Clayton McMillen
The sunlight glinted off his tanned skin, covered in a light sheen of sweat, as he took a deep drink from his water bottle. His dark hair stuck to the back of his neck and forehead from the sweat, his shirt had been discarded somewhere about a half mile back. A cool wind swept over the flat land and Clayton closed his eyes, taking more pleasure in a simple wind than he ever had. It cooled his hot skin and ruffled his hair.
"What the fuck man?" Kevin shouted. Clayton opened his eyes, the green irises deepening color in annoyance. "I want to finish."
"That won't happen any faster if I keel over and die from dehydration," Clayton pointed out, his voice barely containing his irritation. Kevin had been like this since they'd been sent out two hours before. They still had an hour until lunch and a break. Clayton wanted to be done as well, but he didn't want to kill himself finishing. Kevin, however, didn't seem to care if he died. In fact, from what Clayton had observed, it appeared he rather wanted to die.
"Frankly, I don't care if you keel over and die," Kevin snapped back. "Just finish your part of the damn fence first." Clayton laughed and gave the other boy a mock military salute.
"Yes sir!"
"Don't be a smartass." Clayton gave Kevin a sardonic smile.
"But it comes so naturally to me," he said in an "innocent" voice.
"Ha. Ha," Kevin answered acerbically.
"I thought it was amusing." Kevin threw a wood post at Clayton which he caught easily with one hand.
"Get the hell back to work."
Amber Manett
An hour later and she was still standing in front of the first stall, literally shaking in her boots. The stables held six horses, each in its own rather large stall. They had room to walk around a little, but Amber would still have to exercise each one. As well as much out each stable, lay down fresh hay, change water, feed the horses brush them down and clean out their hoofs. All of which frightened her to the point of paralysis, hence her standing in front of a stall, shaking and staring at the first horse.
Amber still thought horses were beautiful. This one, particularly. He looked almost exactly like her old horse. He was about 16 hands high, a sleek American Paint with a tan and white coat, tan mane and tail, and a proud hold of his head. He looked down at Amber with wide brown eyes that seemed friendly, but Candy had been her horse for three years when she'd thrown her owner.
"His name is Cookie Dough, Cookie for short." Amber turned around to see Dr. Ruby Stewart standing behind her, a small smile playing on her lips. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, she wore no makeup and was dressed simply in a pair of jeans tucked into a pair of tan riding boots and light pink v-neck tee-shirt. For the first time, Amber really looked at the Mrs. Dr. Stewart. She was about forty with a pretty, open face devoid of lines, her cheekbones were very prominent, her mouth- always turned into a slight smile- wide and slightly thin, and she had blue eyes that held an uncommon warmth.
"D- Dr. St- Stewart," Amber stuttered out. The older woman smiled a bit wider, revealing perfect teeth.
"Ruby," she corrected Amber.
"Ru- Ruby. Right." A silence that felt incredibly awkward on Amber's part ensued. "Um, Cookie Dough?" she asked finally, just searching for something, anything to say.
"He does look like a white-chocolate-chip cookie, does he not?" Ruby laughed. Amber nodded. The doctor stepped forward, a couple sugar cubes in her hand. "Here, he adores sugar." What horse doesn't? Amber wondered in a rather sarcastic tone. She should have thought of that. And apple pieces, they loved apples as well.
