The pain pulsed in her head with every excruciating heartbeat, her right foreleg screamed in agony, and the pain of the deep slices in her left side seared like a hot brand. Her sight was blurred, seeping in an out, disorienting her. It was so hot inside the metal monster she could hardly breathe.

She had grown so weak with the pain of her injuries, she could not bring herself to even look up when the mental monster rolled t a stop and the horses surrounding her were slowly unloaded about her prone body.

A fresh wave of pain blasted through her head, and she closed her eyes, groaning between heavy, panting breaths. Then suddenly, through the white hot torture, a cool, gentle human hand laid itself upon her neck. Startled, she raised her head, but dropped it down again when her pain shot through her poll in response to the movement. The voice that spoke to her was female. It was a smooth, calm voice that soothed her, and she closed her eyes, taking in the sweet smell and gentle touch that stroke her aching body.

A male voice sounded, low and quiet, not at all like the voices of the men that had loaded her into the metal monster. They conversed quietly for a moment, and the echoes of the man exiting pounded through her head. A gasp came from the girl knelt beside her, and then suddenly, the mare was alone again. She let out tiny, unnoticeable whicker, desperately longing for those soothing hands once more. She was alone, hurt, and completely available to predators. Her heart pounded, and with it her head and other injuries, but her survival instinct rushed adrenaline through her veins as the voices outside argued, the girl's high and shrill, the man's low and distressed.

Out of pure fear of death, the mare managed, after two pathetic attempts, to regain her front legs beneath her. But no matter how she attempted to move her hind legs, nothing happened. She could not cause them to do anything more than flay about wildly. She let out a guttural sound of desperation as she fought to regain her footing, her heart pounding painfully. She was startled into silence when the man returned with the loud stick resting in his hands, cocked and ready to release, the girl hanging desperately on his arm.

"No, please Grandpa! Look, see, she's up! She's got hope don't- just please-", the girl begged. The mare didn't understand her words, but she knew the distressed tone meant trouble for her.

"Amy, if the horse survives the night, she won't survive for long. She knocked her head good-"the man argued.

"Then let her live those days! Just give her a chance, please! Look, let Scott decide!"

There was a pause, and the man lowered his loud stick, and shook his head before walking out silently. Then the girl was there again, cooing to the mare, stroking and messaging with her gentle fingers. The mare's heart rate dropped, and she relaxed her pain-filled head into Amy's lap, relishing in the girl's presence. She had known someone else that touched her like this once…long ago. She had been young, a timid filly, but the woman had filled her with courage and love, and she would have done anything for that two legged.

Another man entered the belly of the monster, but she was too exhausted from her earlier attempts to gain her feet to care. As long as those hands were touching her, she could be killed and she would go peacefully.

"Lou says you've got a mare in a pretty bad way in here, Amy," the man said. The girl looked up.

"Grandpa wanted to shoot her but…I couldn't let him," the girl answered. "Can…can you do anything Scott?" The man took a deep breath.

"I don't know, I'll have to take a look." He stepped forward, and knelt beside the girl. His hands were warm, soft, and as gentle as the girl's. He poked and prodded at her wounds, and it hurt, but she was too weak to care. Finally, he turned to the girl and answered her.

"I can't guarantee she'll make it through the next day, but I'm willing to give her a chance. It's too dangerous to have her stand in here, but we have to get her out. We'll have to roll her onto a sheet and drag her out. Go get a sheet, and I'll sedate her."

The mare didn't understand what had been decided, but the girl left suddenly, and she let out a soft nicker again, but the man soothed her with gentle strokes and talked to her as he fiddled with something. There was a sharp pin-prick, hardly noticeable compared to her other pains, and she suddenly found herself so very, very tired. Her pain dulled from a shrieking level to a dull roar, and she felt the world fall out from beneath her before blacking out.

*********.

"So how that mare with the head is wound doing?" Lou asked the next morning as Amy grabbed a piece of toast and gulped down some milk. Amy visibly perked up, and smiled.

