Just when Lochlan lulls me back to the safety of the good memories in my brain, Caleb throws a wrench into the works by appealing to the parts of me Loch can't reach because of the limitations of mere mortals.
He's decided to build a small stable, just behind the garage because the dead orchard is mostly a waste of space and runs from behind the garage and the east side of the boathouse all the way around and up to the main road.
Maybe enough room for two or three horses, he says. I point out that he sold my horses and besides, we really don't have room for them here.
Sure we do, he assures me. He's still smiling.
Did you know horses can't vomit? I ask him and he laughs and looks at his shoes. They're probably made of my old horses.
No, Bridget. I really didn't know that.
Anyone who owns horses should know things like that. It's important. I tell him and go back to watching Lochlan try some new tricks from my vantage point on the porch because the rain is really coming down now but as usual he's still practicing.
