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Authors: Chris Platt

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“I don’t need it, and I’m not going to wear it!” Danny hollered. “And for the hundredth time, I’m not going to the VA. I don’t need any help! Why can’t you guys just leave me alone?”

Ali ducked back into the kitchen. If they spotted her, she’d be sent to her room, and she wanted to hear this conversation.

“Danny, honey …” Their mom stepped into the fray. “You need to get out and start doing things again. When you first got home, you went out for a drive with your friends a couple of times. You seemed to enjoy it. What changed?” She sounded exasperated. “And why don’t you want to wear your prosthetic?”

“I just don’t want to, okay?” Danny snapped. “Let’s just let it drop.” He turned on his crutches and started toward the staircase.

“Just a minute, son,” his dad said. “There’s one other thing I’d like to ask of you.”

Ali moved closer to the doorway to hear better.

“Would you take your sister to the feed store? She needs to buy supplies for the horses. I’m sure you saw them delivered this morning. And your sister would enjoy spending more time with you.”

Ali gulped. Now she was getting dragged into this. But if it would get him out of the house, she’d ride to town with her grouchy brother.

“It’s only a few miles away,” their mother coaxed. “I know you can do this, Danny. Please take your sister to the feed store. It’ll be good for both of you.”

Danny frowned but he stuck out his hand for the keys.

Their mom deposited the keys into his palm. “It’s time to get back into a normal routine around here.” She kissed her son on the cheek. “It’s a nice day out. It’ll be good for you to get out in the fresh air.”

Ali’s dad placed the prosthetic on the couch. “I appreciate it, Danny. I know dealing with this injury is hard on you.”

Danny grunted and made his way to the couch. He snatched the prosthetic leg off the cushion, then maneuvered to put it on.

Ali leaned against the wall, waiting for her brother to put on his fake leg. The part of the prosthetic that attached to his knee was flesh-colored, but the piece leading down to the foot was shiny metal. For some odd reason, she was fascinated by the foot portion, which was encased in one of Danny’s sneakers. She guessed it was to make the unit look as normal as possible. But what if he wanted to wear another pair of shoes and he forgot to change the shoe on the prosthetic? He’d have two mismatched shoes.

“Quit staring at me, Ali.” Danny didn’t even bother to look at her.

She’d thought she was out of his line of vision. And now her parents would know that she’d been eavesdropping.

Ali headed toward the stairs, wanting to get out of there before her parents lectured her on listening to other people’s
private conversations. “I’ll go change my clothes and be down in a minute,” she said.

She took the stairs two at a time. She was actually surprised that Danny had agreed to take her. She’d have Danny all to herself for at least thirty minutes. Maybe they’d have a good time and he’d remember that she wasn’t so bad after all.

Ten

The screen door banged shut and Ali watched from the truck’s passenger seat as Danny cautiously made his way down the steps, wearing his new prosthetic and using a cane to help him balance. His gait was awkward and unsure. Ali wanted to get out of the truck and help him, but she knew he wouldn’t want her to.

He folded his long body behind the steering wheel and sat there for several moments. He turned on the radio and fussed with it for a bit, then adjusted all the mirrors and his seat.

Danny tapped his fingers and whistled along with the tune on the radio. She hadn’t heard her brother whistle in many years. Was he stalling, hoping their father would volunteer to drive them?

Ali picked at her nails while she waited, feeling awkward. Finally Danny handed her a list and some cash.

“Mom says this is what the vet suggested you get at the feed store.” He fidgeted with the rearview mirror again. “She said you’d know what to pick out for brushes and such.” He cracked his knuckles and put the truck in drive, slowly pulling to the end of the driveway. “Make sure your seat belt is on,” he ordered, then softened his voice. “You can never be too careful.”

“Especially when we’re in our own driveway.” There was a long unsettling pause and she began to regret her attempt at humor, then Danny burst out laughing. It was the first real laugh she’d heard from him since he’d come home.

