The Appaloosa

by Joegal

To gain new experiences, Joe leaves the ranch for one summer.

Summary: To gain new experiences, Joe leaves the ranch for one summer.

Rating: G Word count: 15300

The Appaloosa

Loud whinnies, more like screams, and harsh curses sent me running. A cowboy had cornered a pinto stallion in the corral behind the Carson City Livery Stable, trying to throw a lasso over his neck. The animal waited until the rope came flying. Then, with a tiny twitch of his head, it swerved. The man had beads of sweat on his forehead, and his movements were frantic. Several viewers stood leaning against the fence, smirking as they watched the spectacle.

"If that were my horse, I'd shoot him," one of the cowboys uttered, the mocking in his voice undeniable.

"Yeah, he's making a fool of you!"

"Damn it!" cursed the man in the coral as the lasso slipped off the stallion's shoulder again. "You may be right. So far, I've had nothing but trouble with this critter. Phil, can I borrow your gun?"

"Sure." The cowboy, his forearms resting on the railings, pulled out his pistol.

I love horses and couldn't bear to see them suffer.

Although he was a pinto, like Cochise, this one wasn't pretty. His brown-white coat was grey with dust and mud in places, his tail was shaggy, and his mane hung in tangled strands across his forehead. But his eyes were alert and intelligent. I could see the fire in them, betraying his temperament.

"Wait a minute, sir! Is that pony for sale?"

The man`s gaze swept over my well-crafted holster, ivory-handled pistol, and beige jacket. Stroking his bushy mustache, he narrowed his eyes. I knew that look when people try to get as much money from you as possible.

"One hundred and fifty bucks, boy, and it's yours."

"One hundred and fifty? You can't be serious! You were about to shoot it!"

"Yeah, but if you want to buy the stallion, he'll cost you that much."

"He's not even broken in yet, is he?"

"No, son, but he's an excellent cowpony. You won't find a better horse anywhere. He's well-built, too. See his strong legs and low chest? You won't believe how fast he can run."

"The way I see it, he can't run right now. He spares his right front leg."

"Just a stone bruise. It happened on the way into town."

"Fifty in cash."

"One hundred dollars and not a dime less. Take it or leave it, boy."

Exasperated, I blew out the air. "All right, we have a deal. But I'm short on money. I need toget it first."

"Okay. You've got an hour. If you're not back by then ..."

"I'll be back!"

Our buckboard team and Cochise were tethered in front of the saloon.

"Joe, where've you been? We've been waiting for you." Adam said as he walked out of the swing doors, followed by Hoss. The beer refreshed both of them. There was no more sign of their sweaty faces and tight mouths after we had put that massive load of straw onto our wagon. A relaxed Adam would benefit my plans.

"Yeah, little brother, we wondered why you missed a beer. Adam and I made a bet. I said it was a horse. Adam guessed a girl."

I rolled my eyes. "You won, Hoss."

A broad grin spread across my brother's face. "Hey, you owe me one!"

"But not yet. We got to get home. Pa's expecting us back in time for supper!"

"Adam, wait a minute. Can you loan me some money?"

"For ...?"

"For a horse."

"You want to buy a horse? We've got a stable full at home."

"This one is special. He's a little wild but well-built. We could use him for breeding! He has good legs and muscles." I hated the knowing looks my brothers exchanged. Sometimes, I felt that Adam disagreed with my ideas on principle. My excitement turned to anger. "What's wrong? You don't take me seriously, do you?"

"Calm down, Joe. You don't have to get loud. We know you have a good eye for horseflesh. How much will it cost?"

"Um, a hundred dollars."

"One hundred bucks? You can get a couple of good, broken-in cow ponies for that money!"

"Come on, Adam. You can see how excited Joe is. Can't hurt to check out the horse, can it?"

Adam exhaled. "Okay. Let's take a look."

"So what do you think of him?" I crossed my legs and rested my elbow on one of the slats, trying not to fidget.

Adam circled the pinto, head tilted, rubbing the corners of his mouth. "I have to admit, Joe, you're right. He's got good withers, and his legs are nice and straight." The pony watched him with its ears laid back in suspicion and whipped its tail.

It was hard to tell if my brother shared my excitement. "Yeah, and did you notice the strong, high-set neck? And the back? The horse is mobile yet comfortable to ride."

Adam eyed the salesman, observing us with amusement, with his hands on his hips.

"Mister, I offer you forty dollars for the horse."

The man shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Sorry. I made a deal with the boy for one hundred. You can buy him for the price or not."

"Final word?"

"Yeah. If you don't take him, I'll shoot him."

Hoss gasped. "Shoot him? Why?"

"He`s too wild. He only gives me trouble and costs my boss money. I work for Mr. Delaney up at the Double D Ranch. He told me not to return him if a buyer didn't take him today. People prefer more subtle colors anyway. These pinto horses aren't top-rated."

"Adam, please!"

"No. Pa won't approve of spending so much on a cow pony. You know we need every cent right now. The winter's been hard, we've lost many cattle, and—"

"Spare me the lecture. Investing in horse breeding would be worth it in the long run."

"You'll have to pay with your own money if you want that one." My brother's tone told me he wasn't willing to discuss it. Adam knew that I was always broke and couldn't spend that much. "Come on, let's go home." My brothers turned away—Hoss with an apologetic shrug—and walked toward our pulled-up wagon.

"I'll be with you in a minute!"

I turned to the man, who took a drink from a flat bottle. "Sir, I want to buy the horse. I'll give you a down payment." I fumbled in my jacket pocket and pulled out some crumpled greenbacks. "I've got twenty-two dollars."

"Boy, that's not enough! I'm sorry!" Fletcher snapped the .45's drum open.

"Can I work it off? Maybe Mr. Delaney needs a bronc buster? I'm good at it!"

"No, not at the moment. Now, get out of here."

"You'd rather shoot the horse than sell it to me?"

Fletcher shrugged and cocked his gun. I knew we were done talking. Hands balled into fists, I turned away. The shot made me cringe, but I avoided looking back. Sometimes, I couldn`t stand my eldest brother.

On the way home, there was an awkward silence between us. Hoss tried to lighten the tension with jokes, but Adam's clenched jaw told me he was annoyed with me. Sighing, I let Cochise fall back behind the wagon.

The last couple of weeks on the ranch hadn't been easy for us. It felt like everyone was in a bad mood, which they often took out on me, but Pa would say it was just my imagination. I understood that our father was worried about the Ponderosa's financial situation. The calves were weak this spring, and a mountain lion had killed some of them. Also, the shed with our straw supply had burned down, which was the reason for our trip to Carson City.

Pa sat at his desk for hours, chewing on the end of his pencil and crunching numbers as if adding them would improve the outcome. On top of that, one of our rivals had underbid our offer to supply lumber to the Sun Mining Company, and Pa had counted on getting the contract.

The atmosphere at dinner was strained. Pa poked at his plate, and Adam cut his steak with quiet determination. Hoss looked unhappy, even though he was about to shove a piece of meat into his mouth.

"I've been doing the math repeatedly, boys," our father said, pushing the half-full dish away. "We have to lay off some ranchhands. We'll keep only enough for the cattle drive to Sacramento."

An idea flashed through my mind. "I'll go!"

"What? What do you mean, Joseph, you'll go?" Pa's brow furrowed. Hoss' mouth hung open, and Adam leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not forever. I mean instead of firing a ranchhand, I could leave for a while. It would only be for the summer."

"It's over the horse, isn't it? You're mad we didn't buy it." Adam said, one corner of his mouth twisted in mockery. "Is this a defiant reaction from you?"

"No! Today, I realized I'd like more responsibility. Nobody takes me seriously around here. I'm just Little Joe Cartwright to everyone, the boss's boy!"

"Son, you know you're exaggerating. Surely ..."

"No. Let me finish. I see the way the hired hands look at me when I give them an order. It would only be for a few weeks. I may work as a bronc buster. It pays well. I want to learn new places and see how things are done elsewhere."

Adam leaned forward, his hands flat on the table. "It's childish to run away because you don't like something. Do you try to punish us?"

"No! I just want to see something different, make my own decision, and—"

"No one will be there to bail you out."

My clenched fist grabbed the napkin and crumpled it into a tight ball. "I'm grown up! When is that going to get through your thick skull? I don't need a babysitter anymore!"

Pat's hand gripped my fist. His firm voice pierced the angry fog in my head. "Joseph! We don't yell at each other at the breakfast table! And Adam, your brother has a point. We don't always treat him as a man."

Hoss took my side, too, and I was grateful for that. I could always count on him. "Remember the other day, big brother. Joe said the pasture was grazed, and the cattle had to be moved. You didn't believe him but rode to the herd to check for yourself.

"Yeah, because I don't trust Joe to make rational, well-thought-out decisions. He acts on instinct without thinking."

"I do think! But not everyone is as hesitant as you are when it comes to—"

Hoss's sad eyes shot from one to the other, unsure if he should take my side again. He looked like he just bit into a lemon instead of his biscuit.

