Page 74 of All We Thought We Knew
“That’s a good idea,” I said, impressed at his insight.
After lunch, we attached the ramp to the platform.
“We still need to add rails,” Nash reminded as I walked up the incline to test its sturdiness, with Jake following behind. The dog had dozed in the corner of the barn the entire time we’d been working but now came to investigate the contraption.
A sense of accomplishment washed over me. “I think this is going to work.” I glanced back to Nash where he stood watching me. “You’re a pretty good craftsman, Mr. McCallum.”
His mouth quirked. “And you’re a fine apprentice, Miss Taylor.”
“I’m anxious to see what Dawn’s Rose will think about it.”
“I’ll get her saddled and bring her over.”
While I waited for Nash, I swept up as much of the construction mess as I could. I’d just put the broom and dustpan away when he returned, leading not just a fully saddled Dawn’s Rose but Moonlight as well. She knickered when she saw me.
“Why did you bring her?” I asked, coming forward to pet her.
“I thought Dawn might like a friend nearby when we introduce her to the platform.” He paused. “I also thought you and I could go for a ride after we’re done, since we’ve been working so hard.”
A warm tingle ran through me. “You are full of surprises today.”
“How about I lead Dawn to the platform and you mount her from it. After she gets used to it, then we can take your dad’s advice and roll the wheelbarrow up and down the ramp while she waits.”
The plan sounded good.
Dawn’s Rose seemed unbothered by the new way to mount her. She stood patiently while I walked up the ramp to the platform and climbed aboard.
“Maybe you should lead her, like we’ll do when Fred is here Saturday. That way she’ll associate the platform mount with being led around the corral instead of riding freely. At least until Fred gets confident enough to take her out on his own.”
Nash glanced at me. “I hope this works.”
I heard the doubt in his words. “It will.” I told him about the article Nurse Bradford read about using horses for centuries to assist people with disabilities. “We may not know what we’re doing, but Dawn’s Rose does. She’ll do what she was born to do.”
Nash led us around the barn while Moonlight stood watching.I dismounted when we reached the platform again, walked down the ramp, then came back and did it all over again.
By the fourth time around the barn, I said, “I think she’s going to be fine with Fred mounting her from the platform. Let’s see what she thinks about the wheelbarrow.”
As I suspected, Dawn’s Rose wasn’t concerned with the wheeled cart in the least. I even sat in it to mimic what it might look like when Fred was in his chair, but she simply stood and waited patiently, no doubt wondering what our strange behavior was all about.
“I’m satisfied she’ll do great on Saturday.” I climbed from the saddle for the last time.
“I am too.” Nash rubbed Dawn’s neck, then turned to me. “Do you feel like riding?”
My smile was my answer.
Nash used the platform to mount Dawn’s Rose while I climbed up on Moonlight. He told Jake to stay, and we headed out of the barn into waning afternoon light.
“Where to?” Nash asked.
“Let’s go to the creek,” I said, a sense of inner peace I hadn’t felt in ages settling over me. I wondered if Fred would feel the same way when he sat in the saddle again.
We didn’t speak as we walked the horses to the far end of the farm, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. The beauty of this land never disappointed, even as nature prepared to usher in winter. Trees with almost bare branches served as reminders that new beginnings would come again someday. Rest and restoration must take place during the cold, hard months before fresh life could appear. Mark loved the lessons nature taught. I could almost hear what he’d say about my deep reflections today.
New beginnings, Sis. Be brave and reach for ’em.
When we came to the creek, we stopped, listening to the sound of water rushing over rocks. I couldn’t count the number of timesMark and I had come down here, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback. In the summertime, he would fish while I read a book. When it was cold, we’d build a campfire. It was our private sanctuary, and although I couldn’t recall Nash ever accompanying us, being here with him today felt right.
“Do you believe in heaven?” I asked, my voice quiet so as not to disturb the peacefulness of the place.
