Poem

Sparky's eyes narrow at Faith, though his expression is still a teasing one. "Well at least I'd have someone hugging me all day instead of picking on me."

"Aw, feeling picked on?" Jim teases.

Sparky finally has enough control to stop laughing, and he quirks an eyebrow at his brother. "Maybe." Another elbow is shot in Annie's direction, bumping her arm as she tries to take a drink. "Be glad I've been sick. Otherwise, y'all would be in trouble."

In the meantime, his boot has moved again, this time to simply tap Faith's foot.

The day moves along slowly. Sparky winds up needing a nap around lunchtime, exhausted from trying to do work while still recuperating. It doesn't take him long though, to be up and going again, and he finds himself near the back of the barn in a quiet corner, grooming a little bay mare. The radio was going a ways away, playing a country tune, but most of the other hands were working on outdoor tasks right now.

The quiet seemed to allow more time for thinking, and Sparky found his mind wandering in many directions, but usually coming full circle back to Faith. She was so nice... so sweet. He didn't know why he couldn't help but think about her, yet he didn't mind... not really. He did question his own motives though. It was apparent that she didn't mind his flirting with her earlier, and he had to admit he enjoyed it. But was he just taking advantage of her kindness? He'd wound up casually inquiring of Annie about Faith's age and had discovered she was a good fifteen years younger than himself. Was it even right that he'd been flirting with her? Sure, it was harmless enough, but... in the long run, was it really an idea he should be entertaining?

Movement from the mare brings his mind back around and he continues brushing her, determined to make her coat shine. He grins when she bobs her head with pleasure.

"Yeah... you like that, don't you, hmm? Just remember to be this sweet tomorrow and maybe I'll have another apple for you."

Leaning on her back, he picks at a knot in her mane just above her withers. He was oblivious to anyone coming or going around him as his voice came low and soothing to keep the horse calm, poem he recited to only horse's ears.

"And the mare with flowing golden mane,
Took pride in ground she overcame.
The rider proud upon her back,
Fought soul and might for gaining that,
Which men revered and women cheered,
The job no man desired.

"Over mountain hills with stones,
Fields and valleys far from home.
The rider took upon himself,
The risk of life, the risk of health,
To bring the news for all to read,
Express they called it then.

"But mightier, the horse's heart,
Nostril's flared right from the start.
Sweat flowed down her painted brow,
No one ever could see how,
She kept the pace, swore to race,
To bring the precious mail."


"How ya doing, babe?" JT kneels outside the open door of the car, once again, brushing aside Bree's hair from her face. "We're almost there... just a couple more hours."

He looks up to Amanda, his eyes so tired and so full of worry. They'd come a long way... all he wanted was to get to the ranch where he knew it was safe. Then he could relax... but not before.

"Bree..." He tries to rouse her again. "Drink some apple juice? For me?"