I watched as the man placed my saddle and bridle onto the seat beside him. Then, reassured that my tack would be safe, I turned to Frey and began explaining what was going to happen. Not that Frey needed such details, but he nuzzled me happily and waited to see what I would do next. Perhaps he was curious about the fact that his saddle had been placed on the buggy instead of on his back, but horses never complain about such oddities.
Officer Krugle, shaking his head, probably over the silliness of my having a conversation with a horse, escorted the three of us to the buggy’s door and handed us in. Mrs. Penn was already comfortably situated. I chose the seat opposite of hers, and the boys sat down on each side of me, holding onto my arms, and wiggling their bodies as close to me as they could get. Once more I felt like I had twin burrs digging into my pseudo doggy fur.
As the buggy moved forward, I wondered if I’d made a horribly bad decision. What if Officer Krugle threw me into jail for entering the boys’ house, abducting them, or something equally vile? Maybe he suspected me of having stolen my horse. It must be obvious to a trained officer that I had little money.
Plus, I was an unknown. I had personal experience with towns and villages being unwelcome to strangers. As I sat on the seat quietly, ruing my choice and worrying about the outcome, the boys remained clingy but silent. Neither was sobbing anymore. What were they thinking about? Where they just in shock? What could I do to soothe their fears? (Was that like a person who’d never been on a horse, attempting to teach others how to ride?)