Thorn's Thunder

By Whitney Anruth and Joe Eckstein

Saddling up and riding their many trails with his four friends for races, hide and seek, camping, and participating in the Junior Horsemanship Competition at the county fair is Thorn's dream. In reality, the family farm has neither income nor animals since the fever took the herd two years ago. Then the sher

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Arrow Publishing
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798985128819

Whitney Anruth

Whitney Anruth was born in southern Michigan. After the war years in Ohio, the family moved to the Finger Lakes Region of New York State. After graduating from college, she began teaching junior high school in a large centralized district near Niagara Falls; where she met her scuba instructor husband, alias telephone repairman. When her husband was transferred to the southern tier region of the state she became an elementary teacher. With their two children they've camped, boated, and traveled to many areas of the country. The ultimate goal was recently reached when they finally visited all the Lower 48 states. She also enjoys reading and photographing things that might have future story potential. Retirement now allows Whitney time to complete the many outlined stories and articles she has and create many more from the warmer climes of the country. Her first magazine publication was an article in Highlights for Children (February 1986). She has written for the local newspaper while teaching safe boating classes with the Coast Guard Auxiliary. In the summer of 2017 the publication of her first book, Sweet Tree Water began her book writing dream.

Book preview

Chapter 1

MORNING ON THE THOMPSON farm meant the chores were done, breakfast was over, and Martin Thompson was leaving for work. His son followed him out the back door.

"Dad, I still want a horse.’ Thornton Benjamin Thompson, age eleven, faced his father over the hood of the pickup parked beside the two-story farmhouse.

You know I do. Will it ever be possible?

Martin Thompson’s hand froze on the door handle. He drew a breath and turned to face his son. Son, I know. I would love to get you one. We can’t afford a horse at this time. After we lost the herd two years ago, there just hasn’t been enough money for one. I’ve told you that. Horses cost money to keep.

But I’ve money. I have saved over $100. The box stall in the barn is not used. It would make a great stall for a horse with the water trough just outside in the corral.

It’s not enough. There’s the cost of food, vet bills, shoes, not to mention all the things needed to outfit a horse so you can ride, plus the things to take care of it.

But we’ve lots of that left over from the herd, Thorn pointed to the large two story barn. There’s a whole cupboard full.

I know and I should have thrown all that out when we disinfected the barn, but I just haven’t gotten around to it. Most of it is not for use on horses. The hay that’s left isn’t fit for animals to eat.

Thorn thought of his four friends who all had horses. Sure a couple of them were girls, but still Rosie and Vicki were nice and so were their horses, Bonnie and Violet. Daryl had a roan named Rusty. Bruce was always ready to share Chubby with him and sometimes let him ride by himself while he doubled up with Daryl. They rode as often as they could, went camping, played hide and seek, and ran the trails they had marked through the surrounding woods. They were going today. His stuff was ready.

But it’s not fair. I’m the only one without a horse. If I want to go, I have to double up with Bruce. I know he says he doesn’t mind, but we can’t do all the things we want. The others say they don’t mind but I do. We can’t all play hide and seek at the same time, have races or anything but just mosey along because Bruce and I are riding double. We can’t even be in the Fair’s Final Day Parade together.

Martin Thompson sighed. I understand all that. There just isn’t enough money right now. This year’s crop should cover the rest of the losses from the fever that took the herd. Next year’s crop will bring in enough to start another. I know you want a horse, but we just can’t afford it.

If you get me a horse I’ll be able to go after the strays.

Thorn, we’ve been over and over this. I know you want a horse; I would love to get you one. But it just isn’t possible. Now, I’ve got to go or I’ll be late for work. He opened the door of the pickup, slid behind the wheel, started the engine and drove off down the lane to the road.

E. E. Miller & Sons Feed Mill and Store had stood at the end of Canal Street for fifty years. It was the place where farmers, gardeners, dairymen, and nurserymen found the items they needed. It was there they exchanged information on the latest products, events, and solutions to their problems. It was there Deputy Collins and owner, Seth Miller, after a lengthy conversation, approached Martin Thompson.

Sir, the deputy shook his hand. I’m hoping you can help us with a serious problem. You know, Sam Hartman, the old man who lives on Packard Road?

Martin Thompson nodded. Sam Hartman was in his late 70’s. He lived quietly, even more so now that his grandson had finished high school last year and joined the army.

"Well, sir, Ted Larson, the mail carrier, noticed the mail piled up in his box and called us. We did a Wellness check and found him on the kitchen floor. He’s had a stroke. We got him to the hospital, and the SPCA came for the dog and cat. They are now in foster homes until Mr. Hartman recovers. But this morning we learned we overlooked something. It seems Mr. Hartman’s grandson didn’t sell his horse after all, and we didn’t check the barn when we locked up the place.

"Lem Fleming, the farrier called. He was supposed to reset the horse’s shoes some time ago but Mr. Hartman hadn’t called. When he dropped by and saw our notice on the door, he called and asked about the horse. To make the story short, we found the horse, but he’s in sad shape. We don’t want to put him down, but we need a place for him. The SPCA has no facilities for horses. Our own horse barn is being remodeled. We have nowhere to isolate him, and according to the vet, the horse has to go where there are no other animals. There have to be certain tests performed to make certain the horse has developed nothing harmful to other stock.

The grandson has been deployed overseas. We’re stuck. According to Mr. Miller, you are the only one with a farm and no animals. We know you had to get rid of your herd and this is a tough time for you, but the horse can’t stay where he is. We have to find a place for him or put him down. The horse needs care. Would you make space for him in your barn? At least until we can make other arrangements?

Martin Thompson closed his eyes. In his head he heard the arguments his son had made and repeated just this morning. It would be temporary, but Thorn would be crushed when the animal left.

Martin eyed the deputy. For how long do you think?

We don’t know. We’ve contacted the army to get hold of the grandson. But the horse must be moved now. Deputy Jenson has gone to pick up one of our horse trailers to get the horse. We’ll deliver.

I have nothing to care for a horse.

Deputy Collins nodded. I’ll slip over to the Hartman place and check out the barn while Jenson loads the horse. I’ll bring everything I can find. Doc Carling said he’ll check out the horse, but can’t make it until tomorrow. We’ll handle those costs.

Seth Miller turned to Martin. "Go through the boxes of dented stuff for cans of saddle soap, neat’s foot oil, and there’s a can of insect spray missing its top. There’re two split bags of mash and