Little Girls and Their Ponies

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Little Girls and Their Ponies Page 8

by Meg Collett


  “Mom,” Alice breathed out the word, feeling every bitter thing she’d ever felt toward her mom loosen and disappear in that moment. “Mom, that’s totally fine. I think that’s a great idea.”

  Her mom’s shoulders seemed to drop six inches in relief. She nodded, her head bobbing as her eyes filled with more tears. “Thank you, Alice. Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry for being so terrible,” Alice said quietly, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie, you went through so much. I understood every moment when you were mean or bitter. I got it. I just needed you to feel better, and I think we’re finally to that point.”

  “I think so too,” Alice said quietly.

  Her mom smiled with so much love that it almost overwhelmed Alice. “I see you here, you know. I see your horse sanctuary and all the good it will do. I see the fields full of horses that need to heal. And I see Matthew here with you too. He loves you, sweetie.”

  Alice crumbled as her mom had crumbled, suddenly and with all the emotions she’d felt since the accident. Her shoulders shook and her eyes went blind behind a stream of tears. Her mom came around the table and held her close. Between her sobs, Alice managed to say, “I want that. That’s all I want.”

  Chapter Ten

  In her old jeans and riding boots she’d dug out from the back of her closet weeks ago, Alice went down to the barn. Matthew had beaten her there, turning all the horses out after their morning grain. The only chores left were cleaning the stalls and filling up water buckets for the evening. Putting that off for the moment, Alice turned toward the gate and slipped into the field.

  The palomino mare watched her walk over. From her pocket, Alice pulled out some apple slices and let the horse eat them from her scarred palm. She stroked the mare’s neck, where the hair was starting to shine from the daily grooming.

  She’d been thinking of names. Right then, as the mare nibbled at Alice’s pockets, she added another one to the list: Apple. Alice laughed out loud as she pulled out another slice for the mare. It would suit her fine.

  Without stopping to think about it for long, Alice stepped to the mare’s shoulder and swung herself up, using handfuls of silken mane. She sat up there for a stunned moment and just breathed the cool winter air while the mare went back to grazing. It was the first time she’d been on horse since Rosie.

  She still felt every inch of her broken heart. Every beat was answered by an echoing ache in her chest. If she thought about it too long, she started to feel hollow and swept under by the current of sadness that still resided inside her. But it didn’t feel so all-consuming now. It didn’t dictate every breath she took. The sadness of Rosie’s death and her father’s brain damage were like her scars: she knew they were there, sensed them with every step she took, but she also forgot about them for stretches of time.

  She ran her hand down the mare’s shoulder, feeling the powerful muscles shift as she took a step forward beneath Alice. Though she still cried some mornings, she could think about Rosie and remember the good times, the great times. Sometime during the last few months, she’d forgiven herself for Rosie’s death. Her horse’s screams had faded in her memory to just a black blur. Alice didn’t need to blame herself anymore to cope with the accident. She could acknowledge her father without feeling the overwhelming guild or sadness. She could visit him and consider herself lucky to still have him.

  With a sense of freedom and a satisfied smile on her face, Alice swung her leg back over the mare’s haunches and slid off, giving her a long scratch for being so understanding. Walking back to the gate, Alice pulled out her mom’s car keys and let them jingle in her hand. She had another lesson with Torah and Scratchy today in addition to stopping and visiting with her dad.

  As she walked, she thought about all the things she needed to do. Her mom was packed and ready to go, which meant that Alice would need to get a vehicle of her own soon. It would probably need to be a truck so that she could pull a trailer. In addition, she had a lot of paperwork to fill out to legitimately start Rosie’s Sanctuary, as she’d decided to call it. She would need to talk to a lawyer and make a few phone calls. She also wanted to sign up for a business class at the community college so she could run the sanctuary.

  Smiling, she checked her phone.

  Matthew: Hey, babe. I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight for dinner. Love you.

  Alice: Sounds good. Love you too.

