Chapter 11
The day after she hung out at Chatties with Ty and his brothers, Jenna had a few kayak tours. A sunny Saturday was sure to
bring out all the tourists. Earlier her muscles had protested loudly as she got out of bed, but by afternoon she’d worked
out the tightness and felt energized again.
She was currently crossing the channel as she guided a private tour—Cameron and Maya, a pair of honeymooners from Tennessee.
Maya had read about the wild ponies years ago and always wanted to visit Assateague Island. Her groom had surprised her with
a honeymoon on Chincoteague. They were in their mid-twenties, wearing matching Titans caps, and so obviously in love. They
frequently traded infatuated gazes and were hardly able to keep their hands off each other, even as they paddled separate
kayaks.
As the couple’s laughter carried across the water, a prick of jealousy stabbed Jenna in the heart. She wanted that kind of
love and intimacy for herself. Wanted a lifelong commitment with a partner she could grow old with. Who didn’t?
That could’ve been you, if only you’d said yes.
Even as she chastised herself, she gave her head a shake.
That wasn’t really true, was it? She hadn’t gazed at Jason the way Maya stared at Cameron.
And Jason never would’ve planned a honeymoon to some tiny island just so she could fulfill a youthful fantasy.
He’d always wanted to go to Italy on his honeymoon and talked about their eventual trip there often.
At the time she’d been amenable to the idea. It was Italy after all.
But she’d always imagined a mountain-lodge honeymoon, just the two of them, a fire crackling in the fireplace while falling
snow spread a white blanket over the landscape. She’d never really stated her wishes, though. So she could hardly blame him
for assuming she wanted Italy too.
“Look, there’s a pony!” A huge smile spread across Maya’s face.
Jenna jerked her thoughts to the present and told them the stallion’s name, then pointed out two mares hiding among the scrub.
“They’re part of the same band—that’s what we call groups of ponies that hang together, kind of like a family.”
The trio continued paddling until they reached the marshy shoreline. Although Maya already knew a lot about the ponies, she
wanted Cameron to hear the full spiel, so Jenna happily complied. The couple listened attentively, frequently taking photos.
“Why does the fire company manage the ponies?” Cameron asked. “That seems kind of random.”
“It all started back in the 1920s after two devastating fires destroyed large sections of the island of Chincoteague. The
villagers realized they didn’t have the equipment they needed to protect the town. So they authorized the company to hold
a carnival to raise funds during Pony Penning Days—by then pony penning was already an ancient tradition. That year more than
fifteen colts were auctioned off, and the carnival was hugely successful.
“Word got around and by 1937 crowds were estimated at twenty-five thousand. The revenue from the carnival and auction afforded the fire company the modern equipment and facilities they needed. Then in 1943 the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge was established on Assateague to protect migratory birds, and the fire company was eventually able to secure grazing rights for one hundred fifty ponies.”
Maya pitched in. “Then Misty of Chincoteague was published and word about the ponies spread even farther.”
“Which brings us to today, when we can hopefully continue preserving this wild herd for future generations to enjoy.”
Before moving on toward the lighthouse, Jenna took a few shots of the couple with the ponies in the background. Next she took
them around the bay where a few more ponies grazed.
Her heart gave a soft squeeze as she caught sight of Dream. Her white coat gleamed in the afternoon sunshine. There you are. I’ve missed you, girl.
Seeing the mare brought back so many fond memories. Dad, being a captain with the fire company and a saltwater cowboy, had
engendered her love for the ponies from a young age. For as long as Jenna could remember, she’d wanted to purchase a buyback
pony.
Finally, when she was eight, Dad had encouraged her to save her money for an entire year so they could afford a buyback. Of
course she was much older by the time she realized her savings had been a drop in the bucket. Dad had gotten a promotion that
year, and he and Mom invested their hard-earned money to fulfill Jenna’s dream. He just wanted her to have some skin in the
game.
The auction was so exciting. Jenna had had her eye on the white foal because she was beautiful, and that day she took one
look in the pony’s eyes and knew she was the one. The bidding was competitive, though, and Dad had to go a little beyond what
they’d anticipated. She’d hugged him so hard when their final bid held.
Her eyes stung at the memory. Look, Daddy. She’s still here. Still so beautiful.
Just then Dream lifted her head and seemed to stare straight at Jenna. She felt it right in the middle of her chest. Could hardly breathe for a few seconds.
“Ooh, that one’s all white,” Maya said. “She’s so pretty.”
Jenna swallowed against the lump in her throat. “That’s Dream. She’s eighteen so she’s getting up in years. The average life
span of the ponies is twenty to thirty years, slightly less than domestic horses. But because of the fire company’s care,
they live longer in the harsh environment than they otherwise would.”
“She’s so unique.”
“She is.” And then, because Jenna felt comfortable with the couple, she added, “But Dream is extra special to me because my
dad and I bought her seventeen years ago as a buyback.”
Maya beamed. “Aw, and you got to name her.”
“Her full name is Jenna’s Dream, but mostly she just goes by Dream. She’s actually a descendant of Misty.”
“That’s very cool,” Cameron said.
Jenna didn’t mention that her dad had passed. She didn’t want pity marring the poignant moment. While the couple occupied
themselves taking photos of the grazing ponies, Jenna just rested in her kayak, the warm breeze skating over her skin, watching
Dream and remembering her dad.