Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Let’s get started, Ainsley,” Dr. Barnes said, patting Piper’s flank, then Mercy’s in turn. But now I was the one who stood frozen, unsure what to do.
Ainsley picked up a flat, rubber brush. “First you should use this one.”
“The curry comb,” Dr. Barnes said, and pointed toward a bench where another one sat. When I picked it up, she turned away from me as if to give me a moment to collect myself, while Ainsley demonstrated how to massage in a circular motion. I noticed that she instantly relaxed as soon as she began tending to her horse, and fuck if I didn’t want to experience the same thing because my insides were feeling like Jell-O.
“Work your way from the neck to the rump, then repeat the same on the other side,” Dr. Barnes instructed, still looking away from me and focusing instead on Ainsley. “It’ll help remove any dirt from his morning exercise in the pasture.”
It was my moment of truth. I could feel my hands shaking as I stepped forward, making sure to stand to the side of Mercy and not anywhere near his back legs. His ears twitched, and his eyes focused on me with an attentiveness that made me feel seen.
Okay, I was losing it. But, maybe not.
Only one way to find out. So I swallowed my fear, lifted my hand, and began tentatively brushing him, glancing in Ainsley’s direction to be sure I was doing it right. And lo and behold, Mercy became still even though my pulse was jackhammering in my ears. I totally understood why it felt good to have steady pressure against your frame—it was something I seemed to need too. In fact, the social worker from the VA recommended one of those weighted blankets that I had yet to look into.
When Mercy snuffled and his nose twitched, I stilled. “What was that face he made? Did I hurt him?”
“You might’ve found an itchy spot,” Dr. Barnes replied, stepping closer to inspect Mercy. “Run the comb over that area again.”
I watched him closely as I repeated the action near his flank, afraid to alarm him. But he blinked repeatedly, seemingly soothed by my handiwork, if my instincts were guiding me in the right direction. That was all I had, which made this tricky.
As Ainsley and Dr. Barnes talked in soft voices near Piper, I made my way to the other side of Mercy, entranced by the motion of the comb and his calm reaction to me.
We switched to something called a dandy brush, which was hard-bristled, and Ainsley specifically told me to avoid Mercy’s legs because they could be sensitive. I froze momentarily, the fear of being kicked bubbling up in my throat. But Mercy nudged my elbow with his nose, like he was urging me to keep going. I couldn’t help the satisfied smile that broke out on my face as I continued on, and the longer I went, the slower my heart rate became.
And there the two of us stood, in the middle of a raging storm, grooming the horses. Ainsley no longer seemed anxious, which made me feel like I’d helped in some way. But she’d helped me too. I felt connected, I guessed was the right word. To what exactly? Nature? Myself? I’d admit it was sort of trippy.
Next was a softer brush, and while I still avoided Mercy’s legs, I followed Ainsley’s lead as she stood in front of Piper and began grooming her horse’s face. Would Mercy even allow me to do that? I shifted to the front of my horse—well, not my horse—and there was this intense moment when our eyes locked, and I didn’t even know how to explain it. It was like he had calmed the storm brewing inside me, one that probably matched the one pelting the stable roof. And when I carefully brushed his nose, he remained perfectly still.
“What do you use to groom their tails and manes?” I asked, glancing at how shiny Mercy’s hair looked cascading down his neck. So regal.
“There’s a special brush for that because their hair can get tangled,” Dr. Barnes replied with a smile. “And the hoofs are a whole other demonstration.”
“Sheesh, how high-maintenance are you, Mercy?” I cooed, feeling sort of silly but also really surprised at myself that I had resorted to that tone of voice with a horse.
But when I heard Ainsley begin humming and then softly singing to her horse, my inhibitions fell away, and I became as hypnotized by the sweet melody as Piper was.
When I felt the stinging of tears behind my eyes, I blinked them away, wondering why in the hell I felt like I was having a come-to-Jesus moment with a horse.
Christ, life was strange, and sometimes things didn’t make much sense…until they did. Though it was sometimes difficult to put into words.