Now there aren't many wild horses that run through the dry grasses of Texas, but there are a few that people just tossed away. A couple of skinny grades that someone couldn't take care of and just opened their gate, allowing whatever was housed in that pasture to venture off out of sight. A few horses are reported stolen every now and then, and sometimes you may find those horses roaming around stray pastures or in an auction house. I guess that's where this story starts, in an old torn apart auction barn in a small town called Magnolia, in Texas of course.
"Karey... Don't get your hopes up, there is always another time to find the right horse,"
A small girl wearing her favorite pink cowgirl boots kicked dust in the driveway. Her big blue eyes shifted up to the taller man who stared down at her. She had her hands clasped behind her back, a pair of jeans dragging slightly on the ground behind the heel of her boots. Stringy gold curls outlined a smiling pale face, her baby blue t-shirt tucked under her belt as she proudly displayed a belt buckle.
"I won't daddy, I promise," She snickered, waving to her Pa as she bolted towards the pens that housed many horses.
Her father watched her run, his smile slowly fading. His hands intertwined with his wife's, both watching their nine year old daughter running happily towards a small pinto pony.
"You think she remembers?" Her father, Charlie, asked his wife.
A moment of silence followed his question as the proud parents watched their young girl move away from the pony and stare in awe at the gorgeous bay gelding in the next pen over.
"I don't know Charlie. . I don't know. . " Her mother, Angie, sighed.
Karey tilted her head to the left, than to the right as her little mind tried to make sense of a bald faced mare's eyes. Her blue hues stared back at Karey, ears pricked forward. Karey smiled as she saw her own reflection in the balls of water. She reached out slowly and ran her little hand down the mares face, feeling whiskers prick her palm.
"Daddy! Come here!" She called happily, snapping up to stare at her Pa.
Charlie turned his attention toward his daughter, smiling as she stood proudly next to a stout black quarter horse mare. He moved around a group of teenagers, walking to his little girl.
"You like her?" He asked, picking her up onto his hip so she could get a better view of the mares body.
As his daughter excitedly rambled about how much she found the horse attractive and how much she wanted to ride and take her home an elderly man approached them.
"You like that there mare?" He asked, leaning against the pipe rails.
Charlie looked him over. He wore a thin striped button-up shirt, his jeans were stained with mud, torn in the knees and his boots were falling apart. His skin was tan and leathery, his eyes bright and full of interest and knowledge. Grey hairs spouted about his skull, and a prickly chin with thin lips topped his appearance.
"My daughter here is," Charlie answered, setting Karey on the ground "Go find mommy," He said to his little girl.
Karey turned and looked at her Pa, to the mare, to the older man and then smiled brightly, running off toward her mother.
"Now... I need a horse who isn't going to be a problem. . Slow. . Calm. ." Charlie insisted, "What about this mare?"
The older man stared at the thick horse in front of him, "This here mare. ." He started, "She ain't going to give you a problem. The **** thing is crippled, she gotta a limp in her walk, a twitch in her hind leg, and a spot in that here eye," He listed.
"Does she ride?" Charlie asked, growing a little unsure of the mare.
"Of course she rides! I've been riding her for years, she's an seventeen year old mess," The old man spat.
Charlie nodded, "Thank You Sir," He muttered.
"Wait. . Young man," the old man countered, turning to face Charlie, "Why are you scared to let your daughter on a peppy rascal?" He asked.
Charlie looked this old man in the eyes, he saw spirit, interest, but most of all he saw pain. Charlie clenched his jaw, dropping his gaze to the mares lowered face.
"My daughter was in a riding accident when she was seven, a horse she rode threw her off and stepped on her back. The horse broke her back and knocked her pretty hard in the head. . . But she doesn't seem to remember." He muttered.
The older man stared at him, he watched the pain and anger build up behind the mans' flushed cheeks.
I am all out of ideas for now lol. More coming soon?