Pa's palm slammed down on the table, rattling the cups on their saucers. "Stop arguing, boys. Joseph is young and inexperienced, and questioning some decisions is not a mistake or a lack of confidence. I will admit, though, that perhaps I should have given you more freedom and responsibility."

My fist relaxed, releasing the napkin. I stared into Adam's eyes without blinking. "I'm sticking to my decision. I'll work somewhere else this summer."

"You know I can't keep you if you want to leave. I won't force you to stay on the Ponderosa." I heard the sadness in Pa's tone. He had enough to worry about right now, and I didn't want to hurt him.

As I turned to him, my voice softened. "I'd like your approval."

My father put his hand on my arm and squeezed. "I won't stand in your way if that's what you want. But I do hope you'll come back in the fall."

"Yeah, sure! Thanks, Pa!"

Two days later, I packed and rode off the ranch with Cochise. I only took a little money, some clothes, and my chaps. As I left familiar territory behind and turned my horse east toward the Rocky Mountains, my heart pounded with anticipation. I was young, and a long, exciting summer of adventure and opportunity lay ahead.

For two months now, I had been on the road. Like one of the cowpokes who roamed the countryside taking on odd jobs, I let myself drift. I enjoyed freedom, working just enough to live. I didn't need much. Most of the time, Cooch and I camped out in the open, only now and then treating myself to a cheap room, a bath, and a shave and my horse to a night in the livery stable with a good helping of oats.

Narrowing my eyes, I tried to read the weathered word on the cracked wooden sign. "Greenfield," I murmured, grinning, looking around as I drove down the main road. What fool had come up with that name? The town was just as dusty and dry as Virginia City. My eyes swept over the Lazy Dog Saloon and the matching thin grey mutt dozing on the sidewalk in the evening sun. There was a doctor's office and a dress store, but my first need was watering Cochise.

The well was the center of the small town. A girl with thick black braids hauled the water pail, causing the rusty winch to squeak in outrage.

"Howdy, Miss!" I greeted as I pulled up next to her and dismounted. At first glance, she was recognizable as a half-breed, Mexican, or, more likely, Indian. Her smooth, even skin was a light coffee color. She was pretty, very pretty, with a straight nose and full lips that made my heart beat faster. The girl's clothes were not different from any other white woman's. She wore a high-necked blue dress and a white apron. Her hands were sinewy and red, showing me she must be working hard.

"May I help you?" I grabbed the rough, frayed hemp, which I was sure would hurt her cracked palms, and pulled the bucket from the well. "Shall I fill your pitcher with water?"

She nodded and looked at me, her expression severe and appraising.

"Is there a livery stable around? My mount needs a helping of oats."

"Yes, next street to your right is a stable and blacksmith. You've got a nice horse, Cowboy! You don't often see white folks riding a pinto." She raised her hand and stroked Cooch's forehead, who closed his eyes in pleasure.

I was surprised to hear her speak English without an accent. "He's fast and smart. He understands every word. Don't you, Cochise?"

My pinto snorted and nudged me, more due to his thirst than my question.

"Sure!" Eye-rolling, she picked up the pitcher. Her steps were smooth, and she held her head high as she walked away with a light stride.

I opened my mouth. But what do you yell after a girl you meet on the street for the first time without being introduced to her? I bet she didn't want to have anything to do with a white man. With a shrug, I fetched another pail of water from the well.

Since my dry throat cried out for a beer and I was not averse to some company, I decided to stop at the saloon first. Music blared out, and I felt a brief pang of loneliness as a full baritone voice sang along. "As I was walking down the street, down the street, a pretty little gal I chanced to meet ..."

Adam had often played 'Buffalo Gals'around the campfire on cattle drives while the ranch hands and we sang along, loud but off-key.

Lost in thought, I walked through the batwing doors and stepped up to the bar. "Howdy, bartender. Give me a beer."

"Sure."

I slid a coin across the counter and got the drink, which I drank halfway down. My eyes slid over the men sitting around the tables, playing cards, laughing, and talking, but I knew I wouldn't find a familiar face. It was at that very moment that I missed my family. I wonder what they did. My brothers probably sat before the fireplace lost in a game of checkers while Pa smoked his pipe or read a book. If they saw me here, what would they say?

I hadn't made the big money yet, and I'd found that working on other ranches wasn't so different from how we run the Ponderosa. I wasn't unhappy, and it was an adventure, but I imagined it to be more exciting.

Although you found like-minded young men everywhere, there were no deep friendships, and I felt lonely. Of course, I would never admit this back home. I met Cowboys roaming the countryside looking for work, traveling salesmen offering herbal tinctures or pulling teeth, and shady characters you'd better not run into in the dark in a back alley if you were going to keep living. There were some fleeting acquaintances, an occasional saloon girl who took me to her room, but I missed Mitch and Seth.

I stifled a yawn. The long weeks of traveling had begun to wear on me. My clothes were dusty and hadn't been washed in a long time, and it had been a week since I'd last bathed or shaved. As I wiped the foam from my mouth, I could smell my sweat and feel the scratchy stubble of my beard.

A tall man in his forties walked into the saloon and came to stand next to me at the bar. He wore a clean, quality shirt, a new leather vest, and shiny black boots. The man greeted the bartender, who poured him a glass of whiskey without being asked. His eyes flickered over my clothes. Then he studied my face. "Searching for work, son?"

I shrugged. "Depends on what job you offer."

The man took his time answering. He pulled a long cigar from a pocket and lit it. "Is the pinto outside the saloon your horse?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"A well-polished saddle is a sign that the owner takes care of his equipment and does much riding. How about me buying you a steak?"

While I wondered why the fellow was interested in whether I kept my stuff in order, my stomach began to growl at the mention of eating. I tried not to be too rude. "Steak sounds good, but I'll pay for my meal."

The bartender nodded and hurried into the next room. Moments later, he placed a steaming plate in front of me. My mouth watered at the sight of the juicy meat with all the fixings. "Thanks," I said, tucking into the grub with a good appetite.

The fact that the man watched me with a satisfied expression made me more uncomfortable by the minute. What was he up to? I jumped, sending the fork smacking against the plate, as he grabbed my wrist and turned my palm upwards to look at the calluses.

"You seem to be used to heavy work! I'm Henry Ashley, and I've got a ranch a few miles out of town. I catch and sell wild horses and need a bronc buster."

My eyes lit up, and I choked back a broad grin.

"Don't let on how interested you are. Drive a hard bargain!" I remembered a lesson from Adam.

"I'm Joe Cartwright. I have experience with horses, but it's a matter of price, mister."

The man blew spicy cigar smoke in my direction. "I'll pay you ten dollars a horse if you're good. Jim, who used to do it for me, is out for a few weeks with a broken leg."

"I'll do it for fifteen."

"Tomorrow, I'll watch you ride and decide if you're the right man for the job, boy."

As we rode into Ashley's Blue Horse Ranch's yard, the setting sun bathed the house in a reddish light. Surrounded by lush pastures, it lay in a valley at the foot of some hills, with the Rocky Mountains rising behind. The two-story house was built of thick, carefully fitted pine logs with small windows to keep out the winter cold. On the big porch stood two rocking chairs and pots of flowers, which led me to conclude that there had to be a Mrs. Ashley as well.

I spent the night in the bunkhouse, not in a cheap hotel room as planned, and Cochise was fed oats and hay in the large, light-filled stable.

The following morning found me standing with two other cowboys beside Ashley at the corrals near the barn. In the bigger one on the right, a herd of mustangs ran back and forth. Their nervous snorting and frightened reaction to our presence told me they had never been in contact with humans. It was a colorful mixture of black, palomino, and bay horses. Their smell hung in the air, and the swirling dust settled on my tongue. It was a familiar feeling.

My new boss was a confident, chatty fellow with a slight paunch and a taste for cigars. "These are the broncs I want you to break, boy—thirty fine, fresh-caught animals. I hope you know something about your job. You seem pretty young. But now is your chance to show me what you got. Jim was good, but there comes a day when you're out of luck. You'll get distracted, be blinded by the sun, or have an unfortunate fall."

He pushed his black hat back and pulled out a pocket watch on a chain. He didn't want to time how long it would take me, did he?

"Jed and Hugh are my horse wranglers. Hugh is the foreman. He's in charge around here. You will work with these two."

"Yes, sir," I said, my attention already on the animals. One of them, an appaloosa stallion of a color I'd never seen before, caught my eye right away. His head, neck, and shoulders were a rich red that reminded me of Hop Sing's shiny copper pots. Further back, the red was flecked with white hairs, and he had the typical black spots on his back and hips. His dark legs were as if covered in pitch, and straws were tangled in his mane and tail.

Most people preferred plain horses, but I was fond of colorful critters. I noticed the well-developed joints, and the shoulders, being broad and flat, promised a wide gait. The stallion stood still, watching us with alert, intelligent eyes, only his beating tail betraying his nervousness.

Ashley's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. An amused smile played around his mouth. "Which one do you want to start with, young man?"

"Saddle this little bay mare!"