“Are you going to be okay driving with your new leg?” she asked. “Are you worried?”

“Nah, I’ve driven a couple times since I’ve been home. This truck’s an automatic. I can use my good right leg for the gas and brake.” He reached over and tugged on a lock of her hair, like he used to do when they were kids, then pulled out onto the road.

Ali was relieved she didn’t have to worry about coming up with stuff to talk about; he had the radio up too loud for them to hear each other.

They came to the small stretch of freeway on the way to the feed store. As they merged into traffic, Danny’s demeanor changed. He sat up straighter and his eyes darted all around. He watched his mirrors constantly and seemed overly anxious when cars pulled alongside them or passed.

She didn’t remember him ever being this cautious when he was younger. He’d been a little bit of a daredevil before he’d left for the war. Maybe the Army had taught him a different driving technique?

And then it dawned on her. Danny had had to be vigilant all the time when he was in Afghanistan—if he wanted to stay alive.

She swallowed hard, knowing she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in a war zone every day. She found it difficult to be around horses after what she’d gone through with Max, but that was nothing compared to what Danny had experienced.

She had healed; her arm was back to normal. Danny
would never get his leg back—or his peace of mind, it seemed.
Poor Danny
.

Ali stared down the road ahead of them. Hot tears pressed against the backs of her eyes, but she didn’t dare cry in front of Danny.

“Hey, why the long face?” Danny hollered over the music. “You’ve got two horses standing in the corrals. You should be happy as a crow in a cornfield. You get a chance to start all over again. I think that’s great.”

Ali shrugged. “Cara and I named them,” she said. “At least for now. The black gelding is Wind Dancer, and the white mare is Misty.”

“Good names.”

And that was where the conversation stopped. Ali was actually kind of glad. She didn’t want to talk about horses anymore.

A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Smith’s Feed Store. Ali climbed out of the truck and closed the door. Danny didn’t make any move to follow her, so she poked her head back through the window and asked, “Are you coming in?”

“Unless you need my help, I’ll just wait here and listen to music. I don’t really have any interest in looking at horse stuff.”

“I’ll be done in about ten minutes.” Ali turned to leave.

“Wait.” He held a twenty-dollar bill out the window. “Buy something for yourself, okay? Get something special that you wouldn’t normally spend your own money on.”

Ali hesitated, but took the money when he poked it at her. This must be his way of apologizing for the way he’d been behaving. “Thanks,” she said, and tried to smile.

Smith’s Feed Store was cool and inviting inside. It had
been a long time since she’d been here. She stood in the corner and closed her eyes, taking in the smell of hay, oats, and saddle leather. It was one of the best smelling places on earth.

In the other room Ali could hear the
peep, peep, peep
of baby chicks and the soft mumble of people talking. She opened her eyes and looked around. The owner had moved things around since she’d last shopped here.

She selected a rubber curry comb, a soft body brush, and a hoof pick, then ordered a couple of bales of alfalfa at the counter. The horses weren’t allowed to eat much right now, so there was no sense in buying much more. Besides, once they were allowed to eat normal rations, they would switch back to grass hay. Horses that weren’t being worked hard didn’t really need the high protein that alfalfa provided.

“Can I please get a bag of grain too?” she asked. She hoped the horses would be ready for it soon. Max had loved grain. It was his favorite, besides carrots.

She paid for it all, then remembered the money that Danny had given her. What could she buy? She didn’t want to purchase any tack, not that there was any available for twenty dollars.

The peeping of the chicks drew her attention again. Ali walked over to the cage. She couldn’t help smiling when she looked at the cute little yellow balls of fluff. They meandered around the cage, pecking at their food and the pine shavings on the floor.

“How much for two chicks?” Ali asked. “And what would I need to go with them?”

Ten minutes later, she left the feed store with several bags and a small box with holes punched in the lid. Danny frowned when he heard the peeps. “Is that what my twenty dollars bought?”