  She whistled for Tucker. A second later, he bounded from the barn and dove into the car. Alice closed the door and walked around the hood, still smiling.

  Her head felt cluttered with purpose and contentment, making her feel alive as she drove toward the Miller’s farm. Tucker hung his head out the window, snapping at the air, and completely beside himself with joy that Alice had let him come. She’d talked to Wendy; the nurse had promised to help Alice sneak the dog into the care facility. They both knew it would make her father happy to see Tucker.

  She flipped on her blinker, and merged onto the highway. The Miller’s farm wasn’t far away, and she let her mind wander to her lesson plan for Torah. The little girl was always so excited and ready to learn every time Alice came over. Scratchy was doing well, getting fatter and fatter.

  Not many cars were on the road since it was the middle of the day. The sky was gray and dotted with heavy clouds full of snow. Up ahead, a white car changed lanes before a bridge.

  Tucker whined. Confused, Alice glanced at him, but he was focused on the car in front of them. Instinctively, Alice slowed. She looked forward just in time to see the car far in front of her swerve, brake lights flashing crazily. The car fishtailed, the driver clearly out of control. With a sickening, numb clarity, Alice watched the car careen into the bridge’s buttress with an eerie, silent collision.

  She had enough time to pull to the side of the road, the loose pavement popping under her tires. She put the car in park and jumped out, Tucker at her heels. Sprinting to the car, her gait was clumsy but strong, even without her cane. Halfway there, she smelled the gasoline spilling onto the road. Like an accordion, the car was crumbled against the bridge’s structure. As she ran, she pulled out her phone and called 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1. What is your emergency?” a dispatcher asked when the call was answered.

  Out of breath from her heart hammering in her chest, Alice managed to say, “A car in front of me wrecked into the Old Johnson Bridge on the highway.”

  “How many cars were involved?”

  “Just one, but it looks pretty bad.”

  “What’s the extent of the car’s damage?”

  The car’s hood was bent up like tissue paper, steel on steel crumpled together. Glass and pieces of plastic littered the road. Alice gulped in a breath as she ran. “Pretty bad.”

  “How many passengers are in the car and are they hurt?”

  Alice wasn’t even to the car yet, but from the damage alone, she knew it wasn’t good. “I just see one, and they have to be hurt.”

  “I’m sending emergency personnel to your location now.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alice tucked her phone in her pocket and ran alongside the crumpled car to the driver’s door, checking the backseat as she went. There was nothing back there but bags and an overturned box. Inside, a woman sat with her shaking hand to her bloodied forehead. She was dazed, but clearly alive.

  “Ma’am?” Alice shouted, tapping on the cracked glass. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

  The woman didn’t respond or even look up. Alice’s stomach twisted painfully, but she ignored it. Her hand trembled as she tried to jerk open the door, causing the cracked glass to break and cascade into the woman’s lap. Alice managed to get it halfway open, just enough for her to squeeze into the gap. The airbag had deployed, and the front of the car was completely mangled. Alice crouched beside the woman.

  “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

  The woman said something, blinking blearily around the car.

  “What was that?” Alice asked.


  “Fire,” the woman mumbled.

  Alice sniffed. Something was burning. She jumped to her feet and looked to the front of the car. From underneath the hood, the flames licked upward. Fear sent goose bumps pricking across her skin. She knew how this worked.

  “Ma’am, can you tell me if your neck hurts? Or maybe your head?”

  The woman shook her head, blood dripping down into her eyes. “My wrist...” She weakly held up her shaking hand for Alice to see. The bone coming down from the woman’s forearm had punctured the skin, sticking straight out, and her hand lolled unnaturally to the side, attached only by tendons and skin. Blood pulsed onto the pavement. Without thinking, Alice took the woman’s hand and cradled it to keep her from doing any more damage.

  “We need to get you out of this car. Can you move?”