Hugh's best years had passed. He was a bow-legged man with an expansive gray mustache and a limp, but he looked experienced. "Good choice, son," he nodded at me in approval.

My new boss lit a cigar and leaned his elbow on the fence, smiling as if he found the whole thing entertaining. What was his opinion of me? Did he think I was just a loudmouth kid? The way he treated me from on high, I didn't like. Sure, he was the boss, and I was just a broken drifter to him, but I wouldn't tell him I was the son of the wealthiest rancher in Nevada. I felt we wouldn't be friends, but at least I didn't have to work with him.

Jed was slim, in his thirties, with light brown hair and long sideburns. With a curt nod, he swung onto his horse and reached for the lasso to cut the mare out of the herd. So far, I hadn't heard a word from him yet, just a "howdy" to greet me, but he seemed easygoing.

The reluctant animal was blindfolded with an old sack, then saddled and given a halter. Meanwhile, I slipped into my chaps. The leather was stiff and cracked, as they hadn't been used for some time. I should treat them with grease tonight, I thought as I took some stilted steps.

Yes, I was nervous. I guess I was lucky the boss allowed me to choose the mustang for my first try since a bronc buster was often tested on the wildest horse available. Ashley would follow my every move, and I wanted this job. If I could break the whole bunch, I would make as much in a few weeks as I made in a year at home.

Jed maneuvered the horse into the chute. I had picked this mare on purpose. She was quick, lively, and agile, and I'd have a chance to prove my skill, but she didn't look like she'd be in for a long, hard fight with a rider.

Three pairs of eyes were glued on me when I took a deep breath, wiped my damp hands on my chaps, and pulled on my gloves. Then, I climbed onto the top rail and lowered myself into the saddle. Although I had last busted broncs in the fall, over six months ago, my body remembered all the familiar moves. My boots found the stirrups, my fingers tightened around the rope, the right arm outstretched for balance. The mare threw her head back with a snort, and I could feel her tensing beneath me.

"Ready?" asked Hugh, his hand on the gate.

I nodded. "Yeah!"

It was a good ride. Anticipating the mustang's bucking and bolts and countering them with my weight, I managed to stay in the saddle. It wasn't long before the mare dropped her head and gave up. Jed guided his bay beside me, and I dismounted over his horse's rear.

My heart was in my throat, but I had no doubt Ashley would be happy with me. I was in my element on horseback, and I was sure he had noticed. Grinning, I wiped my face and looked at my boss with anticipation. "Am I a good fit, Mr. Ashley?"

"Sure, son. You're hired. I pay you twelve dollars for each horse broken in. I see it's not the first time you've done it. All right, boys, you keep at this. I got paperwork waiting for me." Ashley checked his watch, then turned to hurry back to the house.

"Come on, let's get on. We don't get paid to linger." Hugh slapped me on the back, kicking up dust. "You're skinny, boy. Did the boss pay for your supper yesterday?"

"He wanted to, but I didn't let him."

"Ashley was curious if you were a good eater. He'd never hire a man who didn't appreciate a decent meal or failed to care for his gear and horse."

"That's a funny way to hire people, but I guess everybody has their own method."

Two weeks had passed since I had arrived at the ranch. Every bone in my body ached, and I had long since stopped counting my bruises. New, dark blue ones joined the yellow-green, older ones already fading. Not only did I have to break the ponies in and get them ready for the saddle, but I also had to train them. A riding horse had to be led without overtaking the owner and stay put when the reins were on the ground. It had to master the spin and the sliding stop and react to the slightest pull of the rein or leg pressure.

I stifled a weary yawn and rinsed the day's dust from my throat with the lukewarm water. The setting sun's red light outlined the appaloosa's muscles beneath his glossy coat. He let out a soft snort as his clear, coal-black eyes met mine. It was like a challenge, making my tiredness vanish at once. Feeling that it wouldn't be easy had kept me from trying to break him until now. "Hugh, I'm going to ride this appaloosa for one round, and then we're done!"

He removed his hat and scratched his head, making his gray hair stand up in all directions. "You should save him for another day when you're fresh. Jim has tried to break him and failed, and you've already had two hard falls!"

Tempted to listen to the experienced foreman, I hesitated for a moment. Better to try first thing in the morning? But I had never met a horse I couldn't ride and it appealed to me to impress Jed and Hugh with my skills, even though I shouldn't care what they thought of me. I wouldn't tuck tail. My ambition took over. "I can make it today."

"All right, son, your choice. Jed, go get that stallion for us!"

I realized it would be a tough ride and regretted my decision as I lowered myself onto the horse. On the other hand, challenges had always spurred me on, and only a coward would have backed down now. I wrapped the rope around my gloved hand twice, pressed my hat on my forehead against the low sun, and slipped my boots into the stirrups. "Okay, let's go!"

It was like fireworks exploding beneath me. The mustang catapulted out of the chute, landing on all four legs at once. The shock of the impact rattled through my tired bones. Then, the animal began to buck. My teeth clashed together several times as it bounced through the coral, similar to a ball. It threw its hind legs so high in the air that I would have fallen over its neck if I hadn't clung to the saddle horn. My hat tumbled, and the sun's rays penetrating the kicked-up dust blinded me. The mustang was nimble and smart. It spun in quick circles on the spot the size of my palm until everything blurred before my eyes. Then it tossed its head from side to side, trying to dig its teeth into my shin. I yanked hard on the halter. An angry mixture of a scream and a growl came from the animal's throat that made my hair stand on end. The stallion backed until his hindquarters bumped against the railings. Then he flung himself sideways against a post to crush my leg.

Planks cracked, or was it my bones? I let out a scream. Jed was beside me with his horse and a lasso, trying to push the appaloosa away from the fence. I yanked my boot from the stirrup. The horse felt the shift in my weight and jumped to the side, twisting and turning. I lost my footing and swirled through the air. The ground rushed towards me. All the breath was driven from my lungs as I landed hard. Bright flashes chased through the back of my head.

"Get out of here!" my brain screamed, but my body refused to obey. I lay on my back, limbs splayed as dust wafted over me. Thank God I had good reflexes. My arm shot up to shield my face when iron-hard hooves thundered to the ground inches from my ear. Sharp white teeth flashed out of nowhere. They dug into my shirt and yanked out a shred of fabric. I sucked in a ragged breath. My voice worked again. A yell erupted from me. Why didn't someone catch that beast?

Then the devil on hooves was gone.

"Damn, boy!" Hugh knelt beside me. "You okay?"

Face contorted in pain, I got up with his help and limped out of the corral. It surprised me that my leg could support my weight. Groaning, I lowered myself onto an empty barrel and started to take stock of my injuries. I knew what broken bones felt like, but all the joints seemed to work.

Shaking his head, the foreman handed me the canteen with a reproving look. I was grateful he didn't give me an "I told you so" lecture.

"Thanks!"

I drank deep, greedy gulps, pouring the rest over my neck. The water brought me back to life, and I glanced at the arena, where the stallion was secured to the fence with a lasso around his neck. But there was a price to pay.

"Fucking son of a bitch!" Clutching his arm, Jed climbed out of the corral. I saw blood oozing from between his fingers.

"I guess you need a doctor, boy!" Hugh said, eyeing the wrangler's bloody, torn shirt, then unbuttoning his scarf. "Let me see!"

Hugh ripped open the fabric, revealing a deep bite mark on Jed's forearm. The skin was torn and squeezed at the bulging edges and already starting to turn bluish.

Damn, our boss is going to be pissed.

The wrangler wrapped his neckerchief tight around the wound and knotted it. "Come on, son, let's get you to the doc. Joe, will you hitch up the wagon and drive him to town? Jed doesn't look like he can ride."

It was a short drive of less than half an hour, but the sun had set when I pulled up in front of the Greenfield doctor's office. "I better go in with you. I've seen sheets with more color than your face."

Pressing his injured arm to his chest, Jed climbed out of the seat. 'We make a lovely couple,' I thought with a grimace as we climbed the three steps to the elevated walkway. Jed swayed, and I limped. When people looked at me, they would think of an old man with rheumatism, not an eighteen-year-old.

The wrangler knocked and opened the door without waiting since the brightly lit windows told us that someone was still at work. "Hello, Doc?"

A young woman with a broom in her hand rushed out of one of the rooms, taking in the situation at once. "Bronc busting, huh?" she said with a glance at our dusty clothes and chaps. "I just do the cleaning, but Doctor Morris will be here any minute. He`s currently treating a bullet wound."

I must have stared at her open-mouthed too long since her dark eyes flashed challenging. It was as if she expected a snide remark about her skin color or job.

My first thought was how pretty she was, then I remembered that I had seen her before. She was the half-breed from the well!

I put on my charming smile and tried to tap my hat, but my hand didn't go anywhere. My hat lay trampled in the corral. Embarrassed, I let my arm drop. "I'm Joe. We met at the well a few weeks ago."

An enchanting dimple appeared on her left cheek, and she smiled, showing straight white teeth.

"Ah, you're the drifter with the pinto. Without that stubble, I didn`t recognize you."