She nodded. “There’s one for me and one for you, and they’re really, really cute.”

Danny smacked his palm to his forehead. “And we’re
really, really
going to be in trouble when Mom and Dad see us hop out of the truck with an armload of baby chicks.”

“The feed guy says they’re both girls,” Ali said. “I didn’t think the neighbors would like to hear a rooster waking them up at dawn.”

The truck rocked as the loading boys tossed the bales of alfalfa and sack of grain into the back. When they were done, Danny started the engine. “I don’t think our family would appreciate it much either,” he said. “But Mom’s really good at frying chicken.”

“Ugh!” Ali pulled the box of chicks closer. “Not funny, brother.” But she chuckled anyway. “I think we should name them. I’m going to call mine Henrietta. Henrietta the Hen. What are you going to call yours?” She opened the box and tilted it so Danny could see inside. “It’s the one with the little dark spot on its head.”

“I’m not naming a stupid chicken.” He pulled forward and they waited at the edge of the parking lot while an old beater car rolled past them, sputtering and belching smoke. Danny pulled carefully onto the road behind it and headed toward the four-lane highway. The smoke from the vehicle floated into the open windows of their truck.

“Just our luck.” Ali fanned the air. “Can we go around this guy? This smoke is horrible.”

Danny eyed all of his mirrors. “We’ll be on the highway soon. It’s only a short drive to our exit. I don’t want to drive any faster. The speed limit is only twenty-five here.”

Ali stretched her T-shirt up over her nose and counted the mileage markers until they came to the exit. Danny steered
the truck to the right to make the ramp and sped up just a bit to get out of the cloud of smoke.

Suddenly the old car backfired.
Kaboom!

Danny screamed and jerked the steering wheel hard left. Ali grabbed the dashboard as the truck careened out of control, fishtailing wildly.

“Roll over, roll over!” Danny hollered as he tried to gain control of the truck. “Heads down!”

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The truck spun in a circle but stayed upright, heading toward a patch of desert at the side of the road. The tires screeched and the truck came to rest against the sagebrush in the deep sand.

The chicks peeped loudly; their box had landed upside-down near the door. Ali reached for it and held it tight to her chest, trying hard not to blubber.

Danny sat with his hands gripping the steering wheel, staring blindly out the window. Slowly he turned to face her, his eyes still clouded and distant, like he didn’t know where he was. Her hiccupping cries must have cut through the murk because Ali could see him gradually begin to focus. The guilt and fear that flashed across his face squeezed her heart.

He reached across the seat and pulled her into a protective hug. The seat belt held her in place, straining against her neck. She thought she might suffocate. The chicks protested loudly as the pressure against their small box mounted.

Danny finally released her, but then he took her face in his shaking hands. “Are you okay, sis? Ali, are you hurt?”

It had been a long time since she’d heard that much concern in her brother’s voice. She shook her head, but tears still streamed down her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the accident—it was Danny. He still had a faraway look in his eyes. It scared her.

Danny checked her for blood or cuts, clumsily turning her head and accidently pulling her hair.

“I’m fine!” Ali said as loudly as she could. “I’m okay,” she repeated in a calmer voice and pulled away.

Danny stared out the window and scrubbed his face with his trembling hands. “We’re gonna be okay,” he whispered. “Everything is fine.”

Ali set the baby chicks on the seat beside her. At the moment, it didn’t feel like things would ever be okay again.

Eleven

Ali couldn’t stop shaking. “Are you okay?” she asked Danny. “What happened back there?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I was driving down the road, and next thing I know, we’re swerving all over the place. We’re lucky we didn’t crash. What happened? Did we blow a tire or something?”

“That old car backfired and you hollered and pulled on the wheel,” she reminded him. “The truck started spinning out of control, and we ended up here.”

“What backfire? I remember passing the old car as we entered the ramp …” Danny paused, rubbing his temples. “Wait … there was a loud noise before we skidded off the ramp.”

