by Sisco's Gal
On a little island just off the coast of Nova Scotia, a girl with black hair flying in the sea breeze sat perched high on the top of a cliff. Three years ago, the 13-year old, Dakota Townsend, had moved to Nova Scotia from Alberta. She had inherited the island from her parents, who both died when she was 7.
The first day, she had ridden her horse up a trail to a place on the edge of the cliff. At first it had made her giddy to look down but now she was quite used to it.
Another thing was different from her first ride up here--the first time she came, she rode a horse. But now her horse was sold.
Dakota lived with her Aunt, and the instant she arrived--with her horse, her Aunt insisted upon it being sold. The horse had been a gorgeous dapple grey Arabian called Pebbles, a gelding. But now he was gone. Just thinking about him now made her cry.
No time to cry now. Soon it would be time to take her kayak back to the mainland. Thank goodness her Aunt had even let her come to the island in the first place.
The island, christened Seagull Island for its many seagulls, had a sandy beach, an old farmstead which was pretty much gone by now, and a path winding steeply upward through trees from the old farm house.
At the top, there was a little clearing and then a sheer drop to the other sandy, rocky side of the island. On the side with the farm, Dakota's bright green kayak, christened Seagull's Cry
would be lying on the beach.
Before she left, Dakota had to have one more good look at her island. She pulled her binoculars from her backpack and put them to her eyes. She swept Seagull Island with them, taking in all the quiet beauty. Then she gasped. There, swimming from a nearby island to her own, was a horse. She leaned forward, taking care not to topple off the cliff's edge, her binoculars glued to her eyes.
Dakota watched as he pulled himself out of the water onto the beach. Whatever was he doing out here on her island?
She focused the binoculars on him. He was dapple grey, of what breed she could not be too sure. He could have been her horse, the one she sold three years ago.
Dakota glanced at her watch. It was past time to go. She took one last, long look at the horse. "I'll catch you, buddy," she whispered. "Or at least figure out who you are."Well, that's good for now. Do you want Chapter 2? I hope to finish this book.