Jeanie
“Miss Jeanie! Your interviewee is here!” Cori bounced down the barn aisle.
“Darn it! Already?” I wasn’t wearing a watch, I must have lost track of time. I had one of the trail horses, a liver chestnut mare named Cricket, secured in cross-ties, and had been diligently trying to work the burdocks out of her matted mane. Unfortunately the pesky barbed plant pods came off the horse and stuck to me, and made me very itchy in the process.
“He’s kind of cute too,” Cori said with a wide smile. “I mean, for an old dude.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Can you take over here?”
“Yeah,sure!” She took the plastic comb from me, along with the bottle of baby oil that helped untangle the burrs from the horse’s long hair.
I wiped my hands on a dirty towel and hurried across the road and up the hill to
