Will dropped back down on his knees and began rubbing it dry with handfuls of straw. He walked toward them slowly, looked over the stall at the tiny foal who had just rolled over onto its belly. Will slowly rose and stroked her lathered neck. Star soon settled down, standing still but trembling. I’m back here, he called softly, calming the mare with his voice. Will, on his knees beside the mare’s newborn foal, leaned over to protect it from its mother’s startled prancing. A fine-boned chestnut mare whinnied, bolting sideways into the boards of her wooden stall, eyes wide and nostrils flared. Straw dust and hay shreds billowed into the air, creating an instant haze. The heavy oak door banged against its frame and bright sunlight cascaded into the barn’s dim interior.
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