Waiting for Morning by Margaret Brownley

Author:Margaret Brownley [Brownley, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: historical, ebook, book
ISBN: 9781595549709
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2012-04-10T00:00:00+00:00

Molly stifled a yawn. She’d spent the last two nights sleeping in Orbit’s stall trying to calm him. The first night away from his mother Orbit paced all night, his loud whinnies keeping the cowhands awake and upsetting the other horses.

She held up her hand. Orbit poked at the hay in her palm. “Come on, you can do it. It’s good. Yum, yum.”

This time, instead of pulling away, Orbit took the hay in his mouth.

Molly grinned. “See? I told you it was good to eat.” While the horse chewed, Molly reached for another handful of hay.

Ruckus ran into the stables, shouting, “Molly, quick, you’re needed at the house.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” she gasped, but Ruckus had vanished as quickly as he’d come. Dropping the hay, she shot out of the stall, slammed the gate shut, and ran. A group of cowboys were gathered in front of the verandah. Alarmed by the overturned wheelchair, a cold knot of fear caught in her throat.

Heart beating madly, she pushed through the circle of cowhands. “What happened, what—”

Donny lay sprawled on the ground. His eyes were open but he looked deathly white. She dropped to her knees by his side. “Donny, speak to me. Oh, God.”

“Looks like he fell down the steps,” Stretch said. “We found him all laid out like Sunday’s going-to-meeting suit.”

She leaned closer. “Tell me where it hurts.”

Donny turned his head toward her. “Molly, I flew. I flew through the air like a bird.”

She checked his head, neck, and back, but he didn’t seem to be injured.

“Would you like us to take him to his room, ma’am?” Stretch asked.

“Yes, please.”

Stretch knuckled Wishbone on the arm. “Give me a hand.”

Stretch lifted Donny under the arms, Wishbone grabbed his feet, and they carried Donny up the steps and into the house.

“I flew like an eagle,” Donny called.

Next to her, Brodie turned the wheelchair upright. “Where do you want me to put it?”

“On the verandah will be fine,” she said.

He stood looking at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck beneath his ponytail. “He’s gonna be all right,” he said, and after a moment’s hesitation added, “He’s tough like his sister.”

It was the first civil word he’d spoken to her since the day she’d frozen in front of the stallion.

“Thank you, Brodie.” She hurried up the steps and into the house.

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