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her of her childhood blanket. The blue one with the
satin edges that she never let out of her sight. The
blanket that calmed her bad dreams on stormy nights.
The blanket she still kept in the hope chest at the foot of
her bed, waiting for the day when she would give it to
her own child.

****
Gillian caught her breathing and let go a few tears
as she remembered the blanket... the one that was her
comfort... the one she left with Eryn in Kremmling. She
could no longer find comfort in even simple things now
that such a large part of her soul had perished. "Oh
Thomas..." she whispered, sipping her tea for courage.

Achilles heard her pain and curled up next to her,
his warm body lending strength to her twitching legs.
She stroked his soft ears, whispered "Thank you," and
turned the page in her sketchbook.

****

Soft and warm, the great animal brought her
tremendous tranquility. She padded silently barefoot
through the gate, pulling a halter and bareback pad
from their hooks on the barn wall and approached her
mount. The sheep, goats, and other animals in the
barnyard paid her no heed, continuing their sleep
without so much as the twitch of an eyelid. Karyn and
Spirit were the only creatures awake at this hour of the
night. It was as though a secret spell had been cast to
allow her this precious time to be completely alone.

Spirit offered no struggle as she gently slipped the
bridle over his head, tossed the reins about his neck, and
laid the bareback pad across his withers. Then, almost

Diana Kathryn Plopa 13 A Tryst of Fate