"It's better. Both of them going," Kate says in a quiet tone that hints she maybe knows a little too much about getting left behind. "For them, anyway. Not him."

She rubs her fingers down his shoulder, petting him and learning about the horses the way she's supposed to from working in the stables. He feels solid under her fingers, real, and the dry straw, crunching under her heel when she steps back, gives up a golden warm smell that isn't familiar to Kate and sometimes it makes her feel a little panicky. She's more familiar with the dank, wet, dirty smells of the the city, but today it's a comfort.

"I don't know much about them. Do they get attached, like dogs?" If he was mourning like Bonny, that would break her heart.