“Head down.” She commanded. It didn’t always work, but this time it did. She took off her rain jacket, and gently tied the arms under his chin. Blindfolded now, he followed a little more easily.
Valerie now faced the wind and rain in little more than her soaked t-shirt. But if the horse was following, it would be worth it. The wind kept changing direction, but each step brought them closer to home.
They reached the drive, and the wind flung the gate open Valerie flinched at the squeal as it gave. She looked up. Her horse was oddly stoic. He followed her into the barn. She flicked on the light, and murmured to him as she gently undid his blindfold. He looked tired.
She wasn’t doing so well herself. Soaked through and shivering, she wouldn’t be any use to him like this. She led him into a stall.
With a promise to be right back, she hurried up the stairs to her apartment. She hurried to her room, not even acknowledging her friend on the couch.
“I meant to say, thanks for letting me stay last night.” Moira turned to look at her. “What happened to you?”
“Accident!” Valerie called out from her room. “He’s got a gash on his chest, would you mind having a look?” The front door closed with a shudder that echoed through the apartment. She rushed through toweling off and wringing out her hair.
She swayed as her boots thudded down the stairs. She fought the chill that had settled into her bones. Moira had the horse in the cross ties already.
“I thought you were going to buy a horse, maybe a mare or a gelding. But you bring home this mammoth stud!”
“What, seriously?” Valerie bent down to check. “I bought a stallion?”
“Val!” Moira groaned. “You didn’t check?”
“It’s all a bit of a blur. I just saw him, and… well…” Valerie ran her fingers along his cut, taking a proper measure of the injury, out from the storm. It didn’t seem as serious as she had thought. “I just had a feeling we would get along famously.”
“You can’t just go having feelings…” Moira picked up a hind foot.
“He was very well-behaved in the ring!” She started scraping the water off his coat. “The other horses were all so jumpy. And young.”
“And half the size of this one?” Moira patted his neck. “You called it a gash, but I’m not sure he even needs stitches.”
“I know. I thought it was worse when I first saw it.” She caught her friend flinching. “You all right?”
“Sore back.” Moira leaned against a wall.
“Since when?” Valerie had never known her friend to have back problems.
“Fell on it. No big deal.”
Without really knowing why, Valerie strode purposefully up to her, turned her around, and lifted up the back of her shirt. There was an assortment of bruises. The purple one was toward the bottom. Moira jerked away and gave Valerie’s shoulder a shove.
“Do you mind?” She fussed with her clothes, setting them straight as soon as possible. Valerie tried not to wither under the glare Moira gave her. But she couldn’t.
“You could have told me!” Valerie turned and took her new horse out of the cross ties. “Don’t you want ice… or something?”
She looked at him, hoping that somehow, the unease of this moment would be erased if she could just stare at her horse long enough. She couldn’t cry. She didn’t dare cry. Not after all that had happened. If she thought Valerie was losing it again, Moira would shut down and try to take care of her, and say nothing else. Valerie bit her lip, hoping she had the courage to stay in the conversation. The horse turned to stare back at her. She could have sworn there was understanding in those eyes.
He lifted his chin, and took a deep breath. He started to wiggle his lips over the top of her head. Then he gave a truly mighty fart.
And the tension was broken. Neither could stop themselves from laughing louder than the wind outside the barn. Or inside the barn.
Moira came over and patted his shoulder.
“Cutting him at this point wouldn’t change much. He’s in his teens. Unless you’re worried about your mares?”
He lifted a hind leg and stomped the ground. Almost as if he’d known they were talking about his castration.
Valerie tugged on his halter, and he obeyed, lowering his head. She gave him a scratch just under his forelock. “How’s Glenn?” She watched Moira’s reaction out of the corner of her eye. Her friend’s lip twitched before she sniffed and regained her composure.
“Healthy enough.”
Valerie didn’t know what to ask next. But the wind outside the barn started to rattle the doors. On either side of the barn, the doors started to slide open. They leapt into action, ran over and tried to hold the doors in place.
The doors had opened about an arm’s length apart. The wind kept pushing the doors into their pockets at a glacial pace. Moira met her eyes as she gripped the opposite door. They both realized it.
The wind was stronger than they had thought.
Valerie shifted her feet, and tried to push her weight against the door.
It stopped rolling back.
Moira nodded and did the same. That was the last they saw of each other before the rain started to drive its way into their faces. Valerie shut her eyes and shouted.
“PUSH!”
She didn’t know if Moira heard her. She pushed forward, hoping her friend could do the same. With her eyes closed and her leg muscles straining, she couldn’t tell if she was succeeding or not. She just kept pushing. She hoped.
The rain hit harder, and felt sharper. She heard the shudder of the door, close to being rocked off its track. She ducked her eyes under her arm and tried to see Moira. She had stumbled to her knees, but still tried to keep the door in place. The vibration of the ground felt different. Like hoof beats.
As she turned to check the other end of the aisle, tiny pieces of hail started to dig their way out of the dirt and hit her face on the way up. The other door was completely open. It was hopeless.
Valerie dropped her hands and charged through the wall of hail. She hooked her arms under Moira’s and jerked her back to the wall of hay bales. Four bales high, she tucked the both of them behind, and covered them with a tarp. She hoped that, if the wind ripped the barn apart, if it sent the apartment crashing down on top of them, that she had done enough.
