Karl
“Like your mother.”
Reginald’s words leave me somewhat taken aback. After all, how can I be like my mother if I’ve never even met her?
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head slightly, “but could you elaborate?”
Reginald chuckles and nods at the same time. “Let’s get Eva back in her stall first, and then we’ll talk,” he says, checking his watch. “I’m craving ice cream. Perhaps we could walk to town and meet Abby and her friend.”
I nod. Together, Reginald and I go through the process: taking the saddle and bridle off of the horse, brushing and cleaning her, giving her fresh water to quench her thirst after such an intense ride.
Neither of us talks as we work, but it’s strangely comforting. The smell of hay and grain fills my senses, coupled with the sounds of the ot
