When the meal was over, I tried as I always did to help Mrs. Penn with the clean-up, but she shook her head.
“Hush, child. I’ll do it. I bet that horse of yours would like a nice bit of exercise. Leave the boys to me, and you take a break and enjoy yourself. We’ll be fine. I’ll find an activity for them.”
“But, it’s my responsibility. I can’t . . .”
“Yes, you can. Go on now. As young as you are, you deserve some fun. You go get some sunshine and freedom. I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of hours, you hear me?”
I’d actually been worrying about Frey. Stallions need to stretch their legs. They can’t be cooped up in a small backyard without getting themselves into mischief. They’re just not made that way, Gaia knows.
So, although I had serious reservations about deserving the break that Mrs. Penn had just given me, I ran upstairs, changed my clothes, and dashed back down. I didn’t have to explain anything to the boys. Mrs. Penn was already asking them if they’d help her bake cookies. Their enthusiasm was loud enough to be heard out in the street.
I ran by, kissed each little fellow, and said, “I’ll be back in a little bit. You be good, ok?”
“We’re making cookies,” Carlo said, and Frances, although he didn’t add anything to his brother’s statement, was beaming just as widely.
I’m not sure either of them registered that I was heading for the back door. They were already learning how to measure flour.
Frey, as I’d feared, had accepted the tediousness of his small quarters as an excuse for mischief. He was busy working on the gate’s latch. I don’t think he’d head off on his own even if he got the gate open, but a challenge is always fun if you’re a bored stallion. When he heard me come out of the house, he wheeled about and came at me like a toboggan going downhill.
“Whoa,” I said, trying to force his brakes into action. Of course, I wasn’t really worried. Frey could turn instantly. In fact, that was his favorite sport back in the village. He’d chase his ball all about, pivoting and spinning about like a piece of driftwood in river rapids.
Sure enough, he slammed on the brakes and gently dropped his head on my chest, ready for a pleasant moment of petting.