Free A Feather in the Rain by Alex Cord

sweet feed on the lid which vanished like a teacup in a twister. She grained the horses and tossed flakes of hay. She unrolled a hose and filled the water buckets, then hauled it through a fence to the duck pond and let it run while she fed the ducks. She labored like a farmer, without a hint of the pampering she’d known.
    Dance, a round-ribbed gray mare, was the gentlest and least intimidating of the three. She was soft-eyed, pretty-headed, and stood quietly while Holly groomed and saddled her. After weeks of idleness, an excess of energy pranced in her step anticipating a rider. Not without trepidation, Holly put her foot in the stirrup and eased lightly into the saddle.
    She felt the mare’s pent-up desire to uncork and spoke soothingly, asking her to be a good girl. She rode down the dirt road to a bridle path across the open pastures of neighboring property. Before long they both began to relax and come together. As she became aware of the distinct movement of the mare between her legs, she remembered Jesse saying that when you get good you’ll know which of the horse’s feet are leaving the ground and when, as if they were your own. Then you can place them where you want. She tried tofeel the left front foot. That leather cowboy who had never even been to New York, smelled a subway, or haggled with a Parisian landlady; she wondered what he was up to right then…in Texas.
    There was the wind-borne scent of sage and flashes of magpies on fence posts strung with wire. She thought of her brother Brad and his vivid presence in anything she had ever enjoyed. How desperately she missed him.
    She was walking back to the house when Ray Cooper’s pickup turned into the drive. Ray was a cowboy, an artist, and a craftsman. He was building a little one-room house for Holly to have to herself. No plumbing, no kitchen, but it would have electricity. They called it the Holly House, the size of a bedsheet, off to the side of the main house. She told Ray how much she loved the little porch he was adding, a great place to watch sunsets.
    An old brick warehouse housed a video editing company. Holly Marie sat in the near darkness punching keys and twisting dials, gazing intently at the monitors. She stopped the tape, rolled it back and started it again. It was Jesse talking to Daniel, the cystic fibrosis boy. The camera had crept in to a close-up on Jesse. His tenderness and compassion clear as he placed his hand on the spare shoulder of the boy struggling for breath. Holly’s throat tightened as she spoke aloud to the empty room, “Look at that…it’s beautiful.”
    Later that evening, she showed it to Bear and Ruby. Each time Jesse appeared, they commented on his sincerity and how effective he was on camera. “Don’t you think so, Holly?” Ruby asked.
    â€œYep.”
    Bear said, “He’s a natural.”
    â€œHe’s very appealing. Don’t you think so, Holly?” said Ruby.
    â€œYep…” and then almost to herself, said, “I didn’t think he liked me very much at first.”
    Ruby’s hand paused midway between her mouth and the bowl of popcorn Holly had made for them. “Why do you say that?”
    â€œHe hardly ever looked at me. Whenever I was around, he ignored me or looked away or talked to Larry or something.”
    Bear laughed.
    â€œWhat’s funny?”
    â€œI think you just made him nervous.”
    â€œHow? What did I do? I couldn’t have been nicer.”
    Bear was still laughing. “He’s a country boy. He’s just shy, that’s all. I wrote him a letter today to thank him for coming and all his help and everything. The tape is really great, Holly. You did a wonderful job. The CF people are going to be thrilled.” He put his arm around his daughter and hugged her. “I’m going to give him a call and ask him if he’ll sign a release so we can use him on the tape for promotion and fund