“Poor little thing,” Faith whispered.
She reached a trembling hand over the stall door toward the foal. But it was too upset to let her comfort it and continued to pace anxiously around the stall, calling out in distressed bleats for the dam from which it was being weaned.
Tears welled in her eyes and turned the foal into a black blur. She feared for a moment that she might start crying again.
Again? She nearly laughed. When had she stopped?
She pulled her wrap tighter around her shoulders against the dreary day and the drip of drizzling rain across the roof. Soon, she would have to return to the house and dress for dinner, plaster a smile on her face for her family, and somehow pretend that her heart wasn’t breaking. Her family had all been very kind to her; even her sisters had been