Frowning, she lowered her eyes to the injured cowboy next to me. I followed her gaze from his arm to the floor, where fine sand from our chaps was mixed with drops of blood.

"Go in the examination room over there. I'll get you a towel."

Jed sat on the leather-covered exam table and let her wrap a piece of cloth around his red-soaked, makeshift bandage.

"Can't you do more for him? I am worried about the bleeding." I asked as she was on her way out the door.

She shot me a glance over her shoulder. "Doc doesn't want me to have any contact with patients. He says it makes the practice look bad." Her voice didn't sound bitter, as I would have expected, but instead resigned.

"It was supposed to be closed, but then the emergency came up. I'm only here at night when no one can see me."

"You can't be serious!"

She shrugged and left us alone.

"How did that stallion get you, Jed?"

"I pulled the damn beast away from you with the lasso. He turned and attacked me." Jed grimaced and fell silent again.

To pass the time, I studied the Latin names on the brown and white glass bottle labels neatly lined up in a cabinet. On a small table was a pile of clean towels and a tray of tweezers, needles, and scalpels, but I avoided looking closer. Where the hell was this doctor? Would Jed bleed to death while he was busy with another patient?

I tucked my hands into the back of my belt and paced until I noticed how much dirt trickled off my trousers. With a sigh, I folded my arms and leaned against the door frame to watch the girl. She grabbed a broom and started to sweep up the sand in the waiting room we had left behind. In between, she kept shooting us glances I couldn't interpret. Did she make sure Jed didn't pass out? That I didn't sneak up behind her?

"You don't have to be afraid of us."

"I'm not afraid!" The words came out in a determined voice, and she brushed a strand of hair from her face with a firm movement. "But your friend looks like he's gonna keel over."

"I'm fine," murmured Jed.

"Sure you are!" I confirmed with a roll of my eyes. This was usually my line. "Finally!" escaped me when the doctor rushed into the room.

His voice sounded harsh; his eyes darted between me and the horse wrangler. "What have we here?"

He was a clean-shaven man in his forties. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and he wore a crooked tie and a grey vest matching his trousers. His exhausted expression fitted the dark circles under his eyes. Maybe that was why he seemed so rude.

"Howdy, Doc!" I greeted.

"Bring me a basin with fresh water, girl. Then you can clean the room next door. And take the bloody laundry."

The girl nodded. "Alright."

The doctor stepped up beside Jed and grabbed his forearm. "What happened, young man?"

"Horse bite."

"That horse was mighty mad at you, wasn't it?" he joked, loosening the blood-soaked rag stuck to the wound while Jed bit his lip. "Did you treat it bad?"

"No. We tried to break it! We work for Ashley." I jumped in, as Jed just shook his head.

The girl hurried over with a bowl and a pitcher and put it down.

"I won't need you here any longer, Jane. And you can wait in the front room."

Grabbing a bucket of water and a rag, the girl started scrubbing the blood of the floorboards. Out of place, I stood in the corner, trying not to stare at her backside as she bent over but instead concentrated on her hair, which she wore pulled back in a bun. I liked how it shone, and loose strands fell in her face.

"You work here at Doc's?" As the question slipped out, I realized how stupid it sounded because it was apparent.

She straightened and frowned at me. Was she more comfortable with being ignored? "Yes, and I am doing the laundry for Miss Stewart across the street. She rents guest rooms." Stepping closer, she pointed at my leg. "What happened to you?"

I shifted my weight and rubbed my thigh, the pain now pulsating to my hip.

"It's my fault. I tried to break a bronc that had been ridden before." I lowered my head, staring at my boots. "I was too darn confident and too proud to listen to the experienced foreman."

The girl gave me a quick touch on my arm. "It was an accident. You didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is. I was so sure I could bust him."

"Why does it matter that he was ridden before?"

I was pleased to see the interest in her eyes. She didn't just make polite small talk. "Once a mustang has figured out how to get rid of you, it will keep trying. They get smarter over time and always come up with new tricks."

The exam room door opened, and Jed emerged, a tight bandage around his arm. If he was surprised to find me still here, he didn't show it. "Need a beer!" he muttered, pushing past me.

The doctor scanned me from head to toe. "You seem a little banged up yourself. Are you all right, son?"

"The stallion slammed my leg against a post."

"Come on, let me see."

"Why not." With a shrug, I limped toward the cot. I unbuckled my chaps, kicked off my right boot, and pulled up my pant leg. More sand trickled onto the floor. "I'm sure nothing's damaged."

"It's my job to judge that!"

An angry-looking, almost black bruise stretched from my ankle to my knee, and the unpleasant sight made the pain flare up again. When the doctor ran his skillful fingers not very gently over my shin, I bit my lower lip to stifle a moan.

"That's similar to Jim's injury, who had the job before you. He wasn't so lucky. His leg was broken. He called the horse a red devil. It was an appaloosa."

"I know. It was the same with me. Pinned me against the railing."

"Like I said, you were lucky. Nothing is broken, so I can't do much for you." Morris handed me a small brown bottle of arnica tincture. "This should help with the swelling. Apply it twice a day."

"How much do I owe you, Doc?"

"Fifty cents."

I handed him a coin.

"Jane, we're through. You can clean up here."

The girl entered the room, holding her body straight and chin up. "All right." When she eyed me, I thought I saw a smile playing around her lips.

I liked the fact that she wasn't submissive like some Indian womenwho worked for white folks. Her eyes flashed with defiance and pride as she picked up the bloody rags, making me feel almost intimidated. I wondered if it would be appropriate to ask her out. How would I look if she turned me down?

"Sorry for the mess we're leaving behind, lady." I pointed at the sand, the bloody towel, and the absorbent cotton lying on the floor.

Morris rolled down his sleeves. "Don't worry about that, young man. Take it easy for a couple of days."

"I will. Thanks, Doc. Good evening." I stepped through the door onto the sidewalk.

"Cowboy, you forgot your chaps!" The girl hurried after me and handed me the bundle.

"Thank you." Kneading the leather in my hands, I hesitated for a moment. Should I ask? Better not.

"Miss, do you have any plans for Sunday?" I heard myself asking.

Pausing in her movements, she raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Would you like to go for a picnic?"

"Nobody's ever asked me to a picnic! Do you want to take me out?" Her dimple appeared as a smile of disbelief flashed across her face.

"Sure! I'll pick you up. Where are you staying?"

"I have a small chamber next to the tack room in the livery stable. The owner was a friend of Pa's, and he let me stay there."

The doctor seemed to have overheard us. "Boy, you better find yourself a white girl!"

I swallowed against the lump of anger in my throat, trying to sound calm, but my voice was as caustic as acid on a piece of metal. "Thanks for the advice, Doc, but I'll decide which girls to date."

The doctor raised his hands in apology, closed the door behind him, and left us standing in the street.

"Don't worry about it, Joe. I hear stuff like this all the time. You get used to it." Jane tried to smile, but I could see in her eyes how much the comment had hurt her.

I placed a comforting hand on her arm. "There's no way you'll ever get used to it."

"You're right. I was raised as a white girl, but people only see my dark skin. Those remarks are painful, even if I try to ignore them. Folks don't know any better. They're full of prejudice."

"I won't let anyone around me talk like that."

"You can't stop that, Joe. I have to continue to work. I'm looking forward to Sunday." Her whole face glowed with joy which looked prettier than a colorful sunrise over Lake Tahoe.

"I'll rent a buckboard."

"You don't need one. I have my horse. We'll meet at Ashley's ranch. I ride a lot in my spare time, so I know the area well."

"Fine, it's Sunday then!"

Grinning, I stepped into the saloon. She said yes! My heart beat fast, and the anticipation of our picnic pushed my throbbing leg into the background.

"Good mood?" With some color back on his face, Jed sat at one of the scratched tables with an almost empty beer glass in front of him.

I plopped down on a chair. "Yeah. I've got a date for Sunday!"

"With the Doc?" The corner of his mouth twitched.

"Idiot!" I replied with a smirk and raised my hand to get the bartender's attention. "Bring me a beer!"

Our boss came into the bunkhouse to check on us the following day. He let his eyes wander over the clothes that were scattered all over the place, the boots on the floor, and my dismantled gun that I had intended to clean before the accident. I rested on the bed in my underwear, holding the open bottle of arnica while Jed sat at the table playing solitaire.

"I heard about what happened. Do you realize I'm not paying you to sit around? What did the doctor say? How long will you be out?" He took out his pocket watch and studied the time. It was a habit of his.

I poured some of the spicy alcoholic tincture into my palm and rubbed it on my swollen lower leg. "With a couple of days' rest, I'll be as good as new. For now, I can continue to work with the green broken horses. Mr. Ashley, I want to buy the appaloosa."

"He almost killed you! Are you still in your right mind, boy, or did you hit your head when you fell? Or do you have a fever?" He leaned forward to feel my forehead with the back of his hand.

"If he had wanted, he could have killed me when I was down. He just panicked. I want to buy him. He's an excellent animal."

