Read the excerpt from The Land. "Whoa there, Wind," I said softly as I tried to get near the stallion. "It's me, boy. It's Paul." I extended my hand slowly. "Let me take a look at you now. It’s all right. It's all right." The stallion pulled back at first. I kept talking, and he finally allowed me to touch him. He whinnied just a bit, and I patted him gingerly, trying to make him know me; then, when he was still, I took a closer look at his leg. There was a bad tear along his right foreleg, and there were scratches from the branches that had ripped along his sleek white coat. The scratches I knew would heal, but I wasn't sure about the leg. The way Ghost Wind had pulled back, I feared a ligament might be torn or even his leg fractured. "He all right?" asked Mitchell, on his feet now. Without looking at him, I shook my head. "Don't know. We got to get him back to the barn." "Your daddy's gonna kill me," he said solemnly, yet with no fear in his voice, just a voice of matter of fact.