Gabriel's Horses by Alison Hart

eyes.
    I flop down on the feed sacks. I want to cry, but the tears don’t come. All I can think is
Why didn’t he say goodbye?
    Jackson pulls a piece of taffy from the bag and hands it to me. “Your pa is a brave man, Gabriel. Only he ain’t brave enough to bear your sorrow. That’s why he didn’t say goodbye. Your ma ’bout broke his heart with her weeping.”
    â€œBut Jackson, that ain’t fair.
I
didn’t get to tell him goodbye!” I push the taffy away. Hot tears stream down my cheeks. “What if I never see him again? What if a Rebel shoots him dead?”
    â€œOh, you’ll see him again. I’ll make sure of it. I ’spect he’s going to Camp Nelson for training before the army lets him loose on those Rebels. The camp’s a long walk, but I’ll take you there one day.”
    â€œPromise?” I dry my cheeks on my sleeve.
    â€œPromise.”
    The promise makes me feel a speck better. “But, Jackson, why’d he leave me and Ma? Why’d he enlist?”
    Jackson shrugs. Pulling his cap over his eyes, he slides down on the feed sacks. “He’s got reasons. Your ma will tell you.”
    I blow out my breath.
Pa’s in the army.
I picture the colored soldiers standing up to those white men, and pride slowly replaces my sorrow. Sure, I’m plum mad Pa didn’t say goodbye, but next time I see him, he’ll be wearing blue and fighting for freedom.
    Suddenly exhaustion hits me, and my eyes drift shut. Beside me, Jackson begins to snore. Curling up on the sacks, I dream about my first trip to Lexington: One Arm, city streets, Union soldiers, licorice twists, Pa enlisting.
    Then I dream about the wind on my cheeks as Tenpenny and I race down the homestretch and cross the finish line. Ma will be so proud of me that her sadness about Pa will wash away.
    ***
    It’s night by the time we arrive home, and I finish bedding down Tenpenny. I can barely put one foot in front of the other, but I finally make it back to our cabin. After the city, it seems tiny. Our home ain’t fancy like a Lexington hotel, but Pa’s job as trainer affords us better quarters than the field hands. We’ve two rooms and our own privy. Ma and Pa have a feather-stuffed mattress, and I have a bed to myself.
    Ma lights a candle, and shadows dance on the whitewashed plank walls. She sits me down on a stool in the bedroom and smoothes ointment on my blistered hands. She cocks her head, listening closely as I tell the tale of my trip.
    â€œOne Arm and his raiders had his sights on Penny, Ma, but I was fixing to get away.” My voice rises. “There’s no way I’d let a renegade take my horse.”
    Ma glances worriedly at the cabin’s shut door. “Hush now. Don’t talk of One Arm. News has it that this morning he passed Woodville by. Next time the farm might not be so lucky.”
    â€œNext time One Arm might not be so lucky. He might come face to face with a colored soldier like Pa. You should have seen those white men at the racetrack turn tail and run from Private Campbell and Corporal Blue.” I shake my head. “I never thought I’d see the day. I can’t wait until I enlist and fight alongside Pa.”
    â€œOh, no. Don’t
you
be getting any bold ideas.” Ma wraps a strip of clean rag round my palm and knots it. “Your pa leaving is hard enough.”
    â€œNo ma’am. I ain’t ready yet. But I reckon I will one day soon. First I gotta win some more races. Might be by that time Pa will have stripes like Corporal Blue. And he’ll have his own company. You’ll be so proud.”
    Ma sighs like proud ain’t what she’s thinking about. She picks up my other hand. “I just pray your pa stays safe. Now, tell me ’bout the race.”
    Happily, I tell her the whole story, from the time Jackson pretended to hurt his arm to the end. “When I spied that grandstand, I