“Come on, Dessy.” Trent called out again.
Mac smiled and tilted his large white hat my way
as I made my way over to Trent’s horse.
Trent grabbed for my arm, pulling me up behind
him on the painted pony.
Trent and I rode along towards the light of
town, and I tilted my head up watching the
bright stars blinking above. “Isn’t it
exciting Trent, we’re going to Australia
tomorrow morning! I just can’t hardly
imagine! And Mac…he’s so handsome, isn’t
he? Standing tall as if he owns the whole
Trent smiled, amused at my zeal for life and all
things wild. He made a small guttural
noise in recognition to my words. We
arrived at the small homestead we labeled as
home. It was a meager place consisting of
a small two room cabin, our two horses and some
chickens that roamed free. The land it was
on, however, was breathtaking.
My father had left me ownership of 20 acres of
beautiful Tennessee hills. My cousin Trent
and I were the only ones left of our clan in the
area, and my father had made him pledge on his
death bed to watch out for me. Many times
I felt Trent had made this priority his life
more than one duty of many, and I found myself
bucking his protective grip constantly.
I had always been that way, a wild child I
suppose you could call me. Growing up I
had always insisted on going with my father
everywhere he went, rain or snow. Then he
was shot. It was supposedly an accident, a
misfire on the hunting trail one day with his
many companions. Trent was never so sure
and always held suspicion it was intentional, in
some vague effort to gain possession of my
We hopped down off of Trent’s horse, placing it
in the stable for the night with my horse,
Sassy, a pure bread black Arabian horse, a gift
from my father. We went into the cabin and
I jumped right into making the building the fire
in the fireplace, dreamily thinking about the
next morning. I had never been anywhere
outside of this place.
Every fiber in me was jumping to go to such an
exotic place, swim its oceans and take in the
strange customs of another land. Trent
watched me as he placed his hat up on the coat
rack. “What are you thinking about over
there, Dessy?” He asked as he locked the
door and made his way to the food cabinet for
some peppered jerky.
“I’m thinking about Australia, of course.” I
said with a smile. “And I’m thinking about
that Mac fella.” Trent looked down at the
floor after taking a large bite of his dried
treat. “We can’t go Dessy.”