Finding Faith (2)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

"Who is it, Breezy, huh?" I ask, and press my forehead against hers. I'm answered by a soft nicker as she shifts in her stall. "Sorry," I squeeze my eyes tightly closed. "I don't understand horse talk."

In a subtle way, I'm excited about the foal. It may not be the dream foal I had planned out, bred to Ryan's prized stallion, and trained to be a top notch cow horse, but at least it'll be my horse. And even if the sire isn't a quarter horse, it could still be a thoroughbred and I can recall many wonderful thoroughbreds that made it as cow horses and western eventers.

It's still early in the day, and for once in a very long time, I find myself with nothing to do. Working on a properly functioning horse and cattle ranch leaves your schedule fuller than a river during flooding season, and finding moments of peaceful quiet are hard to get. But I find myself not enjoying in. I guess that I'm so used to leading a busy life, that when I am handed silence, I don't know what to do with myself.

Sitting on a old hay bale, I try to come up with something to do, but my mind must hate me today, because I am stuck. I wrap a piece of dusty hay around my hand and stare up at the old rafters of the ceiling. Bored.

I pull out my phone and absentmindedly call Alyssa. When I actually do,get bored, it's kind of my go to response thing. "Hi Lyss," I say into the mouth piece when my friend picks up.

"Hi," she says back in a rushed voice.

"What are you doing?" I ask, as I listen to heavy footsteps, a string of curses and some crashes, "finally decided to clean your room?"

"Very funny," she mutters and swears loudly and then, "damn popcorn!"

"Ok...Lyss...what is going on?" I ask more slowly this time.

"I'm making popcorn," she says. There it is! I can hear the loud popping of the kernels in the background, "and Dylan 'accidentally' took the lid off. So...there is now popcorn all over the floor, on drawers, the sink...shoot...in my shirt too."

I giggle at her explanation. "I see then."

"Hold on," she says, then I hear her yell, "Dylan, I'm going to kill you!"

"Now, now Alyssa Lars," I say, "don't be violent."

"Oh, come on...just one little punch?" she pleads.

I roll my eye, and in a stern voice, say "no."

"But he ruined the popcorn," she whimpers, "ah, screw it. He can clean it up. What do you want?"

"Well...I called to say I was bored-" I start, but am cut off.

"Bored? Perfect! Stay there! I'll be there in about an hour, ok? You need to tack up a horse. Now, I'll call Ryan, and tell him to be at your place too."

"Alyssa?" The phones dead. I sigh and stand up, scuffing my boots along the cement floor. I have no clue what Alyssa's up to, but at least my boredom is over! I contemplate on who to ride. Breezy; out of commission, Tricka; she's still fairly green, Rain; I'm not in the mood to ride such a grumpy mare. This leaves me with a choice between Jay, Moon and Jazz, my three geldings. Moon is still recovering slightly from his run in with the steer at the rodeo last summer.

In a cutting competition, it had rammed into his front legs, and the had been badly bruised. Later on, it turned out one of the bones was slightly fractured. He still has a slight limp, and is slightly timid around cows now. It's a shame, because he used to be my most valuable cow horse.

I'll ride Jay. Finalizing on my decision, I groom Jay in slight haste. Alyssa says she'll be here in a hour. But this is Alyssa. To her, an hour could mean as much as fifteen short minutes.