*Hattie*
After lunch the next day, I do my best to keep up with Charlie as she does chores around the property. I’m trying to help, but right now, all I can do is watch in awe as she shoes one of the horses. With each meticulous step of the process, her expression remains calm and thoughtful.
“You do that well,” I tell her.
She looks up briefly before turning her gaze back to her work. “I’ve been doing it for many years, since I was eight or so, with help, of course.”
“Eight?” I don’t remember what I was doing at that age, but I know it wasn’t handling a thousand pound animal.
“With some assistance, yes,” she replies.
She continues hammering the shoe on as I watch. It’s no wonder these people crave their independence. That fighting spirit is built into their DNA. It makes me reconsi
