
She watches the drive as she works. Nothing new, she's been like this a long time. From the
day Jim left she's watched. No matter what she was about, she kept one eye out for him. She
got trail rides together, and made a little money boarding horses, too. She worked hard but
horses ain't easy money. It's hard work, cleaning stalls and feet, and loading and unloading
feed and hay. It's true, sure nuff, that she earned every cent she got.
Then it came foal time. It was a rough job, and she held out til the vet came to help. Of
course spring came and the river rose and horses had to be moved to higher ground. That was
a job. Thank God for neighbors.
Fields to fence and fences to check, always one needing attention. Now with spring it's
time to plow a few pastures so there will be something to eat for the horses.
Too good to be true, she thought, as she finished today's work at dark. On her way
to the house, she saw a mare down in the lower pasture. Funny how she knew something was
wrong from so far away.
She got on the old golf cart and rode to the lower pasture, with most of the horses keeping
an eye on her because the cart usually carried hay.
The mare was down and she didn't know why, or did she? That mare was more trouble. Sue
got the horse by the lead and coaxed her up to her feet. Walk the mare, walk until Sue
decides whether she needs to call the vet. Vet made a good living off these horses, seemed
to her.
She kinda laughs to herself the whole time she is thinking and walking the mare, Maude.
Maude was the first horse Sue ever bought. Maude was getting old, but she was always good on
a trail ride. She was good with the kids, too.
All night Sue walked Maude until finally, when dawn came, Maude got rid of her gas.
Sue took her in the stall and let her have water, but no food for a while yet. Even though
it was a long night, Sue was thankful she didn't have to call the vet, not this time.
Sue fed the horses and gave them fresh water and went to the house to shower, but gave a
long look to the driveway, as always.

By Brier (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)

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