Whispered Prayers of a Girl

“What’ll happen to him if he can’t be trained?”

I walk over to the barrel of grain, then set Daniel on his feet. “All horses can be trained. Some are just more difficult than others and you have to spend extra time with them.” I hand him a small bucket of oats and scoop out another. “Each horse is different, so you have to alter your training routine to fit each one.”

“Oh.” He turns and looks at Bandit, who’s tossing his head and snorting. “He’s pretty.”

“He is.”

Daniel and I walk over to the first stall, and I top off the oats feeder, then check to see if the water needs to be refilled or the hay replenished. We do this to the rest of the stalls. At each one, Daniel reaches out and touches the horses, a look of pure rapture on his face. When we come to Bandit’s, I tell Daniel to stand back. I’m unsure if Bandit will play nice or not, and I’m not willing to take the chance of Daniel getting hurt.

“You ready to head back in?” I ask him once everything is back in its place.

His shoulders droop and his face loses some of its cheerfulness. “I guess.”

The look of disappointment doesn’t settle well with me, so I try to lighten his mood. “You can come with me when I check on them before bed.” At his excited fist pump, I tack on, “As long as your mom says it’s okay.”

“Yes, sir.” He nods and the smile reappears on his face. I check to make sure he’s still bundled up well before we both walk back out into the cold. He once again chooses to walk in the feet-high snow instead of the path I shoveled.

“Maybe Kelsey will come with us next time,” I suggest, and look over at him.

He grabs a handful of snow in his gloves and smashes it into a ball.

“Nah,” he says, tossing the snowball at a tree. “She never does anything anymore.”

The hurt in his tone is easily heard. He misses his big sister. He may act like he’s not affected by the loss of his father, his young age making it easier, but deep down, he is. He not only lost his dad, but with how Kelsey’s detached herself so much, he lost his sister, too. Poor kid.

“Don’t give up on her, okay?” We both stop walking and he looks over at me. “She’s still really hurt from losing your dad. It takes longer for some people to heal.” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes on me. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He looks down for a moment, then brings his eyes back up to me and nods. “Yeah.” He sniffs and runs a snow-covered glove under his nose. “I just wish she would play with me. We used to always play games.”

His tone and the wounded look in his eyes send shards of pain to my chest. I understand the heartache he’s going through. I walk over to him, making my way through the deep snow, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“She’ll come around. She just needs to figure out how to let go of the pain in her heart first.”

We both start walking again. I stay in the deep snow with him. Once we make it to the porch, we stomp our feet, trying to get the clumps of snow off our boots.

“Can I name one of your puppies?” Daniel asks, slapping his gloves together.

“Sure,” I answer. “Got any ideas yet?”

“Uh-huh. I want to name the black one with the white on his face Pepper, because he looks like a Peppermint Pattie and it’s my favorite candy.”

“That’s a good choice.”

Right as I’m reaching for the doorknob, it’s pulled open and Gwen’s standing there. Not expecting her sudden appearance, I take a step back. Her eyes go from Daniel to me then back down to Daniel.

“Did you have fun?” she asks, stepping back and letting us enter.

“Yes!” Daniel says exuberantly. “I got to feed the horses apples and pet them. They were so pretty, Mom!”

She smiles and sets to helping him unbundle. “I’m glad you had a good time. You about ready for some hot chocolate to warm up? Your hands are freezing.”

I take my hat and gloves off and drop them in the small basket by the door, then hang my coat on the hook and start working on my boots.

“Yeah, but can Mr. Alexander make it again?” he asks, unknowingly insulting his mother’s hot-chocolate-making skills.

She winks at me, then feigns shock. This playful side of Gwen is intriguing to watch. I don’t tell jokes, and I don’t laugh at them. My life is very stale, and it’s the way I want it. Laughing and smiling isn’t something I do anymore, as there’s really nothing to laugh and smile about, but since she’s been around, I find myself wanting to. She and her kids have brought a sliver of light back into my life in the short time I’ve known them. I didn’t think it was possible, and I’m not entirely sure I want it to continue, but right now, I’m enjoying it too much to wish it away.

“What’s wrong with my cocoa?” Gwen asks, playfully throwing her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes at her son.