“Danny, are you sure you’re okay?” Ali tried to keep the worry out of her voice. Maybe she should call her parents? She looked around for her cell phone, but it had been flung somewhere in the truck when they were spinning.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” he asked. “
I’m fine!

A car passed, slowing down to take a look at the truck
wedged in the sagebrush. Ali could see the kids in the back staring out the window, their mouths agape.

Danny put the truck in gear and gave it some gas. The tires spun a few times then took hold, and the truck crawled back onto the ramp. He glanced at Ali. “When we get home …”

“Yeah, I know the routine,” Ali said, sounding snarkier than she intended. “Don’t tell Mom and Dad because you don’t want to upset them.”

Danny didn’t respond. Instead, he glanced back into the bed of the truck. “At least we didn’t lose any of the feed.”

The chicks started peeping again and Ali pulled the box onto her lap. “Do you think Mom and Dad will let me keep them?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

Danny kept his eyes on the road. He seemed a little more relaxed and his voice was softer. “I don’t know. The family could probably use a pet. But I’m not really sure if chickens qualify.”

Ten minutes later, they pulled into the driveway. Danny drove around to the back and parked near the barn. Misty watched them pull up, but Wind Dancer stood with his head down, seemingly oblivious to anything that went on around him.

Their parents were waiting in the yard.
Great
, Ali thought. How could she get out of the truck and act as if nothing had happened?

She opened the door and hopped down, holding the box of chicks. She glanced at the truck. She noticed some light scratches on the side panel from the sagebrush, but there was no other damage.

“What have you got there?” Her father dropped the tailgate and started unloading the feed.

Ali hesitated, but Danny jumped right in. “I bought Ali a couple of baby chicks.” He set the bags of supplies down next
to the corral. “Thought it might be nice to have some fresh eggs for breakfast sometime in the near future.” He winked at Ali.

Ali’s heart swelled. She vowed not to give up on him.

“Hmmm …” Her mother inspected the new additions. A chick peeped and she smiled. “I’m not sure where we should put them. There’s no chicken coop here and you can’t let them roam the yard when they’re this little. Stray cats, hawks, or coyotes would get them.”

“I didn’t think about that,” Ali said. “Maybe I can keep them in my room?”

Her dad stacked the bales of hay on the pallet next to the corrals and set down the grain beside them. “Chickens aren’t indoor pets, Ali. But I saw some chicken wire in the back of the barn. We can dig through that pile of old boards to find something you can use.”

“Maybe your brother can help?” their mom suggested.

Danny limped toward the house. “Maybe later, Mom. I’m really tired. The trip wore me out and this prosthetic is hurting me.”

“It’s okay.” Ali put the box of chicks on top of the hay bales. “I can probably come up with something.”

“I’ll help you put it together,” her father offered.

Some of Danny’s stubbornness must have rubbed off on her. “Thanks, Dad, but I can do this myself,” she said. “How hard can it be to build a pen for a couple of tiny chicks?”

But two hours later when she stood back and looked at her new chicken pen, she had to admit that she might be the new slumlord of Chickenville. The posts were crooked and the wire wasn’t secured to them very well. She had no idea how to build a coop, so she’d given up and used an empty cardboard box with a blanket inside.

Cara rode up. “What is it?” she asked, staring at the mess.

Ali sighed. “It’s a chicken pen for the new chicks I bought.”

“Can I see them?”

Ali opened the cardboard box and Cara scooped out one of the chicks, holding it close and rubbing her chin against its soft, fuzzy feathers.

“That one is Henrietta,” Ali said. “Danny hasn’t named his yet.”

“One of these is Danny’s?” Cara asked. “I thought he just hung out in his room all day playing video games. He doesn’t seem the baby-chick-type guy.”

“He’s not. But I’m trying to get him interested in
something
and I thought maybe he’d like a pet.”

“Chickens aren’t really pets.” Cara scratched the chick’s head. “I mean, they’re cute when they’re this size. But you can’t really
do
anything with them. They grow up into chickens and just kind of strut around the yard and lay eggs.
Booooring
!”