  The woman only groaned, nearly unconscious. Alice knew the risks of moving someone after a trauma, but she had to chance it. The car could explode any second. Quickly, Alice unbuckled the woman as precious seconds ticked by. The smell of fire was getting stronger, smoke billowed out from under the hood. Over her shoulder, Tucker barked sharply.

  “Hey! Are you two okay?” someone shouted.

  Alice looked up to see a man running down the road. He’d parked just behind Alice. “I need help getting her out of the car!” she yelled back.

  He came to a stop beside her and looked inside, noticing the woman’s wrist immediately. He stepped back and looked at the bottoms of his shoes, which dripped in gasoline. He crouched to see under the car. “Gas is dripping. The tank must be busted.”

  “There’s a fire in the front,” Alice added.

  The man nodded quickly, his eyes wide with fear. “We need to get her out now.”

  Together, they maneuvered the woman out of the mangled car. Alice kept her wrist steady, while the man shouldered the woman’s weight through the narrow opening in the door. Each with an arm around her, Alice and the man quickly got the woman back to Alice’s car.

  “Did you call 9-1-1?” the guy asked, breathless.

  “Yeah. They’re on their way.” Alice took a deep breath now that they were free of the flames. Only then did she hear the barking.

  Tucker stood at the back door of the car, barking furiously. “Tucker!” Alice shouted. “Come here, Tucker.”

  “Ma’am,” the man asked, waving his hand in front of the woman’s face, “is someone still in your car?”

  She didn’t respond, her eyes going dull. The guy looked up at Alice. “Was anyone else in the car?”

  Alice glanced back at the wrecked car. Tucker stood too close to the growing fire, his barks shrill and full of warning. “I didn’t think so, but I didn’t look that closely. I’ll go check.”

  “No!” the man said sharply. “That fire is going to cause an explosion any second. We can’t go back there.” He looked up at Alice, who had stepped away from her car, her eyes on the burning car in front of them.

  Tucker continued to bark, the sound ringing in her ears.

  The woman started crying, whimpering with pain from her broken wrist. Alice didn’t hear it. Making a decision, knowing what it could mean, she started running toward the car. There was a possibility that she’d missed someone in the backseat, and she had to double-check. If there was, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself, knowing she’d left them, abandoned them when they needed her.

  “Hey!” the man shouted at her. “That’s not safe!”

  She stopped beside the car once again, cupping her hands around the glass and looked inside. Crushed against the back of the passenger seat, was a baby’s car carrier that she previously mistaken for a box. It was knocked slightly onto its side against the opposite door. Chills went down her spine; she heard tiny wails coming from inside.

  “Hey!” she yelled back to the man beside her car. “There’s a baby back here!”

  The man froze then cursed loudly before he ran back to the car. As he ran, Alice jerked and pulled on the back door’s handle, but the bent door wouldn’t open. She took a deep breath to calm down, and realized the door was only locked from the front. She reached up to the front door, which still hung open and hit the electronic locks. The heat from the fire was thick now, the smoke choking in her throat. She grabbed the door handle again and pulled.

  It didn’t open.

  She coughed, covering her mouth. Tucker barked again. The man reached the car, looking in the back window as Alice had. He tried the door.

  “The fire fried the locks. I need to crawl back there.”

  “You’ll never fit!”

  They both looked into the car. It was half the size it once was, folding onto itself. There was barely any room to crawl inside, much less into the backseat.

  “I have to,” Alice said simply. “I’m smaller than you, and I’m not leaving that baby back there.”

  Ignoring her, the man pounded on the back door’s window. It wasn’t even close to breaking. Knowing what she had to do, Alice turned to the front door and crawled inside. The shattered front windshield had scattered beads of glass all over the seat. They dug and cut into her pants, shredding them and tearing into her skin. She gritted her teeth, shoving herself into the narrow space between the steering wheel and seat, pulling her shoulders over the console with a blind single-mindedness.

  “You have to hurry!” the man shouted from outside the car. He could’ve run, but he stayed, anxiously watching Alice through the glass.

