Macawi

Closest to me were at least four stallions: two looked to be Arabians, one Appaloosa, one Palomino. The others were a mix of Pintos, Quarterhorses and even a Mustang from what I could see. One however, at the very back, caught my full attention. If there was a horse more beautiful in a wild way than Zonta, this horse was it. Walking to the last stable, I stared at her and the blue-black sheen of her coat. With a black mane, tail and legs—well, from knee to the pastern at least—she was magnificent.

"Who's this?" I asked Dakotah, too entranced to tear my gaze away.

Dakotah chuckled, his previous demeanor now gone. "That is Macawi. It means 'Generous' in some native languages. It varies depending on the tribe. She's a pure-bred Blue Roan Arabian mare, she's the same age as Zonta. Four years old."

"Wow." Looking at her, "Are you sure I can choose?"

For some reason, I could tell Dakotah was smiling, as if I had made the right choice. "Yes, I'm sure. Please, go ahead."

"Macawi it is." Tearing my gaze away from the mare, I look back at Dakotah. "She's perfect."

"I'd thought you'd say that." He replied, somehow managing to obtain a piece of paper and a permanent marker. He wrote something on it and put it into the cardholder on Macawi's stable door. It had my name, date and Dakotah as the person making the transaction. Understanding what he had done for me, what he had risked personally, "Thank you, truly." As soon as the words departed my lips, I knew they weren't enough for his actions.

Dakotah put the marker back into his pocket. "It was an honor really. You haven't been here long, but I feel like I've known you a long time."

Now that Dakotah mentioned it, our new relationship did feel that way. Like I'd met him when I was younger… Before I could put my finger on it though, Dakotah grabbed my hand again and led the way out. My new life beginning to look as bright as the sheen on Macawi's coat.