“Not much,” I admit.
She makes a thoughtful sound, like this is disappointing but not impossible to overcome.
“That’s okay. Rory can teach you. Mama says everybody has to start somewhere.”
“A wise woman, your mother.”
“She is,” Olivia says, then glances toward Rory. “But don’t let him do it wrong. Horses need their feet taken care of carefully.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promise.
Her eyes narrow slightly.
I get the sense Olivia Moore takes promises very seriously.
“Good,” she says. “Thor is mean if he needs to be, but he’s been in a good mood all day, so he probably won’t fight you.”
“Thor?” I ask.
“The horse you’re helping with,” Rory explains, a little too amused.
I glance toward the stall he gestures to and find a massive black horse watching us with one ear tipped forward and the other angled back.
Of course his name is Thor.
Olivia nods. “I’m gonna go tell Mama, and then we’re gonna come watch. I’ll give you a grade at the end.”
“A grade?”
“Yes.” She taps her pen against her clipboard. “Based on listening, effort, and whether or not Thor likes you after.”
“That seems fair.”
“It is. I made the scale myself.”
“I look forward to earning your approval.”
She studies me for a moment, then nods.
“You should,” she says seriously. “I’m very hard to impress.”
Then she turns and marches out of the barn, already calling for her mother.
Rory chuckles beside me.
“She really is the warden,” I say.
“The strictest one we’ve got,” he agrees. “Come on, Mr. Moretti. Let’s see if Thor approves of you.”
Thor huffs from his stall.
I adjust the cuffs of my shirt and meet the horse’s stare.
“Apparently,” I murmur, “I’m being tested by everyone today.”
“Thor’s a Clydesdale,” Rory explains as we make our way to his stall. “His last owners bought him without realizing how much work a horse like him takes.”
He gestures to the photo attached to Thor’s stall door.