  With half her body still in the front seat, she reached into the back and jerked the baby’s seat around. When it righted, she saw the baby’s red face, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. Moving his carrier made him wail even louder. Her fingers slipped as she tried to unhook the buckle strapping him down. The baby cried, jostled around as Alice tried to tug him from the carrier.

  She couldn’t get it loose.

  “Hurry!” the man shouted again.

  Alice gritted her teeth and kicked with her feet. She sprawled into the backseat, sweat dripping into her forehead. Pulling her knees underneath her in narrow, crushing space, she unbuckled the carrier from the seat and lifted the whole thing.

  “Take him!” she screamed to the man as she passed the baby up to the front seat.

  The man took the carrier from her and stepped back, shielding the baby. “Climb out!” he shouted, his voice cracking from the smoke pouring out of the hood.

  “Run back!” Alice screeched. She grabbed the back of the seat and started prying herself back to the front of the car. “I’m right behind you!”

  The fire was hotter now, scorching Alice’s face. She grabbed the steering wheel and heaved herself through the gap and into the front seat. She kicked her legs through and quickly turned herself around. Her knee scraped over a pile of glass, making her winch, but she didn’t slow down.

  Tucker barked from outside the car, smelling the danger.

  Her arm caught on the seat belt just as she tried to pull herself to her feet. It jerked her back into the car, wrenching her shoulder as she crashed back against the console. She flailed at the resistance, panicking in the hot confines of the car.

  Her throat closed and all she saw was smoke. Rosie’s terrified screams echoed fresh in her ear. Her heart galloped painfully with adrenaline and fear that she was going to die trapped in a car for a second time.

  Sensing this, Tucker jumped into her lap, barking into her face. The sound cleared her thoughts, focused her. She wrapped an arm around him and tugged herself free of the seat belt. Sirens blared from somewhere down the road.

  Something popped, like a match striking.

  A white light flared across her field of vision, searing everything else from sight so that Alice didn’t see the explosion or feel any fear. She only felt Tucker’s warm fur against her chest, his heartbeat against her own. She felt peace, solid and resounding.

  Then nothing.

  Epilogue

  A wooden sign for Rosie’s Sanctuary hung over the farm’s gravel drive. Hors
es that needed a home, love, and care filled the fields along the road. An old white truck was parked beside the barn, which was quiet and smelled of hay and shavings. The aisle was swept clean, and the cats were lounging about, full of mice.

  Up a hill in the back field, beneath a willow tree, stood a short palomino mare with a long silken mane the color of milk. The saddle’s cinch had been loosened around her girth, and her reins dropped to the ground. She could’ve walked away easily, but she stayed, her watchful eyes on the man in front of her.

  Matthew knelt, laying a wildflower on each grave. He saved the prettiest one for the middle tombstone, which was etched with Alice’s name. He didn’t cry, but only because enough time had passed that he was thankful.

  Thankful that his girl was home with her beloved horse and bouncy dog. They were all together and at peace.

  He lived with that knowledge, though the sadness was hard sometimes. It hung around in the part of his heart that had and would always belong to Alice. He would always remember how her smile had tugged at her scars and how her lips felt when they kissed. How she’d become the strongest woman he’d ever known.

  Slowly, Matthew rose. It was time to get back to work. The mare sensed this, pricking her ears as he walked over. As if she knew he needed it, she put her head against his chest, nuzzling his hand with her velvet nose. Only then did the tiniest tear escape his eye. It rolled down the scruff along his jaw as he held the mare tight for another stolen moment.

  It was a little moment of sadness purely for himself. It was a tear of healing, of remembrance. He kissed the mare between the ears and tightened her cinch. When he was in the saddle, he turned back to the graves.

  “Love you, Alice,” he murmured into the spring wind.

  Dear Reader

  I hope you enjoyed this novella. I pray that it moved you as it moved me when I wrote it. If you like romance, check out my novel, Fakers. I promise this one has a happily-ever-after!

 

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