The crowd thought the boy in the wheelchair was helpless-until the wild mustang lowered his head to his boots

from somewhere to his left. “There you are.”

For the next four days, Jonah returned before the fairgrounds filled with noise.

He learned the shape of Cinder’s fear. The  horse hated narrow openings. He hated flags. He hated men approaching in pairs. He could tolerate Walt if the trainer kept his body turned sideways and his hands low. He could tolerate continue reading …