They set the chicks loose in their pen and watched as they pecked at the feed and stumbled into their water dish. Their little peeps were comforting.

It had been almost two years since Ali had had a pet. It felt kind of good to have one again. Of course, there were the horses. But they were just here temporarily. As soon as they got better, someone else would adopt them. Ali glanced at her cell phone. “It’s time to feed the horses.”

She cut open the top bale of hay and separated the flake of alfalfa into quarters. She shook a quarter flake into each bucket and handed one to her friend. Cara went straight for Misty’s pen, leaving her to feed the black gelding. Had her friend done that on purpose, forcing her to spend more time
with Wind Dancer?
Well, it won’t work
, she thought.
I’m not going to fall in love with these horses
.

She let herself into the other pen and offered the hay to Wind Dancer. Once again he showed little interest. Ali noticed that Misty walked right up to Cara and stuck her head into the feed bucket. She wished Wind Dancer would do the same. Maybe she was doing something wrong.

She tried to remember what Jamie had shown her. She crushed some of the alfalfa leaves in her hand then rubbed them near his nostrils to give him the scent. Next, she put some of the soft pieces in his mouth, gently pushing them through the space at the side.

Wind Dancer rolled those around on his tongue for a bit. Ali gave him some more, being careful to leave out the stems for the moment. The gelding worked those back into his grinder teeth at the back of his jaw and Ali felt the thrill of victory when he started to chew. She gave him another mouthful and waited for him to chew it. It seemed like it took forever.

“Misty is done.” Cara presented the empty bucket. “Are you sure we can’t give her just a little more?”

Ali looked up in surprise. She had been concentrating so hard on Wind Dancer that she had forgotten about Misty and Cara. She shook her head vehemently. “Dr. Forrester said no. I don’t know where the dividing line is on too much food. I don’t want to take a chance on overfeeding them. It might make them sick.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Cara said. “Better to be safe.”

Ali held the bucket while Wind Dancer picked through the hay, chewing slowly. She remembered what he had looked like when he was healthy: broad-chested, with a compact body and large hindquarters. His legs were still strong
and straight—like most Appys—but he didn’t show much desire to use them.

She had to smile when she looked at his wispy mane and tail. Misty’s was the same way. Most Appaloosas didn’t have long, thick manes and tails like other horses. Max’s had been pretty sparse too.

Her heart pinched a little when she thought of her pony. Try as she might to forget those fun times she missed so badly, she just couldn’t. But today, when she was standing here staring at a larger version of Max, it didn’t seem to hurt quite so much.

The gelding ate a little more food, but he still had about a quarter of his ration left. At least he seemed to be improving. Maybe in another four hours, when it was time for the next feeding, he would eat the entire portion. She clipped the feed pail to the railing in case he decided he wanted to finish it off. The vet hadn’t mentioned any time limit.

“Can we brush them?” Cara asked. “You seem to be getting along pretty well with Wind Dancer. I bet he’d enjoy it.”

Ali shook her head. “Not today.” She’d come too close to feeling something for Wind Dancer just a moment ago. She didn’t want to take the chance of brushing and fussing over the horses and possibly bonding with them. Their coats were clean enough for now.

Cara gave her a strange look, but Ali shrugged it off. “Jamie washed and brushed them before they brought them over.”

“Okay.” Cara didn’t sound convinced. “Then I’ll head home and do some homework.”

“Wow, I’m impressed!” Ali slapped her a high five. “I really am rubbing off on you.”

Cara picked up her bike. “Just don’t tell anyone. I don’t
want to wreck my reputation as a wild child,” she said with a laugh.

“You’re smart.” Ali walked down the driveway with Cara. “You could get better grades if you’d just study. And you know I’ll help you anytime you need it.”

“Thanks.” Cara swung her leg over her bicycle. “Maybe you can help me study, and I’ll help you with the horses.”