"All right, he's yours. I'll take forty dollars from your wages, and you can do whatever you want. Shoot him, set him loose, or just leave him in the corral ... but I have one condition. While you're on my payroll, don't try riding that horse again. I need you alive and well. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

When I dragged myself out of the bunkhouse that evening to relieve myself, a horrible sight made me gasp. As fast as my bruised leg would allow, I hobbled to the smaller corral and wriggled between the crossbars.

"Hugh!" My voice echoed loud and angry across the deserted courtyard. "Who the hell did this?"

My hands shook as I began to undo the knots holding the heavy sandbags on the stallion's back. A very short rope tied his head to a post in the middle of the arena. The sun was relentless on the poor animal, and I could see his muscles trembling. I jerked at the sacks until they thudded to the ground. The horse rolled his eyes back, trying to see what was happening.

"There you go, boy. Take it easy. I'm going to help you. Just be nice and quiet," I cajoled in the calmest, most relaxed voice I could muster. Crouching down, I began to remove the ropes from the fetlocks.

"Be careful, Joe!" Hugh shouted as he approached from behind.

The stallion kicked his hind leg. I saw the hoof flying towards me and managed to spin. A sharp pain exploded in my hip as it hit my flesh with a dull clap. Still, I got to my feet and lurched toward his head. With a quick tug, I released the rope from the post and staggered back to avoid the teeth, which snapped together only inches from my face with a loud 'clack.'

Hands grabbed me and dragged me out of the corral, where the stallion did a few laps, a triumphant sparkle in his expressive eyes. Then, head and tail proudly raised, he paused, lifting his upper lip. It felt like he was laughing at me.

"Trying to kill yourself, boy?" Hugh yelled in my face. I could smell his tobacco breath as he grabbed my shirt and shook me.

"No, but apparently, you tried to kill my horse?"

"Your horse, eh?"

"Yeah, I bought it."

"I just did you a favor. It's an old, tried-and-true method of breaking unruly horses. My grandfather used to do it this way. It works, and it's fast. Ten to twelve hours, and the animals are as good as lambs."

"Just because it's always been like this does not mean it's good! If anybody lays a hand on my horse again ..."

"No hard feelings, son. How could I know you bought it?"

"Only I will take care of him, you understand? I'll feed and water him!"

"Stop fussing. Have it your way." Grumbling to himself, the old wrangler turned and walked away, muttering something about a young, stupid, stubborn buck.

I looked after him, jaw clenched, while I rubbed my hip. I could already feel another bruise forming. I filled a bucket with cool water at the trough pump and approached the coral. "Come here, boy, I've got a drink for you!"

Smiling, I watched the horse move closer. His ears pricked up, and his nostrils flared. As he lowered his nose into the pail, one alert ear turned in my direction.

"I know you didn't mean to harm me. Hugh scared you with the rough treatment. You're too proud to put up with a rider or let him break you, huh? Yeah, I can understand that. I have an obstinate streak myself."

After feeding him an armful of fragrant hay, I sat on the barrel and watched him munch. The dried grass smelled of herbs and summer and reminded me of the haying season at home.

I ran my fingers through my hair in thought. This time, no one could stop me from buying the horse I wanted. I would love to take the appaloosa to the Ponderosa, but he would have to learn to walk on a lead line without kicking or biting, and that would need a lot of training. It wouldn`t even be necessary to ride him in. What would his offspring be like? Would he pass his body structure and color?

Three days later, I felt well enough to get back to work. I refrained from busting broncs for now but trained the horses that already accepted a saddle. Although the swirling dust stuck to my sweaty face and I was thirsty, I enjoyed working at my own pace without anyone watching. Jed recovered from his injuries, and Hugh, on a day off, had gone into town.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone step up to the fence. The tiny spark of annoyance at being interrupted disappeared when I looked closer. The slender figure wore a cowboy hat fastened with a strap under the chin, a red plaid shirt, and a buckskin riding dress. The sight brought a broad grin to my face.

"Hello, Joe!"

"Howdy, Miss Jane. I don't even know your last name!"

She laughed. "Potts. Just call me Jane. I see you're ignoring Doc Morris' orders?"

"Certainly, he didn't send you to check on me? Or couldn't you wait to see me again?"

"Of course, I just wanted to see this snappy horse."

I steered the mare I trained up to the fence. "Back home, I have two brothers and a father who make sure I follow the doctor's instructions, but here I'm my boss."

"You have a family?"

I dismounted and climbed out of the corral. Removing my gloves, I placed them in my pocket. "Yeah, back in Nevada, near Lake Tahoe. My pa's got a ranch there. Come on, we'll sit in the shade. Would you like some coffee? I bet it's cold and bitter. The boys in the bunkhouse make a lousy cup of coffee."

"I'll give it a try."

After tethering her mare, a palomino, she joined me. We sat side by side on a bench. As Jane took a sip from her cup, her mouth tightened. "You weren't kidding. It tastes awful." She spilled the rest. "You looked like one of those drifters when you came to Greenville. Why are you here if you have a family?"

I shifted my weight on the hard seat to relieve my sore hip. "Since I was fifteen, I've worked on my father's ranch. I thought it was time to see something else. To learn new ways or methods, to take responsibility. Nobody took me seriously because I'm the youngest. And what about you? Don't you have a family?"

"My papa was a blacksmith. He worked right here in Greenfield. My mom, she was Bannock, died when I was ten. Smallpox killed my father three years ago. I've been on my own since I was fifteen."

"Have you never thought of living with your mother's people?"

"No, never. I don't have much in common with them."

"So you have no relatives? What about girlfriends?"

"Who wants friendship with an Indian? I have Papa's books. They're my friends. Even though he was just a blacksmith, he wasn't dumb. He used to read a lot."

Jane got up. "I can be grateful for having a job. Working for Doc Morris is okay. He's all right. For someone like me, there aren't many opportunities. I'd rather mop up dirt than work in a saloon. Joe, when will you show me the horse that hurt you?"

I put down my cup. "He's right over there in the coral. I haven't tried to ride him since."

"My mother said you have to gain the trust of the animal. You can't break it by force; it has to want to come to you. The Bannock people blow into their horses' nostrils. That's how they learn your scent."

Watching the stallion, we stood at the fence. "Serious? Blowing into the nostrils? I won't put my face near these teeth! But I've spent much time with him the last three days, feeding him, watering him, trying to show him I'm no threat."

"He must let off steam and get rid of his energy. You see how tense and nervous he is? He's a wild horse used to roaming across the prairie and feeling the wind in his face. You should let him run."

I had realized it wasn't good for a wild horse to be locked in a paddock for weeks, but I couldn't do anything about it. "I've moved him around the corral daily, but I know that wasn't enough. Being confined to my bed makes me feel the same way. Would you help me? We can lead him between us on two ropes."

"Why don't we take him to the picnic on Sunday?"

"Yeah, that may work. I'd rather ride this mare. He knows her. They're from the same herd."

I took a small step to the side so that our elbows, resting on the crossbar, were touching. "It's amazing you know so much about horses! Most women talk about clothes and babies."

"I grew up in the barn watching my papa work. He used to tell me that he put me on a horse before I could even walk."

"It was similar to me. On a ranch, you learn to handle animals as a kid."

Ashley emerged from the house, put his hands on his hips, and glanced at us. With a wry grin, I forced my still sore body to move. "I must go on. I'll see you on Sunday."

Jane's eyes lit up. "Great! I can't wait!"

Jane's face was written all over with anticipation of our trip. She had pulled her hair into a thick braid, which I liked better than the bun. It suited her, and the light blue ribbon she had woven into it matched her blouse.

The little bay mare was now so used to the saddle that I didn't expect any problems. Although my heart pounded with excitement, I didn't let it show. My movements were calm and confident as I guided the pony into the pen beside the stallion. While he greeted her, I was able to attach two long ropes to his halter. Our hands touched for a second as I handed one end to Jane, who was mounted on her palomino. My heart beat even faster when she smiled at me. With the appaloosa between us, we led the horses out of the yard. I noticed his twitching muscles, distended nostrils, and nervous snorting.

"Let's go up to the mountains, Joe! It's beautiful there."

The wind whipped our faces as we galloped across a gently rising meadow. Our horses' hooves drummed a chant of freedom and joy, and the sunlight made the stallion's mane shine. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation of the hard-working muscles beneath me and the scent of grass and fertile earth in my nose. Jane had been right. He loved running. We reined in when we realized our horses were slowing down and sweating.

Laughing, the girl brushed a strand of hair from her brow. Her even, milk-coffee skin had taken on a reddish tint, and her eyes sparkled with energy and liveliness. As she breathed heavily, I tried not to stare at the full breasts that rose and fell under the blue fabric. I craved to pull her into my arms and kiss her. But I would go slow.

The stallion between us snorted and looked satisfied. The tension had drained from his body, and he lowered his head and relaxed. Jane and I exchanged glances and shared a grin. So far, our plan had been a success.

