Chapter Eight
Jackson
I leaned against the fence, watching as the horses trotted from the paddock by the barn toward the far corner in the pasture. Mischief had spent the night out there because that was usually his preference. He lifted his head, nickering softly as the rest of the horses approached him.
We were one of the few rescue programs that took horses in the area. Ash wanted to keep them all, but then she would keep every rescue that landed with us. I occasionally needed to point out that if we kept every animal we rescued, we would eventually be at capacity.
We tended to keep the ones she was most in love with, and those who fit in easily. Although Mischief could be considered a troublemaker, he was a good-natured gelding and got along well with all of the other horses. His m
