He grins like he’s just helped invent the wheel. “I’m good at this!”
I reach over and ruffle his hair. “You sure are. You’re a natural artist, kiddo.”
“It would be better to draw a real horse, you know?” he continues with his head cocked to one side. “A picture isn’t good enough. It doesn’t have enough horseness.”
I blink, trying not to laugh. “Horseness?”
“Yeah! Like the horse has to look like it’s running fast! Likewhoosh!” he says, throwing his arms out in an exaggerated running motion. “And you gotta draw the tail flying like this! But you have to see it.”
Charlie’s version of a galloping horse is more “flap” than “gallop,” but I’m still smiling. He’s got heart, I’ll give him that.
“You’re right, Charlie,” I say, putting my pencil down. “It’s not horsey enough. So let’s go find one.”
“We can?”
“Yeah.” I rise to my feet. “We’re not in New York City now, are we? Colter Creek has lots of horses. We just need to find one.”
I can see Charlie’s mind racing, his little wheels turning faster than I ever could have expected.
“We’re gonna see arealhorse?” he asks, like we’re embarking on some grand adventure.
“Yep. We’ll find one. And I’ll draw it from life. You’ll see.”
Charlie immediately begins running in circles. “I’m gonna tell the horse it’s gonna be in your picture! The horse is gonna be famous!”
I grin, heading toward the door, and he follows me, still mumbling about how he’s going to make sure the horse knows it’s a star.
Outside, the fresh air hits me in the face, and I instantly feel better. Charlie grabs my hand, and we walk toward the nearby pasture, where I know a few horses are grazing.
Charlie skips ahead, his energy infecting the whole moment. I can already picture the light catching in his curls, his excitement matching mine. He’s all in.
We approach the fence, where a few horses are lazily munching on grass. The one closest to us is a beautiful chestnut mare, with a glossy coat and a calm but curious expression. She stands tall, her tail flicking lazily at the flies as we approach.
“That’s her,” I say, gesturing toward the horse. “She’s perfect.”
Charlie looks up at me with wide eyes, clearly impressed. “Wow. She’s… huge!”
I laugh. “Yep. Horses are like that. Now, I just need to capture all that horseness.”
I pull out my sketchbook and start drawing, humming as I work. The mare stands so still, so majestic, that I feel like I’m sketching something from a dream.
Charlie watches for a while, his chin resting on the fence as he’s completely absorbed. Then, in his usual way, he speaks up.
“Mama?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“Do you think the horse has a name?”
I glance up, catching a flash of curiosity in his eyes. “I’m sure she does. Horses are very important. They need names like… Windstorm or Thunderhoof or?—”
“Or Mighty Hoof!” Charlie interrupts, grinning widely.
I laugh. “That’s a good one. Mighty Hoof will do. Let’s stick with that.”
Charlie nods as if the horse has just been officially knighted. He looks back at the mare, whose tail swishes lazily, and says seriously, “I think she likes the name. Mighty Hoof is perfect.”
I shake my head, smiling. “You may be right.”
