One morning there was no Mattie Jane at the window when it was time for Martha to bring my apples.
No apples! No Mattie Jane!
I pawed at the ground, and whinnied. I wanted my Mattie Jane! I wanted my apples too.
Suddenly the kitchen door opened. There was Mattie Jane, with Martha’s arm around her, helping her stand up.
Mattie Jane seemed smaller. She wore a shawl, although the day was warm. But she gazed up at the clouds wandering through the sky, and out at the trees on the hills. She smiled at me as her sister helped her slowly across the courtyard to my paddock.
I had my head over the fence to meet her. She broke from Martha then and put her arms around my neck. I stood still. She felt so frail I was afraid she might fall if I swished my tail. So even though I could smell apples in the bucket Martha carried I didn’t move my head.
At last Mattie stood back. She picked up an apple and held it out to me on the flat of her hand. I crunched it, then another and another, till the bucket was empty.
Mattie Jane’s hand shook as she gave me the last apples.
‘Back to bed. Now,’ said Martha.
Mattie nodded. Suddenly she began to cough, a deep hard cough that shook her body.
Martha held her as she coughed. She yelled, ‘Elijah!’
Elijah ran from the courtyard where he had been chopping wood. He lifted Mattie into his arms.
Mattie no longer coughed now, but her voice was hoarse and low. ‘I’m getting better, Rebel Yell. I really am. I’ll come again tomorrow.’
Martha shook her head. ‘You’ll do no such thing.’
‘The sun is good for me. The fresh air. I’m sure it is.’
‘We’ll see.’
I stood by the gate as Elijah carried my Mattie Jane back inside. I kept standing there till I saw her face smile at me from the window. I waited till she vanished again, then trotted down to the creek to drink.
She didn’t come the next day, but she did the day after that. She walked by herself this time, slowly, though Martha walked close behind. She had just a few apples in her pinafore and not a heavy bucket.
I whinnied, and nudged her with my nose, to tell her I was happy. Happy to see her and smell her and feel her hands. Having my Mattie Jane was even better than the apples.
But then I ate them, crunching them one by one. An apple is an apple, and besides, it made Mattie Jane smile to see me eat. Martha smiled too, to see her joy.
It was so good to have her back. The mistress was gone. The master ignored me now. But I had my Mattie Jane.