I needed to refocus my nervous energy and groom down some of the horses before I went inside for the evening. As soon as Oakley was brushed down and tucked away in her stall with treats, I made my way over to Elle’s stall. I wondered what her story was like I did with most of the horses here. The majority were Quarter Horses, which was common in a western riding barn, but then you had a Morgan, an Andalusian, and a Fresian. It made me wonder if Elle had once been a rescue too. Seemed like most of the horses had been.
Apache had his own story too. One of pain and mistreatment, but look how far he’d come since then. He was in a good place. I could tell by how calm and willing he was for Beau.
As I tried to halter Elle, she nuzzled my pockets looking for the skittles I always had stashed for her. Out of every treat I gave her, skittles were her favorite. “Alright sweet girl. Gimme a sec. I’ll get you one.”
I swear she knew what I said because she instantly calmed, allowing me to slip the top part of the halter over her ears. “That’s my girl,” I said as I rubbed the white fur of the star on her forehead. I brought her out of her stall and tied her in cross ties to brush her down.
Something about the silence while I brushed her stilled me. It calmed my soul in a way nothing else could manage. It was cathartic. Listening to her steady horse breathing.
I could stand here all day long and brush horses. Elle stood quietly, cocking her hind leg like she was relaxed. When I reached up to the spot between her shoulders her head shifted to the side and her lips started wiggling.
“Oh, is that a good spot, girl?” I laughed at the faces of enjoyment she was making as I scratched her favorite itchy spot, the one I’d found the first day I’d groomed her. Horses seemed like such simple creatures. A scratch to make them happy. A carrot to munch on. Some sugar cubes just because, and they were your best friend. I wish life was that easy. Maybe for Elle, her life hadn’t always been this carefree and easy. Maybe Elle’s life had been hard before she’d come here, like me she was running from abuse or running from a past of unkind hands and people. I understood that fully.
This place felt safe to me. If I was honest with myself, it felt like home. For the first time in years, I was smiling. I was legitimately happy. I had people I could count on that truly cared about me. I was learning to accept it. Accept help. It was hard for me at first wanting to do everything on my own. I’d been tied to this image of a perfect housewife who never does anything wrong for so many years that I’d forgotten what it was like to just be me. That carefree barn bum that spent hours hanging out on the farm with Reagan. Riding bareback through the fields and running barrels at the county fair. Little things that made me wonder why I ever left in the first place.
Looking back, I thought I needed to get out of this Podunk town. Cities are where your life is supposed to happen. With populations in the millions your happily ever after was almost a guarantee. Before I left I’d never experienced anything more than seeing women settling down and raising a family on a farm. At the time, I’d laughed at the idea. I thought I was better than these people. I would become better by moving forward and away. I wanted a fancy college degree, not because I had a dream career, but because it sounded good, and the rich husband who showered me with love and gifts. To feel special. To get everything I always wanted, not just what I needed. I wanted the white picket fence with two point five kids. I thought Andrew would give me all of it. Look where that silly dream got me? An abusive husband, a loveless marriage, and no children.
I’d learned I was wrong.
So wrong.
What I wouldn’t give to be settled down on a farm much like this one with Beau. How different would my life be now? I doubt I’d be hiding out in this town running from something that I was sure would catch up with me.
Little by little Beau Montgomery was making me believe that I deserved to be here. I deserved to feel loved and wanted. He made me feel a hell of a lot more than my husband had in the last year, that’s for sure.
I finished up with Elle and grabbed Jet from the next stall over. Where Elle was a short 14.5 hands high, Jet was a monster at almost 16 hands tall. I had to grab a step ladder to reach the middle of his back. Though he was tall, he was sweeter than pie. His muzzle hair whispered against the back of my neck as I reached down to brush the front of his chest. I could feel his warm breath on my skin and I relished it. Being this close to a horse was something akin to being close enough to heaven to touch it. Messengers sent to earth for the mere purpose of soothing our souls and the good Lord himself letting us know we aren’t alone in the world. I’d always been drawn to them for that reason.
I provided the appropriate amount of scratches and cooing for Jet to feel like he’d gotten enough of my love for the day before returning