“Deal!” Ali waved goodbye, then walked up her back steps and headed to her room. Grabbing her books, she took a seat at her desk by the window.

She tried to focus on her homework, but her eyes kept drifting to the horses below. What would become of them if she were able to save them? Who would their next owner be? What if it was someone who didn’t treat them very well?

Finally it was feed time. Ali jumped out of her chair and made her way to the corrals. Wind Dancer hadn’t finished his previous meal, but he had eaten a bit more of it. She gave Misty her ration, knowing that she wouldn’t have to coax the mare into eating.

Wind Dancer was another story. She tossed out the small bit he hadn’t finished, filled the bucket with fresh hay, and went through the routine again, placing the hay on his tongue and encouraging him to chew. “I think you just want the extra attention,” Ali said as she straightened his forelock.

Ali worked with the horse for around an hour. He ate about the same amount as he had earlier, which wasn’t much, but at least he was eating. She hung his bucket on the hook and did a quick check on the chicks, then went in to clean up for dinner.

When she came back downstairs, Ali was disappointed to see that Danny wasn’t at the table. It had been a crazy day with running off the road and all, but she felt like they had
made some progress just hanging out during the ride before that.

When she remembered the spinning truck, her stomach did a rollover. One more secret she had to keep from her parents.

Ali took a seat at the table, praying the guilt didn’t show on her face. “Where’s Danny?” she asked.

“I think he’s sleeping,” her mother said. “He can eat when he gets up. I guess the trip to the feed store really wore him out.”

Ali groaned inwardly. Her mom had no idea … “So, Cara and I named the horses,” she said.

“Oh?” her father said. “And what names did you pick?”

“Please don’t tell me Cara chose something like Strudel, or Cupcake!” Her mother laughed.

Ali smiled. “No, we picked good ones,” she assured them. “The gelding’s name is Wind Dancer, and the mare is Misty.”

“Perfect!” her mother said.

After dinner, Ali helped her mom clean up the dishes, then sat down to watch a movie with her dad. The horses’ next feeding wouldn’t be until 9:00. Her homework was done. She could kick back for a couple of hours and relax.

About halfway through the movie, Ali heard Danny bumping around in the kitchen. He didn’t come to join them, so she turned her attention back to the television. When it was over, she got up to go feed the horses and chicks.

“Do you need any help?” her mother asked.

“Thanks, Mom, but I’ve got it. I just need to go upstairs and change.”

The sun was going down, making it difficult to see the barn and corrals, but she peeked out her window while she pulled on her boots. What she saw brought her up short.

Danny was outside. He leaned on the corral by Wind Dancer’s pen, his crutches propped against the fence. The gelding pressed his nose against Danny’s shirtfront while her brother scratched him behind the ears.

She hurried downstairs and out the back door. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded harsher than she meant for it to.

Danny’s head snapped around in surprise. “Nothing,” he mumbled, reaching for his crutches and quickly making his way back to the house.

Ali watched him go, feeling guilty for sounding so accusing. She stared at Wind Dancer.
She
was the one feeding and caring for him. Why didn’t he act like he wanted
her
around? It wasn’t fair.

She took a deep breath. She should be happy that her brother was interested in something besides video games. And she should be thrilled that Wind Dancer wanted attention—even if it wasn’t from her.

She picked up the feed buckets, divided the hay into them, and hung them for the horses to eat. She wasn’t sure Wind Dancer would eat his hay on his own, but he needed to start trying. She’d check on him after she fed the baby chicks.

Ali stomped around the corner of the barn, wondering why she felt so peeved. Why should she feel jealous of her brother? It didn’t matter who Wind Dancer liked best. She reached the chicken pen and froze.

The pen had been rebuilt. The poles stood straight and the wire was tight. An old doghouse that’d been abandoned behind the barn was serving as a chicken coop; it now housed nesting boxes.

Had her father done this? No, he couldn’t have. He’d been watching television with her.

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