When we arrived at the BLM corrals the next day, we were greeted by a man who introduce himself as the manager. As we wandered around looking at the horses, I noticed a small bay gelding standing being picked on by some bigger horses. "What about him?" I asked, pointing at the horse. "We brought him in a few days ago. As you can see, he gets picked on quite a bit." I studied the horse. I'm usually not affected by animals that aren't treated well by other animals, but there was something about this horse that made me want to help him. "I want him," I said. "Are you sure?" my grandfather asked. I nodded.
When my grandfather dropped me off at River Bend, I hopped out then carefully backed the gelding out of the trailer and put him in the round pen. He ran around and neighed to the other horses. I heard footsteps behind me and tuned to see Wyatt. "Is this the horse you picked out?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. Suddenly I was worried that Wyatt would only see this horse as a skinny, small, beat up gelding, but he only nodded and said, "I'll trust your instincts for getting this horse. What should we call him?" "How about Ace," I said. "It's short and positive." "Alright then," he responded, then walked off. I gave Ace some water and hay then just sat outside the round pen and watched him. He would be the perfect size for Sam, I realized with a laugh. Sam was always so short. I wonder if she grown any taller. I then realized that it had been over a year since she left. I felt the familiar guilty feeling I always got when I thought about her leaving. As much as I didn't want her gone, I knew it was my fault that she was, and I shouldn't be complaining. I knew I had to prepare myself for if she didn't come back, but I couldn't. It was hard to live without her, and there were all kinds of things that would remind me of her. Whenever someone was especially stubborn, or if I ever saw someone with her hair color, or sometimes I would think I heard her voice of laugh, only to turn and see a random person. At school, there were girls that would ask me out, but there was always something wrong with them. They were too tall, too short, talked too much, didn't talk enough, I could always find something. I never thought of Sam as anything more than a friend, but I couldn't see myself dating anyone else. I wonder if she's dating anyone. I know I shouldn't be bothered by this thought, but I am.
I came out of my thoughts to see Ace had walked over to the rail and was looking at me. Progress. I decided to try to push him any further, so I went into the barn to clean tack until someone came to pick me up.
Three Weeks Later
I pushed myself to run harder and faster. I was training for the school cross-country team. Witch ran beside me, her breathing even, though we had been running for at least five miles. She didn't need a halter or lead. She would follow me where ever I went. It sounds pathetic, but Witch had become my best friend. I have some friends at school, there's a guy named Darrell and some other guys, but I always look forward to seeing Witch after school. I realize now that I was in a pretty bad place when Sam left. I might have injured or even killed myself if I hadn't had Witch for a distraction. My life was a blur right after Sam had first left. I would sit in my room and cry for a long time. I didn't eat for a while, and I see now how worried my family, especially my mom, was. I'm a lot quieter now, and I've put on a lot of muscle. I don't ask for help as much and I try not to complain when I'm given a chore I don't particularly like, such as mending fences. I'm not there yet, but I'm on my way to being a buckaroo.