A successful day, indeed.
I make my way back across the sanctuary grounds, stopping briefly at the donation booth. No one is watching as I drop my check into the bucket, which is exactly how I prefer it.
After that, I head toward the barn.
It’s the only place I haven’t visited yet.
The air changes the moment I step inside. Cooler. Quieter. Thick with the clean, earthy scent of hay, leather, grain, and horses. Outside, the fundraiser still hums with distant voices and the occasional laugh, but in here, everything feels softer.
Sacred, almost.
“Hello, sir,” a man greets from near the first stall. “Would you like to meet the horses?”
“Please,” I say with a smile.
He leads me down the aisle, stopping at each stall. He tells me their names, their stories, the condition they were in when they arrived, and how far they’ve come. Each stall has a picture of the horse when they arrived.
Some were starved.
Some beaten.
Some neglected until their bodies nearly gave out.
I listen to every word.
Not because I need the information, though I always value information, but because the way this man speaks tells me something important about the sanctuary.
There’s love here.
Not pity.
Not performance.
Love.
“Not all the horses are out today,” he says as we stop in front of a smaller mare with a glossy coat and a ridiculous pink braid tied into her mane. “A few are still in rough shape, and being around this many people would be too stressful for them.”
“As it should be,” I say. “Their comfort comes first.”
He nods, looking pleased I understand. “Exactly. But this one here is Princess Pickles.”
I blink.
The little mare blinks back at me.
I’m fairly certain she’s judging my suit.
“She belongs to our tiny owner,” the man adds.
“Amelia’s?” I ask.
“Nah,” he says with a grin. “Not the boss. The warden.”
“Ah,” I say with a chuckle. “Olivia.”
“Yep. That girl runs a tighter ship than most grown folks I know. Princess Pickles here is hers. Or, well, that’s what Livy says. The paperwork says otherwise, but no one’s brave enough to argue with her.”
“I can imagine.”