The higher we rode into the mountains, the lush meadows became sparser. A refreshing breeze blew up here, carrying the scent of wildflowers and pines. Birds chirped, and once, we saw a herd of wild sheep, which reminded me of my hunting trips with Hoss. I imagined how much he would love to shoot one of those rams. Hop Sing would prepare a delicious pot roast with baked potatoes. My stomach growled at the thought, and saliva gathered in my mouth. The grub at the ranch wasn't bad, but I'd never eaten as many beans, rice, and bacon as in the past few weeks.

I realized how much I missed my whole family. Summer would end soon, and I had planned to return in the fall. Once or twice, I wrote a letter—not because I felt the need to, but because I knew it would make Pa feel better to hear where I was going and that I was all right.

"Is anything wrong? You look sad." Jane shot me a questioning gaze over the back of the stallion. I was surprised to see how sensitive she was to my feelings.

"No. I just thought about my family and my promise to be back by the end of the summer."

"That soon?"

I could see the disappointment on the girl's face. The dimple disappeared, and she furrowed her brow. "I understand family is important. It's just …" She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Let's keep going."

We found a nice place to picnic. The surrounding granite boulders sheltered us from the wind, and the short grass provided a comfortable place to sit. We could see for miles. The fertile plain stretched below us, and the river wound through the landscape as a vast blue ribbon. The view, the wooded slopes, and the dark green meadows reminded me of Lake Tahoe back home. Last summer, Hoss and I often slipped away from work for a quick dip in the lake. On the weekends, we went fishing together.

My thoughts made me wonder. I should have enjoyed the day, happy to spend it with such an exciting, enchanting girl, but instead, I was homesick? That was ridiculous.

Jane spread out the red and white checkered picnic blanket I had brought while I took the saddles off the horses and sent them out to graze. The stallion made no move to attack me, though I was careful not to get too close to his teeth and hooves.

"Sorry, I couldn't bring the delicious things Hop Sing, our cook, makes for picnics! I hope at least my coffee is better than the one in the bunkhouse. My brothers say it tastes awful." I rummaged through the canvas bag attached to my saddle horn.

"You must have had many picnics, Joe!"

Jane's tone made me pause. "A few."

She started chewing on her thumbnail. "You got a girlfriend back home?"

"Would I be here with you then?"

"Why not? Home is far away, isn't it?"

"No, I am not like that." I pulled out a box of apple pie I bought at a cafe in town. It was a little squashed, but it would still taste good. "I've dated many gals, but my pa taught us to respect and treat women decently. I wouldn't be with you if I had a steady girl at home."

Jane looked at me in a way I couldn't interpret and shrugged. It was clear she didn't believe me and wouldn't discuss it further.

Before spreading the sandwiches, apples, and pie on the blanket, I lit a small fire to make coffee. I even remembered to bring some sugar and cream.

Without a word, Jane took the cup of hot brew and wrapped her hands around it as if to warm them. Did she also feel that the atmosphere between us had become as frosty as a winter's day? Her gaze went past me into space, and she seemed far away.

I put two fingers under her chin and lifted her head to look into her dark eyes. They glistened wet. "Are you crying?"

"No," she lied, wiping her eyes with a vigorous motion. "Let's eat."

Girls! Did I do anything wrong or say something to upset her? I couldn't explain the sudden change in mood that happened as fast as a spring thunderstorm. I shouldn't have said anything about the other girls I've been with. Perhaps relationships were a sore point? But I was here with her now. Wasn't I?

"Ham or cheese?" I asked, offering her two sandwiches to choose from.

"I hate cheese!"

At the sight of her wrinkled nose, I giggled. "Just like my brother Hoss!"

"Tell me about your family, Joe."

Was Jane trying to change the subject? But it was fine by me. I had plenty of stories about my brothers. I bit into the soft bread, chewed, and swallowed, a tale already forming in my mind.

Determined to cheer her up, I put on an innocent smile that made the girls melt away. Pushing my hat onto the back of my head, I moved closer. "My middle brother Hoss is twenty-four, six years older than me. He's strong as a steer and almost a head taller than me, but you have to know he`s good-natured and friendly, with a soft heart. One day, we rode into a place called Kiowa Flats. We were tired and wanted to wash the trail dust off our throats at the bar. Outside the saloon, a welcome party greeted us in a weird, friendly way. The bartender almost jumped out of his skin when we approached. He was so nervous he dropped the glass he polished as we ordered beer."

Janes sat back and took a bite of her sandwich.

"A few men stood as if glued in place, lined up against the wall next to us, and they didn't take their eyes off us. 'Hoss, is something wrong with me? Do I smell?' I asked my brother. He sniffed. 'No, like always. Horse and leather.'"

The girl giggled. Her eyes were glued to my lips.

"When we tried to make small talk with the bartender, he started rambling about the weather and wouldn't stop. Hoss and I exchanged puzzled looks. Either people in Texas were very strange, or something was wrong with us."

She couldn't contain her laughter when I told her it had been worse than hanging when the bunch of ladies tried to get us to repent after we ended up in jail. In the end, it turned out the townfolks mistook us for the Slade brothers, two ruthless gunslingers.

When I finished my story, Jane had tears in her eyes. But they were laughing tears.

Grabbing an apple for dessert, I rubbed it on my shirt and took a bite. A thought came to me how Cochise always searched my pockets for treats.

I stood up and walked over to the appaloosa. He ceased to graze and lifted his head. His withers muscles twitched, and his tail flapped as he shooed away some flies crawling over his dusty, unkempt white-reddish coat. Someday, I would have to try brushing him.

With my hand outstretched, I offered him the apple. The horse stepped toward me, and I tried to stay calm and relaxed. I'd had much practice reading horses, and the stallion didn't look like he wanted to attack me.

Holding my breath, I watched as he took another step. Juice trickled from the bitten fruit and dripped onto my palm. His nostrils flared while he inhaled the sweet scent. Gentle lips reached for the apple and plucked it away.

Turning to Jane, I saw the excitement dance in her eyes. "That was great, Joe! You'll see. Soon, he'll be as well-behaved and affectionate as a loyal dog."

Horse talk was easy, and the rest of the day was smooth. We ate every last pie crumb, and Jane said she loved my coffee. I liked girls who didn't peck at their food but who ate with as much of an appetite as I did.

"We have to get back, or we're not going to make it before dark," I said as I stood and rolled up the blanket. I loved how Jane brushed her hair from her face with the back of her hand and chewed her fingernail when she was thoughtful or nervous. Her laugh sounded bright and clear as a babbling stream, and her smooth movements reminded me of a cat.

I was reluctant to leave because I wanted to tell Jane how her beauty took my breath away. She should know how my heart raced when I looked at her and how I desired her. I wanted her to understand how much I enjoyed our time together, but I had no idea how to say it in a way that would not give the wrong impression. I wasn't the type of man who was at a loss for words, but her suggestions about men taking advantage of girls made me cautious.

It would have been too awkward in the rough terrain to lead the appaloosa between us, so we gave up. The beast followed me without even trying to nip me. We rode along a narrow path that would take us into the valley below. To our left was a steep scree slope; on the right, the rock dropped to a raging stream.

My arm was yanked back as the stallion came to a sudden stop.

"Come on, boy!" I tried to encourage him to keep going with cheering tongue clicks. This was the worst place imaginable to fight an unruly horse.

Jane, riding before me, reined in her palomino and glanced back. "What's going on?"

The appaloosa, stubborn as a bad-tempered mule, dug his hooves into the path, which was only three feet wide. He refused to move forward and began to back up, knowing it was too narrow to turn.

"Damn," I murmured as his nervousness spread to Jane's and my mount, who began to prance, toss their heads, and snort. Inch by inch, the stallion pulled me backward. Horses are stronger than men, and he knew it. With only the halter and no bit, I had little control. "I can't stop him!"

"Let go of him, Joe!"

"No!"

The distress in Jane's voice was evident. "Joe, you're gonna fall!"

It was only a dozen yards to the wild, foaming river below us, but a fall would still result in serious injury. My bay mare followed the pull, pushing backward along the trail.

"Something's wrong, Jane! The horses act strangely! We'll better get—"

A startled flock of scolding finch rushed past us, so close that I flinched. Something had caused them to panic. The stallion reared up, and I saw the fear in his distorted eyes. He quickened his pace, pulling me and my mount along. Now, the path was wide enough to turn around.

He spun and started running. The rough hemp ate into my sweaty palm, leaving a painful rope burn. Before the end could slip through, I gritted my teeth and wound it around my hand twice.

I clutched the thighs at my mare and my fist around the rope, fearing the stallion would rip my arm out of my joint. Concentrating on staying in the saddle, I lost control of the horses. Behind me, I heard the palomino's hoofbeats. What made me decide me to take this wild mustang with me?

A deep rumble came straight from the bowels of the Earth. It was the eeriest sound I'd ever heard. My hair stood on end. Bewildered, I stared at the scattered pine trees, their tops swaying and shaking.

"What's that?" yelled Jane.

"Earthquake!"

The ground vibrated. Legs spread wide, our horses came to a halt. They tried not to lose footing as the rock beneath us shuddered and trembled. It was a frightening experience. Solid stone was something safe and reliable, and it wasn't supposed to move, but that rule didn't apply right now.

