Besuch aus Wildwoods

I was out riding with Field when I suddenly saw a horse lying in the snow. It was completely still, just watching us. I immediately called Josh.

Gillian: “Josh, there’s a horse lying in the little grove behind the campfire… no, it’s not one of ours. I don’t even know what breed it is. I think something’s wrong. Please come.”

Josh arrived and together we brought the horse back with us.

Josh: “That’s a Jorvik Wild Horse. They usually live in Wildwoods. She must have wandered too far. And you were right — something is going on… she’s pregnant. Probably about to foal.”

A foal! That was wonderful. We put the mare into one of the stalls. Josh said we should leave her alone so she could calm down. Nature would take care of the rest — and if something went wrong, we were right next door. We went into the lounge, had a small meal, and talked. I was glad Josh was there. He radiated calm and safety. And truthfully… I liked him. A lot.

Josh: “You do realize this is a date, right? You called me to come over. Then you lured me into the stable, and now we’re sitting here at a candlelight dinner.”

Gillian: “You know, I always get into a romantic mood when there’s a foaling mare next door. I regularly invite cowboys over for rice pudding with cinnamon.”

A few hours later, the foal was born. Everything had gone well. Mother and baby lay close together in the stall. Tears filled my eyes.

Josh: “Hey Missy, what’s wrong? You’re not crying, are you…”

Gillian: “No… I was cutting onions. I’ve never experienced something so beautiful. Josh… I could really use a hug right now.”

He wrapped his arms around me. It felt good.

Josh: “I wouldn’t have dreamed of this this morning… I really like it when you get emotional. Maybe I should organize more pregnant mares.”

Gillian: “Alright, that’s enough. I almost said something I might’ve regretted later. Good thing you interrupted me, you clown.”

A few days later, we stood by their stall. The mare and her foal were doing well.

Josh: “We should put them out in the pasture. She’s not used to a stable. She’s restless. We don’t want anything happening to the foal.”

Gillian: “It’s far too cold. The foal is only a few days old. It’ll catch a cold — probably get a fever… maybe even a cough.”

But the pasture clearly did them good. The foal jumped around and playfully competed with its mother at the trot. They were constantly moving. As Josh had said, the mare wasn’t used to stalls or boxes — she was used to the wide lands of Wildwoods. One day, I would have to see it for myself. A week later, I found Josh standing on the pasture with a man.

Josh: “Gillian, this is Gary. He lives in Wildwoods and looks after the Wild Horses. He’s taking the two of them back to their herd.”

Gillian: “What?! Back… now? But… stay… sweet foal… take care of…”

Gary led the mare and her foal back to Wildwoods. It was probably the best thing for them. Still… a foal on the ranch… I would never forget the evening of that birth — and what that night awakened inside me.