"Great! She managed to stand up with all of us supporting and helping her while Scott rigged her into the sling. She still has her legs on the ground, but only just. Scott said the head injury only mildly affected her ability to walk, and with some rehabilitation and light exercise, she'll be fine. Even that hairline fracture in her right front leg should heal nicely. Most of her wounds otherwise were minor. Shouldn't take long to heal. " She took a bite from her toast and then said around it, "I named her Kismet. It means a lucky turn of fate."

Lou stared at Amy, at a loss of words for the detailed answer, before laughing and nodding her acceptance.

"That's great, Amy," she encouraged. "Just don't forget your homework for Earth Science because you're busy with the horses. You've got the midterm coming up."

"Don't worry, I'm doing my homework in her stall so she can get used to me." The girl bounded out, hair flipping behind her as she slung her book bag over her shoulder as she slipped past her grandfather with a kiss on the cheek.

Jack had just entered the house for his lunch break from the ranch work and sat down at the table as Lou served him a tuna sandwich.

"So, sounds like that mare is doing pretty well," his granddaughter said casually as she cleaned the counters.

"She is. I damn near thought I had died when Scott gave us the bills for the mare's care, even with his friendly discount," Jack answered. "She's comin' along, but she's got a long way to go. The others though, most of them were just dehydrated. They can be sold now."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, Grandpa?" Lou asked, smiling and kissing his cheek as she prepared to leave the kitchen.

"Damn right I would. Costs money to feed those horses. Not that you would know anything about that, what with your [I] dude ranch [/I] horses bein' paid for by Tim," Jack sneered.

"Oh, Grandpa, don't be so grumpy. This is going to be great, ok?" Lou answered as she flitted out of the room, fluffing her hair. She didn't hear the disgruntled sigh from the older man at the table.

********.

Two Weeks Later.

The mare stood in her soft-bedded stall, munching her hay gingerly, still feeling a mild ache in her skull, but otherwise a much happier horse than she had been two weeks prior. Her right foreleg was still tender, but beyond that, her other wounds were simple scabs now. She swished her tail lightly at Spartan, the bay gelding beside her, who nosed through the bars at her curiously. She heard footsteps at the barn door, and looked up, ears perked. She left out a quiet nicker as her Girl walked in, an apple in hand.

Limping slightly, but still managing, the mare eagerly stuck her nose out the top of her stall and sniffed heavily for the treat as Amy cut the apple in half before giving half to the mare and Spartan. She took it graciously, with careful lips, before snuffing at her Girl's hair interestedly. Her Girl always had some new smell on her from her travels outside the ranch.

"Hey Kismet," she greeted the mare happily. "Want to go for a walk, Kis? Come on."

The mare's ears strained forward, and her tail raised slightly in eagerness as her Girl placed the halter about her head, the top padded with soft sheep's skin to protect the newly healed wound. She led the mare out slowly and carefully, waiting for the mare to gain her footing as she exited the stall. Though still a bit wobbly at times, Kismet was coming along nicely, and could even manage a slow trot beside her Girl, as long as she didn't have to turn quickly.

Kismet thoroughly enjoyed her walks with her Girl, be even more than those, was the time she was allowed to graze freely in one of the open pastures while her Girl sat with weird square things in her lap and stared at them intently. She never strayed far from her Girl, and she never rejected when it was time to go in for the evening meal.

When they reached the pasture, Kismet wandered about aimlessly, enjoying her ability to stretch her legs, before making her way to her Girl. She snuffed at the odd objects in her lap, and the girl laughed quietly, rubbing Kismet's forehead. Kismet closed her eyes at the touch for a moment before pushing the things out of her Girl's lap playfully. Her Girl stood and hugged the mare's neck for a moment, then encouraged her foreword, taking off at a jog. Kismet kept along side her girl, moving cautiously on her healing leg, but loving the light tickling of the breeze lifting her mane from her neck.

Oh, if only she could have these moments with her Girl forever.