Excerpt from The Driest Season by Meghan Kenny, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

He stopped at the barn to get halters and lead ropes, and Cielle waited outside for him. She heard him talk inside the barn, and then he came out.

"Thought I had you behind me still," he said. "I was talking to air." He handed her a red halter and lead and said, "You can bring in Ginger."

Ginger was the sorrel mare Cielle loved to ride. She clipped the lead rope to the halter and swung it over her shoulder. Mr. Mitchell held open the metal gate and closed it behind her.

"I almost forgot," he said, and handed Cielle a carrot from his front pocket. He kicked a clod of dirt and it broke into a fine dust. "One of the driest years on record."

The pasture was bumpy and rocky and could twist an ankle easily. The air was warm and carried the smell of sweet grass up from the swale that dipped down to a still body of water and a stand of trees where Ginger stood. Her tail slapped at flies and her withers quivered. The ticking of grasshoppers and cicadas was all around. A sound that reminded Cielle of her mother starting the gas oven. The sound of fire.

Cielle walked down the hill and watched her step. Buttercups and clover bloomed bright and low to the ground. She bent and picked a buttercup and held it to her chin, but forgot the reason why you did that. Her father knew. She smelled honeysuckle as she neared the trees, and the air cooled, like a cold pocket of water in a lake.

"Here, Ginger," she said, and came up on the left side of the mare. "Here I am, girl."

Mosquitoes swarmed by the water and buzzed around her head. Cielle ran her hand down Ginger's neck, which felt soft and firm, and she thought of the blood charging beneath.

"I love you, Ginger," she said, and petted her hard. "You're so good."

She put her cheek to Ginger's neck and felt tightness rising in her chest, tightness moving up into her throat, and then her throat gone itchy and salty, her cheek muscles pulling back, and her eyes filling up, her eyes wet.

"I love you so much," she said, and held the carrot out in the palm of her hand.

Ginger raised her head and took the carrot, and Cielle's arms shook as she adjusted the halter. Cielle led her up the hill toward the gate, toward Mr. Mitchell and the barn, where she would walk Ginger into her stall, slip off her halter, and let her lie down in darkness.

Excerpted from The Driest Season by Meghan Kenny. Copyright © 2018 by Meghan Kenny. With permission of the publisher, W. W. Norton & Company, Inc. All rights reserved.