“Whoa, boy!” I slide to a stop, inches from the pony’s back hooves. My eyes sting when I open them. I shut them fast. The world is spinning as I wait for the pain to catch up with me. “That’s a good boy.” It’s Hank’s voice I hear, coming from miles away. “Kat, are you okay? Let go of the rope.” I uncurl my fingers and roll to my side. Fetal position. It hurts to breathe. I cough. It hurts even more. Everywhere. Dakota drops to her knees beside me. “Kat? Can you hear me? I’m sorry! I didn’t . . .... Are you . . . ?” She’s crying hard. I want to tell her I’m okay. Am I? “She’s bleeding, Hank!” Dakota screams. “Where’s she bleeding?” Hank demands. That’s what I want to know. I think of opening my eyes and seeing for myself. But I don’t. “I think it’s just her arms,” Dakota answers. “Or her hands.” She sneezes. Achoo! I smell sawdust. I feel it in my nostrils. Please don’t let me sneeze. The thought of it makes my sides ache. Dakota sneezes again.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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