The Golden Stallion

Percy Smythe was sixteen years old when his parents moved him onto Braselmire Farm. Of course, he did not wish to go but his dad was hired as a farmhand and his mother had gotten a position as a seamstress for the large family that owned the farm. The jobs had come just in time, after his dad had lost his job in the city, they had only had their mother's measly income from the dress factory to rely on. If they had been larger than a family of three, they would have starved.

Percy's dad had grown up on a farm and, when after six months, no other work presented itself he had broadened his search. His mother's cousin had put in a good word for them here and, thankfully, he had gotten the job after some brief correspondence via letters.

The great thing was this job solved several of their problems as it came with a place to live. A small cottage off to the side of the property from the main house.

The Braselmires turned out to be a kind and welcoming family. They, eight girls and one boy. The boy was smack dab in the middle, and all their children also helped around the farm. Each had their own assigned chores. Felecia milked the cows, Nadia fed the chickens...and it was Rose who brushed and fed the horses.

Just two days after their arrival at the farm, Percy had been, after some encouragement from his mother, exploring the farm. He had made his way into the barn and was sitting in the hayloft sulking over his misfortune of being stuck on this farm, far away from his friends in the city and all the entertainment it had provided him, when he heard a sound from below.

It was singing, a female voice singing, but different from his mother's at bedtime or the glamorous black and white figures on the cinema screens he had once frequented when his family had had money, it was girlish and ethereal and reminded him of tinkling bells at Christmas time.

He leaned carefully over the edge of the loft and that was when he saw her. Her red ringlets bounced. She was singing to a tall bay stallion while she brushed him. The song was unlike anything he ever heard. Like it was in another language. He leaned forward, to try to hear more, get closer. Then, one of the boards he was leaning on rocked a little. He lost his balance and pitched forward.

With a yell and thud he landed in a pile of hay just feet away from the slender young woman.

"Oh!" She said and then giggled slightly behind her creamy white hand.

"Sorry!" He half grunted jumping to his feet, trying not to act too hurt. "I was just...well…" he extended his hand. "I'm Percy. My dad just started working for your dad."

She accepted his hand daintily and gave him a coy smile.

"Nice to meet you, Percy. I'm Rose. Tell me, are you a horse person?" She said, patting the stallion hearlity on the neck.

"Um, well not really, I've never really been around them much before, my dad has but I've mostly lived in the city."

Rose tutted and gave him a disapproving look.

"Pity. They are such marvelous creatures. Would you like to see what I mean?"

"Well…" he was afraid she would try to have him ride one and he felt not at all ready for that, but not wanting to look like a coward in front of such a lovely young lady he finally said, "Sure." And attempted an assured smile, tossing his long blond hair out of his face.

"Marvelous. Come with me!"

She walked into one of the vacant stalls further down in the barn. He followed her with some apprehension, but once they were inside she took both his hands in hers and he forgot everything but her delicate, uncalloused fingers on his palms.

"Close your eyes." She almost whispered.

He swallowed hard and did as he was told.

"Good, now I want you to imagine running free in an open field, hooves pounding the earth."

She was close now he could feel her breath on his lips but her voice calmed him and there was a hypnotic quality to the way she spoke.

"Now feel the wind in your mane and tail, smell the grass, hear the sounds of the wilderness around you."

He was surprised how quickly the image came to him. He was a young lean stallion with a coat that rippled gold like his hair. His senses were alive and his muscles working. Vaguely he felt some discomfort in his joints and muscles but it was easy to ignore, as he remained lost in his imagination.

He felt Rose's breath ripple the hair around his ear. "That's a good boy."

That evening, The Smythes searched the farm high and low for their son, but it's not surprising they never found him. After about three weeks they gave him up and had to take to their beds for mourning and when they returned to work they did so with solemn and forlorn expressions.

They could not even get excited with the rest of the farm, at the beautiful new golden stallion as it was put through its paces in the round pen by the beautiful young redhead who spared a small smile for them as they walked by.