“I like the horses,” Ruby confided, her eyes taking on a distant dreaminess. “They’re strong and free.”
Priscilla, crumbs dotting her chin, chimed in, “I climb trees!”
“Is that so?” Amy laughed, brushing away the stray bits of sandwich from Priscilla’s face. “And what do you both dream of? For when you’re grown?”
Ruby bit her lip, contemplating. “I’d like to be a teacher. To read lots of books and show others how.”
“I want to fly like a bird!” Priscilla declared, spreading her arms wide.
“Those are beautiful dreams,” Amy encouraged, her voice soft with sincerity. “And you can be anything you set your hearts on.” She looked at Priscilla. “Except maybe a bird.”
“Really?” Ruby seemed to search Amy’s face for confirmation.
“Really,” Amy affirmed. “You’re part of a family that will always support you.” Amy looked at the tree above them. “You know, my sister Gail married Mr. Carlson, and she can build anything. I think we should ask her to come visit and build us a treehouse, and we’ll feed her cookies as payment.”
“Could we?” Priscilla asked, looking excited.
“I’ll talk to your papa about it, but I have a feeling he’ll agree.” Amy folded the checkered blanket with a smile, tucking it under her arm. “Let’s head over to the stables now,” she suggested.
Ruby and Priscilla scrambled to their feet, their energy renewed by the prospect of adventure. They trailed behind Amy, their small boots kicking up puffs of dust as they made their way across the ranch.
“Does your papa let you ride them?” Amy asked, her enthusiasm infectious as they approached the large wooden structure that housed the horses.
Ruby shook her head sadly. “He thinks girls are too delicate to ride horses.”
Amy sighed. “A lot of men think that. But you know what?”
“What?” Ruby asked.
“I think the world is changing, and in another fifty years or so, girls are going to ride horses all the time!” At the stable door, she paused. “Horses need lots of care, but if you’re gentle, they’ll be your friends for life.” Her words were like seeds planted in fertile soil, sowing curiosity and eagerness in Ruby and Priscilla’s young minds.
“Can I really touch them?” Ruby’s voice was a whisper of awe mixed with a hint of disbelief.
“Of course, you can.” Amy’s affirmation was warm and reassuring. She led them inside, where the scent of hay and leather mingled in the air.
“Hello, Jasper,” Amy greeted the chestnut gelding nearest them, extending her hand slowly for him to sniff. The horse nuzzled her palm, his dark eyes gentle.
“See? Just like this.” Amy picked up a brush from a nearby shelf and began to run it over Jasper’s coat, her strokes rhythmic and sure. “Always go with the direction of their fur.”
Priscilla watched, wide-eyed, then piped up, “My turn?”
“Here, use this smaller brush.” Amy handed her a suitable tool for her tiny hands, watching as Priscilla mimicked her movements with childlike concentration.
Ruby took a brush too, her fingers gripping the handle as if it were a lifeline to a world she had only dared to dream of. Her strokes were tentative at first, but with each pass over the sleek coat, her confidence grew.
“Good job, Ruby,” Amy encouraged. “You’re a natural.”
“Does he like it?” Ruby asked, her gaze never leaving the horse’s flank.
“Very much,” Amy replied, “Just like we enjoy a nice back rub.”
They moved on to the hooves, and Amy showed the girls how to pick out the dirt and stones, explaining the importance of keeping the horses comfortable and healthy.
“Like checking for rocks in our shoes,” Amy said, making sure the lesson was within their grasp.
“Yuck!” Priscilla exclaimed, giggling as a clump of mud dropped from the hoof. Yet her laughter was not one of disgust, but of discovery and joy in the messiness of life.
“Exactly, Priscilla,” Amy laughed along, her heart swelling with pride at their quick learning. “It’s all part of taking care of those who take care of us.”
