Wrangler Dani

Part 1 and Part 2 are around here somewhere…

A couple of weeks later, we had another horse camp.  April was allowed to return on a strict “first-strike-you’re-out” policy, as we were sternly informed when she registered.

On hearing this news, I just grinned at April, a very downcast and rebellious-looking version of her former self. “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said.  “Willow’s been waiting for you.”

She looked up into my face and I saw the faintest sparkle flash in her brilliant blue eyes before she dropped her head again.

“Whatever.”

April continued the week sullen and moody, only breaking her silence to ask for Willow, which we always accommodated.  She tried very hard in her riding lessons, but I could see a restraint in her, a cautiousness that had not been there before.  After the outburst that had ended her last camp experience, I was more cautious as well, longing for her to succeed, but telling myself to not be disappointed if nothing wonderful happened.

However, I could not concentrate solely on April. I had other students to attend to, and another full week of horse camp flew by. The last day of camp, I was standing by the arena, overseeing horses being put out to pasture and watching the winding down of another successful week, lost in my own thoughts.  Abruptly, I felt two skinny arms throw themselves around my waist.  I looked down to see April’s signature tousled blond head buried into the side of my none-too-clean shirt.

I stood stock-still, afraid to move, to touch her, as if I was in the presence of a wild animal whom I didn’t wish to frighten.  After a second’s hesitation, I hugged her back, relishing the rare chance to show this frightened, love-starved child some affection.  I was surprised to hear a muffled, choking sob, and feel her little gasps as she struggled not to cry.

“April? Honey?” I said, concerned, and, squatting down in the arena dirt, I looked intently into her face.

She reached a grimy hand up and rubbed her eyes as though ashamed.  “Thanks,” she whispered. “For giving me Willow.”
I knelt down in the dirt and hugged her tight, and was thrilled to feel her squeeze me back.  That moment was all the reward I needed for the long hours and thankless routine of being a wrangler.

Every moment thereafter when I felt like quitting, when I was tempted to walk away from the sore muscles, constant layer of dust and low pay that comes with wrangler-hood, I remembered that moment, and April’s earnest face, as she smudged her tears along her cheek.

“Thanks… for giving me Willow.”