“I’ll stay out of the way.I promise.I’ll go back to brushing Monarch or one of the other horses.Just please don’t make me leave.”
What she seemed to forget was that I was also here, and I had things to do at home.I had a job, chores, and dinner to make.Mind you, I was the bookkeeper for our vineyard and had a vegetarian potato curry soup in the slow cooker ready to go, but that didn’t mean the laundry would fold itself.
Angel remained still enough—sort of— that the men were able to continue checking her out.The farrier—who I think I heard Tom call Angus—had started to work on one of her hooves, while Morty swirled the fetal doppler around Angel’s middle section.Or at least he tried, but as soon as he started to move it, she lost her shit and Angus was knocked into the stall wall as the mare started to thrash.
Sam gripped my arm, her fingernails digging into my skin.
Tom lunged forward and grabbed the reins tight, pulling Angel’s face as close to his as possible until her big, wide eyes were almost level with his.I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but even if I could have, I wouldn’t have understood it since it was in Italian.His voice was soft, almost melodic as he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.
Carefully, Angus and Morty resumed what they were doing.
Angel fussed a bit more, but with Tom right there, holding her tight and reminding her that she was okay, she allowed them to continue.
Angus’ job wasn’t easy, and after a while, my back hurt just watching him hunched over the way he was.And he hadn’t even replaced the shoes yet.He was still working on removing the overgrown hooves.No wonder the poor baby hobbled and wobbled her way to the stall.
I wasn’t expecting Tom to acknowledge us, since this was his life and he was here for the animals, but just like my daughter, I didn’t want to leave.So I quietly ushered Sam away and we went back to brushing the horses.
It wasn’t until my belly rumbled and I checked my phone that I realized that it was after six.The vet, farrier, and Tom were still in the stall with Angel.
“We should get going,” I said to Sam as we stood on opposite sides of Galahad in his stall, brushing him.
“Do we have to?”
“It’s after six,” I said.
Her eyes widened.“Really?”
“Really.I don’t think Tom even knows we’re still here.So we should just head out.They’re busy with Angel and probably will be for a while.”
Her pout tugged hard at my heartstrings, but I couldn’t let her talk me into staying any later.
“Maybe we’ll pop by tomorrow to see how she’s doing.But you have homework, and I have laundry.”
We said our goodbyes to the lovable Galahad as well as the rest of the horses, but Tom, Angus, and Morty were too busy with Angel so we just took our leave.
“Where’s the helicopter?”Sam asked as we headed to the RAV.
“I guess it dropped them off, and they’ll either take the ferry back or it’ll come get them when they’re done?”I mused, marveling at the kind of money Tom must have to have a farrier and vet on standby, not to mention, the ability to fly them over via helicopter with basically zero notice.
He was definitely using his money for good, unlike a lot of people.Mr.Moneybags wasn’t just Mr.Moneybags; he was Mr.Moneybags with a heart of solid gold.
When we drove off his property, a pang of melancholy made my chest tighten in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Was I sad for Angel and how mistreated she’d been?Or was I sad to be leaving such a wonderful place … and wonderful man?I hardly knew him, and he was certainly peculiar, but that only made me want to know more about him.Learn all of his peculiarities, and his story.
By the time we got home, both Sam and my bellies were rumbling like oncoming thunder.Luckily, I had a Crock-Pot of veggie potato soup ready to go.So all I had to do was bring out the crackers and hummus and whip up a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches.
“I smell like horse and hay,” Sam said, grabbing the spoon and smearing more hummus onto her cracker.“Though, I don’t hate the smell.”
“Neither do I.”
“I hope she’s going to be okay,” she added.“And the fact that she’s pregnant.”
I hadn’t had the heart to tell my kid that there was a serious possibility the foal might not make it if Angel was that emaciated.Maybe she wasn’t that far along and they could get her healthy in time for delivery, but even then, who knew what condition the foal would be born in.
We finished dinner, and just as I was putting the dishes away, my phone vibrated on the counter with a message from Naomi to our cousin group chat.
How was horsing around with the mystery millionaire today?
