AN: Short fic about Dallas's thoughts on growing old. Sort of angsty :P I wrote this really quick, so I don't know if Dallas is in character or not. You could tell me if I'm wrong (or right) in this lovely invention called a review :D
Disclaimer: Terri Farley is the mastermind. I just mess with her characters.
The ranch yard was empty when Dallas returned. A lonely feeling settled beneath his breastbone at the sight. Wyatt, Ross, and Pepper were still out checking the cattle, Brynna was at work, Grace was at a cooking class in Darton, and Sam was at school. Everyone had something to do. Everyone except him.
Dallas could almost hear his bones creak as he hefted himself out of the saddle. He didn't ride much anymore, but for some reason he just couldn't keep away for too long. Stubborn cowboy pride, he guessed, rubbing his stiff arthritic hand.
The foreman pulled his Stetson lower on his brow to combat the glare of the afternoon sun as he led Strawberry to the barn. The usually feisty mare followed sedately, aware that Dallas wasn't one to stand for any funny business. Slowly, he untacked the mare and cooled her down. He'd untacked so many horses in his long life that he could've done it in his sleep.
As soon as he finished, he sent Strawberry into the ten-acre pasture with a firm pat. The mare immediately kicked out her heels in an exuberant buck, and Dallas found himself smiling in spite of his mood. He might be getting more useless every day, but at least he wasn't stuck in some kind of old folks' home where he couldn't see the Nevada sky or be around the animals he had devoted his life to. At least he still had that.
A low nicker interrupted his thoughts, and Dallas recognized the sound even before he turned and saw the old bay cowpony waiting at the fence. "Amigo."
He stretched out a hand to the horse. Amigo's grizzled muzzle whispered over Dallas's palm, lipping the toughened fingers. Dallas's smile widened. Just standing with the horse he had gone through so much with made him feel young again. Taking a deep breath, he climbed up over the fence into the pasture.
Amigo bobbed his head as he approached, and despite his skeptical nature, Dallas could almost hear the horse asking him, What took you so long? He smoothed a hand across Amigo's shoulder, feeling the muscle beneath, hardly diminished. With a heavy sigh, the big horse leaned into Dallas and closed his eyes. The foreman braced himself, taking a little of his old friend's weight. He squinted around the yard for Sam. It wouldn't do for her to suddenly get home from school and see him now, considering how many times he got on her for treating horses like people.
"Your bones ache too, don't they, old boy?" He murmured. He reached up and scratched the gelding high up on his neck, just where the bay liked it. After a minute, Dallas felt Amigo move slightly and knew he was looking out over the range. The melancholy feeling Dallas had been experiencing all day trickled back. He and Amigo had a lot in common. Both were toughened by a lifetime of hard work, but too old now to continue the work they were born and bred for. He sighed, but a wry grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Ah, it's alright, boy. We're just two sentimental old fools. We'll feel better tomorrow."
They stood like that for a long time, the old cowboy and his horse.