Patchwork Bride
“The big Arabian nickered, poking his nose over the half door to make sure there was no grain to be found in Shane’s hand.
“Sorry, buddy. You already had your share.” He rubbed the animal’s nose, laughing as the velvet lips nibbled at his gloves, which very well might have smelled of grain. “I’ll be back with your supper later, big guy.”
The gelding shook his head, as if he understood perfectly, and nickered to his next-door neighbor, as if to start a horsey discussion. Shane grabbed the empty b...ucket and damp towels, the curry comb and the hoof pick and headed down the aisle.
“Shane?” Her voice welcomed him, as refreshing as first dawn’s touch on a waiting world. She’d changed out of her Sunday best into a simple cotton dress, adorned with dainty touches of lace and silk. She carried a small basket in hand. “I know you are supposed to fend for yourself on Sundays, but since you drove us to church because Papa was busy, we ought to at least provide you with lunch.”MoreLess
“Sorry, buddy. You already had your share.” He rubbed the animal’s nose, laughing as the velvet lips nibbled at his gloves, which very well might have smelled of grain. “I’ll be back with your supper later, big guy.”
The gelding shook his head, as if he understood perfectly, and nickered to his next-door neighbor, as if to start a horsey discussion. Shane grabbed the empty b...ucket and damp towels, the curry comb and the hoof pick and headed down the aisle.
“Shane?” Her voice welcomed him, as refreshing as first dawn’s touch on a waiting world. She’d changed out of her Sunday best into a simple cotton dress, adorned with dainty touches of lace and silk. She carried a small basket in hand. “I know you are supposed to fend for yourself on Sundays, but since you drove us to church because Papa was busy, we ought to at least provide you with lunch.”MoreLess
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