It seemed to go on for hours, but I guessed it had only lasted a minute or two. I wondered why the reddish evening sun was still in the sky when the earth came to rest. Jane and I exchanged glances to make sure the other was alright.

"It's over," she breathed, and her hunched shoulders relaxed. But she was wrong. A crash and rumbling made me spin as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief. Stones the size of giant pumpkins slid and thundered down the slope behind us to the creek, mixed with earth, debris, and dust. The landslide buried the complete path we had just been on. Stunned, we stared at the scene.

I was surprised to hear my voice sound unusual loud in the following silence. "There is no way we are going to get through here!" I switched the lead line to the left and moved the cramped fingers of my right hand to check. A burning pain radiated from my palm. "Is there another trail back?"

"Yes, but it's a detour. We have to go around this peak and down into the valley to the south, but I'm afraid we won't be able to make it before it gets dark."

"Then we'll have to stay here for the night. Do you know a sheltered place?"

"Yes, there's a cabin. Many years ago, an old man lived here. It's only an hour away. Let me take the lead."

The shack, huddled against a rock face, was small, simple, and sturdy. That was why it had survived the earthquake without any visible damage. The rough-hewn pine logs were weathered, and the door jammed, but the roof looked fine. Since the moss insulation had crumbled from between the trunks, it was draughty inside, but it would do.

We built a fire in the potbelly stove, and soon, a cozy warmth spread, for the nights here in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains were cool even in summer.

"I still have coffee powder. We can prepare some. And we have two sandwiches left from our picnic. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful!"

Shoving aside the moth-eaten furs and old flour sacks, we pushed the table before the stove and sat on two wobbly stools. They creaked in protest but could support our weight. The cabin had only one room. A torn curtain separated a cot. Nothing in the shack we would have called furniture at home. An old suitcase had been made into a rack, and a few wooden crates served as a clothes chest. Mouse droppings crunched under our feet with every step. Spider webs hung in the corners, and dead flies lay around the two small windows, which still had intact panes.

By now, it was dark inside. The kerosene in the lamp with the cracked shade had long since dried up, but we had found two candle stumps that provided some light. We sat close together in front of the fire and listened to the hissing and crackling of the flames. Feeling warm and full, I slipped out of my jacket and leaned back.

"Joe, you're hurt!"

Only now did I notice the red stain on the scarf I wrapped around my sore hand earlier. "It's just a rope burn, and it's not bleeding anymore. See?"

"Let me clean it anyway!"

Shrugging, I laid my arm on the table. "If you insist!"

With a smile, I watched her small, deft hands unwind the makeshift bandage. She pulled a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her pocket, frowned, then decided it was clean enough. From her canteen, she moistened it and concentrated on dabbing the dried blood from my palm and removing hemp fibers stuck in the torn flesh.

Her left hand cupped my wrist, and I enjoyed the touch. Her eyelashes were thick and black, and a strand of hair tickled her face. She twitched her nose and blew it away.

Jane looked up as if she felt my glance. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You're pretty!"

She made a snorting sound deep in her throat. "I'm not pretty. I'm much too dark for a white woman and way too white to be a Bannock. Don't play games with me, Joe." She lowered her gaze to my wound, dabbing so hard I winced and hissed. "Sorry."

It didn't sound like she meant it.

"What is it, Jane? You acted so strangely at the picnic. Don't you believe me?"

"You're handsome and admitted you've been on many dates. Men have some fun with the girl, a bit of dancing, some stolen kisses, and when they get bored, they move on to the next one."

"What makes you think I'm that kind of man?"

"That's the way every man I met was. They promise you the moon and try to entice you into the barn or a back alley. After they get what they want, they drop you."

I was struck by the bitterness and contempt in her voice. "Did this happen to you?"

"I was young and naïve, but I learned pretty fast not to believe everything men say to me. Never mind. Let's talk about something else. I bore you with my complaining."

Jane got up so fast that her chair almost toppled over. "Let me see if I can find some clean cloth for a bandage."

I placed my hand on her forearm. "Wait! Jane, listen to me. I'm not one of those men. I told you, Pa raised us right. I would never hurt a woman on purpose or take advantage of her. I'm sorry you had a bad experience."

"You mean it?"

"I'm very serious," I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You're shivering. Are you cold? It's drafty here in the cabin."

She didn't lean against me, but she didn't push me away, either. "I'm all right!"

"We should get some sleep." I got up. "You can take my bedroll for the night. Would you like to use the cot or sleep by the fire?"

The stove's metal clicked as it cooled down. I shifted my head on my saddle and pulled the thin picnic rug tighter around my shoulders. It wasn't my throbbing hand or the cold that kept me awake.

I listened to Jane's deep, even breaths and the cot creaking as she rolled over. She mumbled something unintelligible as she slept. Would she get involved with me? How could I prove my honorable intentions? Maybe it was enough that I made no effort to approach her.

Was Jane cold as well? We could keep each other warm. I imagined the soft steps of bare feet approaching on creaking floorboards. She would lift my blanket and slide next to me, pressing her body close against my back. Pull yourself together. Think of something else—the earthquake.

I'd heard that animals can anticipate natural events. Had this happened today? If so, the stallion had saved our lives by accident. I didn't even give him a name. How could I call him? Copper? Devil? Perhaps Jane had an idea.

The soft tripping I heard was not human but a mouse. Jane wouldn't crawl under my covers. With a sigh, I pulled my knees up to my chest, shifted on the horse-smelling saddlecloth until I found a comfortable position, and finally fell asleep.

The next day, we returned to Ashley's ranch without a hitch, taking a detour through another valley. We both sidestepped around any subject that might cause resentment. We talked about harmless things like ranching, cattle, and my brothers, and we were careful to avoid women and relationships.

Something deeper than a superficial friendship was too complicated. Besides, I would soon travel back home, which would mean the end of any budding romance. But instead of saying a reasonable "see you around" when we arrived at Ashley's ranch, my tongue formed an invitation.

"Shall we meet again tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I want to spend more time with you."

"I can't."

To hide my disappointment, I lowered my gaze. Heck. Our trip hadn't gone as well as I would have liked. Anyway, I'd been sure she'd enjoyed our time together as much as I had.

As Jane steered her mare beside me and touched my sleeve, I looked up in surprise. "I work late tomorrow, but I'm free on Tuesday. You proved in the cabin you're a decent fellow. I'm going to trust you. Don't let me down."

My heart skipped a beat. "I won't! God, Jane, you have no idea how happy you make me!"

Jane chuckled. "See you, Cowboy!" She waved me goodbye and turned her horse toward Greenville with a dazzling smile that took my breath away.

Unbridled joy surged through my body as I tipped my hat in farewell, watching her leave. This girl was special, and only a fool would let her go. I wanted to make the most of the time we had left. Maybe I would stay a few more weeks. Perhaps Jane would come with me. We could work something out if we wanted to be together.

"Hey, that's blacksmith Potts' daughter." I heard Hugh's voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Joe is seeing her!" said Jed.

I tossed the towel by the washbowl and stepped out of the bunkhouse before Jane had time to answer. My shirt was open, my hair dripping. While Jed sat on the bench with a guitar on his lap, chewing a match and plucking the strings, Jane and the foreman stood facing each other. The girl had straightened up to her full height, and I could see the angry glint in her eyes. "I've got a date!" she hissed at Hugh.

I hurried past the wrangler, buttoning my shirt. "Mind your business."

"It's all right, son, I won't say anything. I can see why the girl's got your attention. She's pretty."

"Wrong color, unfortunately!" Jed muttered, accompanied by a chord.

"Leave it to me! Come on, Jane, let's get out of here. I'll just get my jacket."

"What are you up to?" she asked as I saddled Cochise, who pranced around, looking forward to the trip.

"A ride in the moonlight," I whispered so the two horse wranglers, still nearby and watching us, couldn't hear me.

The girl laughed. "Getting in your romantic side, huh? Are you trying to impress me?"

"Sure."

Her eyes fell on the Appaloosa. "Are we taking him along?"

"Yeah. The exercise is good for him, and he's pretty well-behaved now." With an apple in my hand, I walked to the fence. The stallion studied me with his intelligent eyes. A smile flashed across my face as he took hesitant steps toward me. Standing beside me, Jane let out the breath she had been holding. "I spend my money on apples, but better he sinks his teeth into a fruit than my flesh," I said in a low tone to not frighten him.

"He found out he can trust you!" Jane attached the lead rope while he chewed and searched for more. As we rode out of the yard, I could feel Hugh and Jed's appraising gaze on my back.

The last two weeks had flown by, yet it felt like Jane and I had known each other for a lifetime. We met every night off. The satisfied smile never left my face, and my mind wandered from work to Jane's thick, coal-black hair, her seductive lips, and her soft voice caressing my skin as she sat next to me and talked.

I continued to get along well with the two horse wranglers. They didn't care about me dating a half-breed girl. Jed rarely spoke anyway, and Hugh was sensible enough not to comment when I stared into the distance without seeing anything or brushed the same spot on a horse too long. Several times, I caught him grinning at the sight of me. I thought my being in love amused him or reminded him of his good times with a girl.

