. whack, whack, whack. Any harder and he was going to be bruised. The eagle feather was long gone.Ahead, the sky darkened over the mountains. The first towering cumulus, silhouetted by the declining sun, peeped in a valley gap, easily two hundred miles away. A gust reaching 40 blew the scent of rain ... and something else ... horses.There ... out on the plain ... two ... six ... eight, a dozen ... two... 48 mares ... THREE running stallions, 'something evil this way comes, ' he thought. Stallions weren't known for sharing. Maybe five or six two year olds, a smattering of foals ... fillies and colts ... a few yearlings. The rest ... big strong survivors.There ... behind the herd ... a golden shadow ... two more long slinky low fast movers bounding along behind the first ... herding? They still had eight miles to go before the first horse reached him ... not long, but too long.The whole herd shied to the left ... an explosion in the grass and a yearling was down kicking out it's life,. I knew exactly what she meant but my nervous excitement made me act all innocent and confused. “Put – your – hand – on – his – knee!” she’d hissed at me all staccato , leaning close so nobody would hear, fun sparkling in her eyes. I put up a pretty transparent show of reluctance before placing my trembling little hand on his leg. He’d been talking to his pals the whole time but at this he turned and glanced down at my hand. I’d blushed feeling I’d over-stepped a line. Being a naive eighteen year old I’d not realised how wide of the mark that assumption was! My thoughts returning to the present I muttered, plaintively, “I know”, and again, “I knoooow!” Katherine leaned in to me, reassuringly squeezing my shoulder. “Come on!”, she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The dam broke and tears welled up in my eyes. A torrent of words and pent up feeling burst from me and, despite my sobs, I was relieved to be telling her and to be free of the emotion I’d choked back over the weekend..
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