The second time around, at the halfway point, Anna wondered whether the stone wall within walking distance of her now was the very one Mammi Eliza was talking about. Wasn’t it possible?

She firmly held Emmie’s arm and leg through her long rose-colored dress, yet never once did Emmie so much as look her way, instead keeping her gaze on the pony’s bobbing head and mane. Promise whinnied softly as they went, and Anna wondered if it was a way for the pony to comfort the little girl.

At the end of the session, Gabe helped Emmie down, and Anna went to get a bucket of water for Promise to drink. After Emmie and the other riders headed for the passenger van, Anna and Katie and a few more volunteers began the work of untacking a few of the horses not needed for the second session. Anna and Katie unbridled Promise and put him in crossties, then removed the girth, saddle, and saddle pad, talking softly to him as they worked. Promise bobbed his head, neighing gently in response.

Eager for the next session, Anna offered to help Dottie in whatever way needed.

“I see they’re putting you to work,” Gabe said when he encountered Anna in the tack room.

“And I’m enjoying it very much.”

“Gut to know,” he said with a smile.

Anna finished hanging up the saddle pad and then stood there, conscious of his continued presence and feeling a bit shy.

“I appreciate your volunteering . . . and I’ll look forward to seein’ ya next Saturday, too,” Gabe finally said, excusing himself to go and meet the incoming riders.

It was more than an hour later that Anna said good-bye to Dottie and headed to the car, grateful to have spent another delightful morning at this very special retreat.

Chapter 25

Monday of the following week, Anna spent time talking with Mart between their individual tours.

“How was your morning at Peaceful Meadows?” Mart asked as he served himself a cup of coffee and walked over to join her at the break room table.

“Oh . . . real nice. I got to be one of the side walkers for a five-year-old girl named Emmie. She doesn’t speak.”

Mart frowned. “Is she autistic?”

Anna shook her head. “No, Emmie became mute when her mother died,” she told him. “She’s just darling, and because she’s so tiny, she always rides a pony named Promise instead of one of the horses. Come to think of it, Promise reminds me of Misty, one of my favorite ponies that Dat raised.”

Mart opened a packet of sugar and stirred some into his mug. “What happened to Misty?”

“We sold her to a family in Peach Bottom,” Anna said, remembering how difficult it had been to part with the sleek beauty. “It was a painful good-bye.”

He reached for his coffee mug. “Did you ever visit her?” He took a sip.