Maybe that's why I hadn't considered people's reactions when Jane and I walked into the only restaurant in Greenville.

It wasn't fancy but served decent steak and good California wine. In contrast to the tasty food, the atmosphere reminded me of cold, damp mist creeping up your collar. Jane's full lips were pressed together, and I noticed a tense tug on her mouth when the waiter shot us snide looks. I waited for him to remark, ready to jump up and punch him in the face. But it seemed that the man had sensed my determination to spend the evening here with my girl, and he refrained from commenting. Perhaps he didn't want to upset his paying guest.

"Could you imagine living anywhere else?" I asked, leaning forward. The simple silver ring I'd bought last Saturday in the larger town nearby was nothing special; it was more of a symbol. It burned in my pocket, but I wanted to ensure she said yes before I gave it to the girl.

Jane flashed me a dimpled smile. "In Nevada?"

How fast her mood could change always amazed me. "Yeah, for example."

"Before I give up everything, I need a little more than 'for example.'"

I played with my napkin, cleared my throat, and put my hand over hers. "I know this isn't very romantic, but will you be my wife?"

"Marry you?" Her eyes went up. "We've only known each other for two weeks."

"I know you're the one. I love you, Jane! You're funny and interesting. You quickly get excited and feel as comfortable on horseback as I do. Many girls are superficial and are interested only in themselves. But with you, I can have a reasonable conversation." I thought about the words that had just flowed out of my mouth and realized that it was true; until now, a charming face or ample curves had been enough to make me fall in love, but our relationship went deeper.

Was there a hint of blush on her cheeks? She put her hand on top of mine and looked me in the eye. "I'd say yes, Joe, but you don't know what you're getting yourself into. We won't be able to get legally married in a church. Did you see the expression on the waiter's face? I'm surprised he even served us. You know how people talk about whites living together with Indians. How do you think my mother and father felt? The hostility, the insults, the hatred ..."

"We can handle it. At some point, people will get used to it. Look at Hugh and Jed."

"What would your father say if you brought a Bannock woman home?"

"We're good friends with Chief Winnemucca. My pa treats people of different colors with as much respect as white. Our Chinese cook, for example, is more family than employee."

Jane was skeptical. She frowned, which looked adorable, and nibbled on her thumbnail. "When do you plan to ride back to Nevada?"

"Let's go outside!" The disdainful looks of the other guests boring into my back irritated me. I saw them whispering. I'd probably have to get used to it if I was serious about Jane, but I just wanted to get out of here right now. It felt like I couldn't breathe!

Walking down the deserted street, I enjoyed the sensation of her small, rough hand in mine. I could feel her furrows. If we lived together, she wouldn't have to work until her hands were sore from the cold water.

The day's heat was gone, and the air carried a hint of freshness and moisture from the distant river. Countless stars sparkled above us, and the full moon shone a bright white light. "Tonight is wonderful, Joe. We could ..."

Laughter rang out from the saloon, and two drunken cowboys staggered into the street. "Hey, Indian lover!" yelled one as we passed them.

The other patted his gun and took a swaying step toward us. "Want me to make her a good Indian?"

My body stiffened, which my girl, who had tucked under me, didn`t miss. I brushed the butt of my pistol, ready to draw. No matter what the cost, I would defend her to death.

"Don't, Joe!" Jane's voice was insistent, and she pulled me along. "They want you to react. Don't do them the favor!"

Her voice cut through the fury that filled my entire mind. Putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring the laughter and obscene comments echoing behind us took every ounce of willpower. It wasn't until we were some distance away, almost on the outskirts of town, that I could relax. "I don't understand how people can be so full of hate."

"If we want to be together, our lives will be like this or worse. Are you ready for that? If you back out, I won't blame you."

"No, I have made my decision." I sucked in a deep breath picking up on her question from earlier. "I will be done with the mustangs in about a week."

"One week. Suppose we were to get wed the Bannock way. It's very simple. A man and a woman move in together, and they are considered to be married. We could get a holy man's blessing. Still, I'm not sure it would be a good idea. Don't get me wrong, Joe. I like you very much, but you know how people feel about mixed marriages. Wouldn't you be unhappy watching every day how the children we might have been treated?"

"Have you no dreams? Will you give up happiness because you're worried about what people think?"

"I was like any young girl with dreams of a rich husband, a fancy ranch house, and many babies. But I was naïve. There will never be a place for me in society. I'll always be the outsider. Somehow, I've made peace with my way of life. If you don't have expectations, you can't be disappointed."

"But you should have expectations. Jane, I want to be with you." I stopped and turned her toward me. The crown of her head reached my chin. Placing my hands on her cheeks, I lifted her face. Then I hesitated, unsure if she would allow me to kiss her. I felt her body soften and yield as her eyes closed and her lips parted.

"I want to be your wife, Joe!" Jane fell silent as I pressed my lips to hers. The tantalizing scent of her warm body and a hint of sage rose to my nose, almost making me drunk.

She leaned against me, kissing me back. Her hands went under my jacket and wrapped around my waist. Hot, tingling waves radiated from the spot as she stroked my back. Embarrassed, I tried to pull away, not wanting her to realize how much she aroused me. Out of breath, we parted our mouths.

Jane placed her fingers on my cheek and began stroking my skin. Her hand moved down my neck to my collarbone and slid under my shirt. "Ever since I saw you at the doctor's, I wanted to touch you," she murmured.

It took all my willpower to stop, but I wanted the first time with my girl to be perfect. My voice sounded raspy with excitement. "Let's go back. I'd better take you home."

I had thought about this for a while. Sneaking into Jane's room or taking her to the bunkhouse was out of the question. I also wanted to spare her the awkwardness of the inevitable glances when I booked a hotel room, leaving us only with a place under the open sky for our first time.

My heart still pounded fast and hard. I could not believe my luck. My fingertips brushed her soft skin and beautiful curved body, not wanting to disturb the sleeping girl. As the edge of my hand skimmed against her full breast, desire began to stir again.

Jane's breathing was calm and steady. No, I wouldn't bother her now. Try to control yourself, Cartwright. There will be many more nights together. Although I was exhausted, sleep wouldn't come. I was much too excited. We were husband and wife!

A shriveled old Bannock medicine man had performed the ceremony. I guessed he had done a little magic just for the white man to justify the price of one dollar. According to Jane, the Bannock did not have formal marriages, but receiving a blessing was important to me. Anything less would have felt wrong.

The holy man had lit a fire, sprinkled fragrant herbs into the flames, and used a dried bird's wing to wave the smoke in all four directions. Jane later translated the native words he mumbled. At the end, he wrapped a leather band around our joined hands and pronounced us man and wife.

The warm, exciting smell of woman and sex still hung in the air, and a fine sheen of sweat stuck her naked body to mine. My nose was buried in her hair, and her round buttocks pressed against my groin. I wished this moment would never end. Pulling the blanket over our shoulders, I gazed at the starry sky above. How often had I looked out of my bedroom window at these very stars and wished for an adventure? Now, I yearned to return home.

"Thank you, Mr. Ashley!" Grinning, I tucked the bundle of bills into my jacket pocket. The three hundred sixty dollars was a year's salary, and it felt good to carry it.

"Have a good trip, Joe. You're always welcome if you ever need a job again. But think carefully about taking on this problem." He nodded to Jane, who waited on her mare, a thick bundle of belongings behind her.

My gaze flitted to Jane's right ring finger, where the narrow band of silver reflected the sun's rays. "That problem, as you call it, is my wife! We had a Bannock marriage."

"Not meant to offend, boy. Settle down. I was just giving you some good advice."

"I prefer it when people don't mingle in my affairs, Mr. Ashley." I turned, untied my appaloosa, and mounted Cochise. I knew I was rude and overreacting, but I couldn't handle people's well-meaning advice. Letting the comments bounce off me would take quite a while.

"Take care, fellows! We did a good job!"

Hugh tipped his brim while Jed leaned against the bunk, arms crossed, chewing a blade of grass.

Jane and I didn't look back.

I hoped my letter would arrive before us and give Pa enough time to prepare for my new wife. I giggled at the thought of him widening his eyes and scratching the back of his head as he held the letter in his hands.

My attention was on the beautiful girl riding in front of me. Her black braids swayed in time with the canter, and her dress fluttered around her boots. She sat in the saddle with her back straight and her chin up. She turned and gave me a dazzling smile as if sensing my gaze. The sun caused sparks to dance in her deep brown eyes, and her pearl-white teeth made a perfect contrast against her tanned skin.

Somehow, we would find our way. After that summer, I knew where I belonged. My roots were on the Ponderosa, where I wanted to grow old. It would be nice to be back home again.

I wondered if Hoss and Adam had another bet on whether I'd bring home a horse or a girl. This time, they'd be surprised.

The End

The song Buffalo Gals is a traditional American song written in 1844 by John Hodges.

The story was inspired by the song "Strawberry Roan" by Curley Fletcher/ Michael Martin Murphey.