North Oak, Book 1 - BORN TO RUN

Chapter 3: Lost and Found

LOST AND FOUND

I don't need anybody!

Alex braced against a tree to cough and hack. The cool night air seared her lungs like fire. She still couldn't figure out what this place was. It seemed to go on forever, and there weren't many places to hide. Tall lights kept paths well-lit, shadows were scarce. 

Even though she couldn't get her breath, Alex pushed on. Long pastures, fenced in by brown boards, blurred by. She swayed and caught herself on one of the fence posts, wanting nothing more than to fall and never move again.

Could she really push on feeling the way she did? 

In the distance, a long building with soft golden-orange lights dimmed. Maybe she could find somewhere to hide inside for the night. She made her way toward it. 

Once inside, she found young horses, gangly and fuzzy, in immaculate stalls, rustling their hay nets and water buckets. They all seemed to gravitate to their stall doors as she passed, shoving little velvet noses through black iron bars and calling softly to her. 

A hit of sweet hay and warm fur complicated her breathing. She stopped in front of the stall of a horse who was taller, and a little sleeker, than the others. His coat was the color of milk chocolate, but his mane and tail were nearly white.

Alex noticed a plate of brass attached to his door. There were words, but she had never been a good reader. She sounded out the first three letters. "Pro..."

The baby swished his tail and looked at her with intelligent eyes. He snorted and sighed and ambled over to her, forsaking his food which he'd eaten little of anyway.

Alex slipped her fingers through the stall bars and touched his muzzle. She wondered if his bucket weren't full of milk, because his nose and mouth were white, and a thin stripe rocketed up his face. His nostrils flared and contracted as he breathed softly against her hand. Peace washed over Alex, the agony inside falling away.

For the first time, Alex felt fearless. She opened the door and let herself in, carefully closing it behind her. She reached out to him and stroked his soft, plush-like mane. The young horse leaned into her, relishing the contact. Their eyes met for one fleeting moment. This simple act of connecting and not being rejected drilled through the numbness in Alex. 

Fever and weakness caught up to her. She wilted against the weanling and used him to slink to the farthest corner of the stall. When she collapsed, the young horse put himself between her and the door, blocking her from view, blocking out the world.

Steven North pushed his peas around his gold-trimmed porcelain plate, leaning his head against his knuckles. His wife had made a marvelous Beef Wellington for supper, but he simply hadn't the stomach for it. He stared mutely at the juices pooling in the center of his meal and sighed.

"Do you think you'll buy that mare you looked at today?" his wife, Amber, asked.

Steven sighed. "She was a nice mare, but not what I'm looking for."

"Seems like you've been having that problem a lot lately." Amber chewed her food methodically. She swallowed before speaking. "Nothing ever seems like it's quite enough. I don't think what you're looking for is out there, darlin'."

Steven thought of the girl he had found at the gates that morning. He took a drink of water from his crystal glass. Her pale face haunted him. "Has Hillary called at all?"

"Not since you spoke to her when you got back from Paducah."

Steven pursed his lips. He laid his fork and knife down beside each other.