Authors: Sandi Perry
"Of
course
they
did,"
her
mother
responded.
"And
for
the
record,
I
think
your
father
took
after
your
Bubby.
I
think
we've
done
enough
here
for
now.
Come
on,
let's
go
downstairs
and
have
some
ice-cream."
"Only
if
you
have
double-chocolate
chip."
"Of
course
I
do,
what
kind
of
mother
would
I
be
if
I
didn't
stock
my
only
daughter's
favorite
flavor?"
As
they
walked
downstairs,
Allison
asked
if
Patrick's
Farm
was
still
open.
"It
is,
but
apple-picking
season
is
over.
Why
would
you
bring
that
up,
now?"
"I
saw
a
picture
of
that
day
we
went
riding
and
you
all
rode
away
and
left
me."
"Oh
my!
That
was
a
moment!"
her
mother
laughed.
"Do
you
think
they
still
have
their
stables?"
"Yes,
why?"
"I'm
feeling
a
little
nostalgic.
I
was
thinking
of
taking
a
ride
over
there
tomorrow."
"That's
a
nice
idea,
just
remember
to
dress
warmly,"
she
said.
"Would
you
like
to
take
a
drive
over
to
my
studio,
now?
I
have
some
new
pieces
I've
been
working
on."
"I'd
love
to.
Tell
me
about
them."
"It's
better
to
show
you,
but
I've
created
a
theme
and
the
vases
and
bowls
can
be
bought
separately
or
in
a
group.
I
went
for
a
pop-art
neon
look,"
her
mother
said.
"Wow!
That's
a
departure,
and
I
like
that
you're
thinking
in
terms
of
selling
them—that's
always
been
my
role."
"And
you've
done
it
brilliantly.
I
think
you
might
be
surprised
with
your
old
Mom
and
her
new
creative
juices."
"Bring
it
on!"
Allison
said
as
they
laughed
together.
****
The
next
morning
Allison
put
on
her
boots,
a
pair
of
faded
jeans,
her
bright
orange
down
vest
and
a
knit
ski
cap
pulled
down
low
over
her
hair.
She
took
the
windy
mountain
road
on
Route
202
toward
Suffern
and
pulled
up
to
the
farm.
The
day
was
crisp,
but
the
strong
sun
took
out
most
of
the
sting.
She
got
out
of
the
car
and
walked
the
short
distance
to
the
fence
surrounding
the
property.
It
was
so
peaceful.
Smiling
as
she
spotted
the
horses
off
in
the
distance,
she
remembered
her
ill-fated
attempt
at
riding.
"Come
on,
Ally,
get
up
on
the
horse,
already,"
Jeremy
urged
her.
"Give
her
a
minute,"
her
mother
said
kindly.
"Allison,
is
the
horse
looking
a
lot
bigger
to
you
than
you
thought
it
would
be?"
Allison
nodded
woodenly.
"Well
this
family
outing
was
her
idea,"
Jeremy
scowled.
"Get
on
the
horse.
It's
a
dumb
beast
and
you're
a
whole
lot
smarter.
Show
him
who's
boss,"
her
father
encouraged.
They
all
turned
their
heads
as
the
young
grandson
of
Mr.
Patrick
came
over
to
offer
his
help."We've
got
a
smaller
one
out
back.
It'll
take
me
a
second
to
bring
her
around,"
he
offered.
"That's
not
necessary,"
her
father
said.
"She
has
to
learn
to
face
her
fears."
"Daniel,
she's
only
eleven,"
her
mother
said.
Her
father
took
a
deep
breath
and
made
a
pitiful
stab
at
lightening
up
the
situation.
"Well,
it's
a
good
thing
we
don't
live
in
the
eighteen
hundreds,
huh,
Ally?
You
stay
here
with,
what's
your
name,
son?"
"It's
Ritchie."
"Ritchie
will
show
you
around
the
place.
Show
you
how
to
feed
the
goats.
We
paid
for
our
time,
no
sense
in
taking
a
total
loss."
Relief
washed
over
her
only
to
be
replaced
by
shock
a
second
later
when
they
all
went
off
on
their
trot
without
her.
A
movement
to
her
right
broke
her
reverie,
and
she
took
notice
of
a
ruggedly
handsome
man
riding
his
horse
toward
her.
He
jumped
off
in
one
swift
movement
and
tied
the
horse
to
the
fence
where
she
had
been
leaning.
She
cocked
her
head
as
she
studied
him
carefully.
He
came
toward
her
and
doffed
his
hat,
"Good
morning."
"Good
morning,"
she
responded.
"Do
you
want
to
take
a
horse
out
for
a
spin?"
She
shook
her
head
vehemently,
"Definitely
not."
His
features
broke
into
a
wide
grin,
"I
think
I
know
you.
I
remember
your
eyes;
I'd
never
seen
ice-blue
eyes
before.
Or
since."
He
extended
his
hand,
"I'm
Ritchie
Patrick."