“He’s the horse whisperer.”
Erin turned when Joey came up beside her. It was three o’clock before she’d finally driven across the river and up the valley several miles. That was where she found a small, country store and spent fifty bucks on some boxed food and milk. She’d also eaten some mac’n’cheese and felt like a new person. Happily fed, and finally not so bone-numbingly cold, she stepped out of the trailer. She was leaning on a wood fence that separated her from the round pen where Jack was working with a small, white-speckled horse. She had no idea what Jack was doing, but observed that he’d been patiently at it for some time.
“What?”
“Jack. He’s like that movie Robert Redford made years back. It’s like he talks to them. I can train the horses, but not like him. He’s the best I’ve
