Part 6
At High Basin, the path beside Rook’s pasture was packed gravel. Sam tested it with his wheels before his mother unloaded the folding chair she had brought for herself. It held firm enough for him to go ahead, though the gentle rise made him work.
Rook had been there for a month. The woman caring for him said he ate well, tolerated the other horses across the fence, and still preferred people to approach from where he could see them. She had read the notes from Sam and Mae. Then she left Sam and his mother on the visitor side of the pasture gate and went to bring Rook in from the far end.
Sam had missed the daily work more than he expected. At Lou’s barn he had begun to recognize the sound of Mae’s boots on the path and the hour Rook would be given hay. High Basin was farther away. A visit had to be arranged in advance, and on some days, Rook might have no interest in coming to the fence.
His mother settled into her chair. “Lou called yesterday,” she said. “He has a Saturday lesson with a pony who knows every excuse for standing still. He wondered if you’d watch.”
“I told him I would.”
“You did?”
Sam smiled at her surprise. “I called him back.”
Across the pasture, Rook followed the caretaker along an inner fence. He looked well. His coat was dusty, and he kept stopping to inspect things in the grass. When the woman turned toward the visitor gate, he chose to walk with her for a while, then paused again.
Sam moved closer to the rail. The gravel shifted beneath one wheel, and he set the brake before taking his hand off the rim. Rook raised his head at the sound.
For a moment, Sam waited for him to come nearer. Then he saw that the gelding was looking past him toward the open stretch of pasture. Sam released his brake and moved a little way back, leaving the path by the gate clear. Rook walked on with the caretaker.
His mother came to stand beside him. “Do you want me to get your chair out of that patch?”
“I’ve got it.” Sam adjusted the wheel, found firmer ground, and looked up. “Thanks.”
Rook reached the fence. The caretaker stayed with him, leaving the lead rope loose. Sam rested his hand on the rail as Mae had once shown him. Rook sniffed it, then lowered his head toward the grass on his side. Sam scratched the bridge of his nose when he lifted it again.
The contact lasted only a few seconds. Rook turned away first, and the caretaker walked with him toward the shade. Sam stayed at the fence until they were halfway across the pasture.
On the way back to the van, his mother carried her folded chair. Sam took the gradual slope at his own pace. Beyond the fence, Rook’s hooves sounded over the dry ground, sometimes near the path and sometimes too far away to hear.