Chapter One
Rosemary set the box down and picked up her pen, beginning to write. Maybe writing letters was a tad old-fashioned nowadays, but Rose loved the gliding of the pen across the page.
Dear Mr. J. Brown,
I have recently bought a house from you, although we have never met. I’d like to tell you that your agent was very helpful throughout the purchase and that the house itself is very nice. I find myself at home here as I’ve never felt elsewhere.
But my main reason to write to you is this: I found a locked box in the attic that I believe may belong to you. Now, as curious as I am to what may be inside the box, I don’t think it would do for me to open it, and it would not be right for me to do anything but send it to you. That being said, is this still the right address to mail such an item to you? I would hate to send it to the wrong person.
I await your response,
Rosemary Parks
“There, that should do,” Rosemary said to herself as she folded up the paper and stuffed it into an envelope. Her long brown hair fell over her shoulder as she picked up her riding bag and stepped outside. The barn was a 30-minute walk from her house, and it was usually Rose’s exercise for the day. She enjoyed the walk, and now was a good time to take it for two reasons: Number one, she had writer’s block, and number two, the mailbox was along the way.
She made her way off of the street and followed the forest path for a bit before turning onto the drive of the barn she boarded at, Misty Hollows. Her old pony Gracie and Blu the colt called to her from the pasture as she stepped into the barn and over to her locker. Pulling off her walking shoes, she shoved her feet into her riding boots, tying her long hair back into a braid. Grabbing Blu’s halter and two carrots, she stepped back out towards the pasture.
Blu trotted over to her, and the pony walked behind. Other horses raised their heads to acknowledge her presence as she stroked Gracie’s weathered cheek, slipping her a carrot. “hey sweet girl,” She said, smiling as her childhood pony nickered to her, “one of these days we’ll have to go for a walk, won’t we?” The mare shook her grey mane as Blu nudged the pair, eager for his carrot. She gave it to him as she slipped on his blue (what else?) halter and led him out of the pasture. Gracie whinnied once as her young charge left and then fell to eating.
Sunny
