Esperanza-Spirit of the Cimarron by Kathleen Duey

Chapter One

(I placed some music for better reading experience 😄😃)

The second winter of my life was gray and cold and long. The willow stands in our shelter mountain valley were grazed flat. Our lead mare in our stallion died of hunger. So did many of the others we were all weakened. My mother Alma was both shy and small-like me. But she was also stubborn and brave. She decided we had to leave before the snow melted-or starve. Most of the herd stayed behind, too weak or too afraid to travel while the ground was still snow-covered. It was a terrible time.

The herd I had been born into scattered like cottonwood seeds in the wind. Esperanza placed her hooves carefully, following her mother down the steep, muddy path. Alma had been going slowly and she hesitated often on the icy trail. Esperanza glanced back. Three other mares were strung out behind her, walking single file close to the canyon's edge. The they had warmed just enough to begin melting the snow. Far below, at the bottom of the canyon, the river ran hard and fast. There was white foam swirling around the boulders that jutted above the dark water.
The little bands of mares left deep prints in the thawing mud. Esperanza stayed close to her mother. Alma insisted on plodding along, and Esperanza had little choice but to walk slowly and deliberately. Esperanza new it was safest to move carefully in the slick half frozen mud. But she was desperately hungry. If it weren't for the oldest mare, Midnight, she knew they could have gone at least a little faster. Every step down the mountainside brought them closer to new grass on the plains. But Midnight was too old and too weak to go any faster. They were all thin from the hard winter, but Midnight was the thinnest of all. Her bones were shoving against her skin. Esperanza looked down the slope to the river. Its banks were still frozen. The sun wouldn't reach the canyon bottom until midday. It would be a while before spring truly arrived. Esperanza shivered the skin on her flanks to scare off the mosquitoes. There weren't too many yet. They would get worse as the weather warmed-much worse. Esperanza felt uneasy all the time now. Without the protection of a stallion and the guidance of a lead mare, this year's journey had been very different from their usual trek down the mountain. Most of the herd was still miserable and hungry in their wintering valley. But six other horses had set out with Esperanza and her mother. The first night they had all sheltered together in a creek bottom. Esperanza had slept beside her best friend, Alicia. The next morning Esperanza's mother decided to move on. It that all gray mare leading Alicia and her mother decided to stay and eat the willow growing besides the creek. Esperanza new this kind of scattering was usual for herds that had lost their stallions, but that didn't mean she liked it. She had followed her mother, of course, helpless to do more than answer Alicia's whinnies as the distance between them widened. It had been six days since Esperanza had seen Alicia. She knew it was unlikely that she would ever see her again. The other mares stayed with groups of their own good friends. Their daughters were not quite old enough to make their own decisions. Esperanza's mother's little band had three other mares in it... all of them much older than Esperanza. Gentle Midnight was so old she had gray in the velvet fuzz on her muzzle. The other two mares were both dark bays. They looked much alike, except the that Aspen had a leaf-shaped white marking on her forehead, while Willow's blood bay color was unmarred. Esperanza left all these mares. But you missed Alicia terribly. She let out a long breath and stared at her mother daydreaming as they plodded along. Alma was an unlikely leader. She was small-boned, a delicate beauty. She had a lovely face, and her eyes were a deep coppery color. Her buckskin colt was still rough and thick from winter. But once the weather warmed, Esperanza knew, the fine gold-brown color would shine in the sun. Esperanza rippled her skin. Her own coat was getting itchy. It wouldn't be long before they all began to shed. She inherited half her mother's color- the shining gold. But her mother's mane and tail were black; her own were snowy white. Esperanza pulled in a deep breath of the sweet thin air. She would be so glad to be down out of the mountains this year. The herd always wintered in the mountains. The high valleys gave them shelter from the killing winds of the grassless winter plains. But this winter had been too long and too cold. His parents couldn't wait to be out of the plains again, with the spring grass coming up all around them. The plains' wildflowers and soft summer breezes would dim their memories of the terrible winter. Esperanza's mother stopped abruptly on the narrow path, and Esperanza bumped into her. She tossed her head, startled out of her thoughts. Almost tail Twitch, dinner Tatian. But Esperanza knew her mother wasn't really angry. She was nervous. Esperanza's mother had never in her life been the one likely to lead the herd. Every morning that they had been travelling. Alma had wait patiently for Aspen or Willow or Midnight to lead off. But they hadn't. None of them want them to the responsibility of deciding which way to go and where to stop. So Alma had done it. She was afraid-afraid of making her mistake. It wouldn't take many days without food to kill Midnight. Wolf would notice her weakness now, if Alma wasn't careful and clever at avoiding them. And the rest of them weren't much better off-they were not strong, and any predator would be able to see that. Esperanza watched her mother lift her head high, then thrust her muzzle in the air and tried to scent danger. There was no real breeze, but the sun-warmed air was flowing gently uphill. Esperanza waited, dreaming of deep grass and wide plains. Behind her, she heard midnight, tapped the ground impatiently with one back hoof. Esperanza realized that unless her mother turned, she might not be able to tell who had done it. Letting out a long, slow breath, Esperanza lowered her head-a relaxed gesture, touching her mother's hind leg lightly, just above the hock. Alma twitched her ears, so Esperanza knew she had noticed the touch. But if Alma was worried about who was impatient with her stopping so often, she did not show it. Her ears went straight back to their upright position. Esperanza stood still, listening. There were no sounds except the usual ones. And the air was empty of dangerous scents. Still, her mother did not move. Midnight ticked a hoof on the ground again. This time Aspen echoed to the sound, the mud squelching as she shifted her weight. Esperanza heard her mother let out a breath and knew that this time she had heard the sound of impatience. But she still did not move. There was a reason, Esperanza realized abruptly, pulling in a long breath. Mountain Lion. The wind carried news of lion. But the scent was pale and weak. The big cat was a long way off in the distance and time. The scent was old. Midnight gently nudged Esperanza from behind. Esperanza did not move. She couldn't- not until her mother decided it was safe. When Alma finally started forward, Midnight blew out a long breath of relief. She had not meant to be rude, Esperanza knew. They were all hungry. Esperanza stomach never stopped grinding. And they were all sick of eating bitter willow shoots. But Midnight's near-starvation over the winter was dangerously apparent. Her ribs were uneven ridges beneath her skin. The next morning is Esperanza grazed besides stand of cedar trees, pawing out patches of dried grass the melting snow had revealed. It was feeling but tasteless, and she struck at the ground with one forehoof. Her anger rose and he struck it a second time and a third. Her mother looked up sharply, then stared at her for a moment. Esperanza knew why. Her furious pawing at the dead grass had made them all look up, wondering what was wrong. It was rude to make the others think something was wrong when the only thing amiss was a hard winter and a late spring. Their own desperate grazing had been interrupted for nothing. Esperanza dropped her head to apologize, tilting her ears backward just a little to show it wasn't all her fault. She was just hungry, and she wanted more than dried, thin grass. But they all did, she knew. She was sorry she had startled the other mares. Once her mother had gone back to picking at the winter-browned grass, Esperanza shook herself. As much as she loved her mother and her mother's friends, she wished there was another horse her own age. She missed Alicia terribly. I wish it would be as impatient as she was, she was sure. They could have stood together apart from the others, restless and grumpy- and understanding each other. She loved Aspen, Willow in the especially Midnight. But they were her mother's friends. It was hard not to have a friend of her own. Esperanza shook her mane, hard, then forced herself to concentrate on nibbling patiently at the tasteless brown grass.

(Thanks to the audience that could spare time to check out the story. I will be sure to  publish the rest of the story soon! Thank you. I will put the horses' appearances )