I was fresh out of rehab when my husband took me out to the farm he hunts from Fall to Winter. It was my first breath of nature in weeks, yet I walked the trails with great trepidation.

From the minute I’d left the truck, the owners’ horse had followed my every move. I’m terrified of horses, learned behavior from my father’s phobia-I’d never bonded with the majestic beasts I’d come into contact with over the years.

“Stay clear of him, he’s a wild one,” Dwain warned.

And so it was I stepped closer. Best way to get me to do something is to instruct me not to do it.

“Careful,” my husband admonised.

Captain has become much more than my friend over the ensuing months-he is a kindred spirit.

His eyes are the windows to souls I’ve known before, and by his side I find a peculiar peace-a knowing that all is as it should be, and then some.

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