Carefully yet forcefully, he repeated his chore. Dipping the brush into a tall pail of water that had been warmed over the work stove, he brought the steaming liquid to the animal’s back. Over and over he brushed, pulling out loose hair and flecks of dirt embedded from the day’s work. The large brown and white horse occasionally snorted, flicking either her alert ears or wiry tail, but remained contentedly still, enjoying the attention. Outside the open barn doors, the nearly full moon had risen above the eastern horizon in a sky filled with thousands of bright stars. Though the setting of the sun had brought with it a cooling of the day’s heat, whatever breeze that managed to stir the air elsewhere was lost in the close confines of the horse’s stall. Sweat ran in rivers down Owen’s face, and the sleeve of his work shirt was damp from repeatedly wiping his brow. Usually, working his way through the chores of caring for his own two horses calmed Owen’s tumultuous thoughts after a busy day; the procuring of feed, the monotonous brushing, and even the shoveling of manure allowed him to relax, however long it took.
What do You think about Dorothy Garlock - [Tucker Family]?
