Free Rain Dance by Terri Farley Page A

high-pitched squeal that made Sam’s ears ring.
    Eyes clamped on Sunny, Sam scooted away from the filly. One knee back, then the other, then the first one, until her boot sole hit the side of the stall. Slowly, Sam stood.
    Sunny’s black-rimmed ears tipped forward. Way forward.
    Sam knew she should escape while the mare was still trying to puzzle things out.
    Quality time with her new horse could wait.
    Sam almost made it to the stall door before Sunny rocked to her feet with a groan.
    Sam’s hand had already drawn the bolt when Sunny swung her head forward into Sam’s shoulder.
    â€œI get it,” Sam said. She slipped from the stall and closed the door instead of standing to rub the bump she knew would bruise. “You think it would be a good idea if I visited from outside.”
    Sam had read that foals saw all large objects as pretty much the same, but as soon as the black filly saw Sunny stand, she seemed to realize she was hungry.
    â€œYou know your mama,” Sam said.
    The filly placed her front hooves far apart and pushed with her back legs, trying to stand.
    Her dainty ears flopped out to each side. Sam really hoped they wouldn’t stay that way.
    Her little whisk of a tail stuck straight up, as if she thought it was a critical part of balance.
    Were those long legs supposed to look so rubbery? They seemed to bend at many angles, not just at the joints.
    Poor little thing , Sam thought as the foal finally balanced on four trembling legs. Her shiny black muzzle reached toward Sunny, stretching as far as her new neck would allow, but the mare actually moved a step away, to begin eating the bran mash.
    â€œSunny!” Sam whispered. “That’s mean.”
    Sunny ignored them both and began chewing her bran with pleasure.
    Maybe that was the way nature meant the mare to act, because the foal didn’t give up. Concentrating as if she were trying to do algebra, the little black filly moved one front leg, then the other, then used a little buck to make her hind legs catch up.
    Once, her legs quivered so hard, Sam was sure she’d fall, but the filly’s head came up, her ears pointed at her mother, and she swayed forward until she ran into Sunny’s side.
    Then she turned her head to nurse. Sunny’s head lashed around, ears flattened, and her teeth clacked on the air.
    Surprised but not discouraged, the filly swayed on her unsteady legs and gave it another try. This time Dark Sunshine let the filly nurse while she went back to the bran mash.
    Sam sighed in relief as the filly’s tail swished from side to side.
    â€œLooks like it’s dinnertime for you two. I’m kind of hungry, myself,” Sam said.
    She glanced at her watch. It was nine o’clock. No wonder she was hungry. The horses would probably be fine if she ran into the house, grabbed something, and ran back.
    She stared at Sunny and her foal, feeling as if she’d forgotten something.
    â€œTepid water,” she said quietly. Dallas had told her the mare would be thirsty after she gave birth, but should be given tepid water because cold water might give her stomach cramps.
    Sunny hadn’t been nosing around her bucket yet, so Sam guessed she still had time to heat some water and mix it with what the mare already had.
    Sam crept away from the stall with Blaze behind her.
    â€œYou’ve sure been quiet,” she said, petting his black-and-white head. As they stepped out into the summer night, she knelt and hugged his neck. “Thanks for keeping watch.”
    Blaze tolerated her hug for a minute, then wagged his tail, wriggled loose and bounded into the ranch yard, barking.
    In the ten-acre pasture, Amigo, Popcorn, and Sweetheart reacted by racing in mock terror across the field.
    The storm had moved east. Lightning glimmeredover the Calico Mountains. Here, all was quiet except the vines fluttering against the trellis Gram had built in the garden. When they bloomed, they’d be