You wranglers come and go and think you know everything, but youll see that Im right. The only way to handle a beast like that is with a bullet. The old man shook his fist, as if in warning, or as if casting a curse, and then hobbled through the lit doorway and into the shadows of the bunkhouse.
The man was alone in the yard, standing with his shoulders broad, feet planted and the rifle in hand.
A dangerous man. Fear caught in her chest, watery and weak. Tonight, hed made the choice of protecting the stallion.
The old man had called him a wrangler. He must be the new horseman her stepfather had hired some time back. Katelyn had overheard him discussing it more than once. He was a drifter by the sound of it, a man said to have been everywhere, done everything and have a rare touch with horses. It was rumored he had Indian blood in his veins.
The wind shifted. The shadows deepened. Katelyn felt the horsemans gaze shift to her and focus with the same threat as if hed loaded the rifle and aimed it straight at her heart. The hair prickled on the back of her neck. Her flesh rose in goose bumps as the night expanded around her.
The stars seemed to snuff out one by one until there was only the two of them. The powerful, intimidating man with a rifle and her, in her housecoat and slippers. If he was a dangerous man, she was alone with him. Perhaps that wasnt the wisest course. She could simply turn around and scurry back the way shed come.
She took a step back, knees weak. Scurrying wasnt as simple as she first thought. The pain was worse, knifed down her legs in fine, cold slices. Maybe shed stand here and rest up before heading in.
The man was staring at her. He looked like trouble. Although she could not see his face, there was something about him. Something raw and mighty, as if he were made of iron and not flesh and blood.
He stood in the faint shadows. The light gilded the broad strength of him, but his face remained in darkness.
She did not doubt his would be a hard face, one weathered by time and sun and violence. But why would such a man save a wild animal?
The stallion was calling again, pawing at the closest stable. He bugled a sharp protest. What was he doing? Then a gentle nicker answered from inside the stable.
The stallion lifted his head high and arched his proud neck. As if showing off for the mare, he pranced the length of the paddock. The fading starlight worshiped him, glinting like precious silver dust on the graceful line of his back and shoulders. A dream come true.
No man was a dream. Disenchanted, Katelyn turned away. Her uneven steps crackled through the frozen grasses loudly enough to pinpoint her location. The night silenced-even the wind fell still-and she felt the horsemans presence as surely as the icy ground beneath her feet.
Something touched her cheek. Feather soft. Brief. Abrupt. She jumped, the fight rising up in her like a storm. She was alone. There was no danger as a second snowflake brushed the tip of her nose. A third caught on her left eyelash.
She felt foolish for being so jumpy. All around her was the whir of a million snowflakes, tumbling from the sky to tap against the ground. They filled the silent night like a symphony and softened the darkness.
There was the horseman. He was more than shadow now, and close. Too close. He was four fence posts away, leaning on the corner post without hat or coat. The stolen rifle rested against the long length of his thigh. He looked invincible standing there like a warrior of old.
It was the horse he was after. Not her. Katelyn stopped, grateful for the chance to catch her breath. She was quaking from fear and cold, but she could not tear her gaze away from the man, barely visible in the dark as he braced both forearms against the top rail.
Hello, boy. When he spoke, it was like harmony, low and sure and true. Lookin to go courtin, are you? Youre out of luck tonight, man. The stables locked up tight.
Katelyn couldnt believe her eyes. The stallion stopped pawing the ground and stilled. He swung his big head to stare at the man who dared to talk to him. The stallions ears pricked as he scented the stranger, then he snorted in obvious disdain of the human.
The man didnt seem offended by it. Folks tell me they call you the devil for a reason.
The stallion bared his teeth and laid back his ears in answer.
I see. Youre a tough one. Me, too, so I understand. The easy friendliness in the mans voice and posture remained. It isnt often a man comes across a mustang like you. Those are pretty distinct markings you have. Do you know how valuable that makes you?
I see. Youre a tough one. Me, too, so I understand. The easy friendliness in the mans voice and posture remained. It isnt often a man comes across a mustang like you. Those are pretty distinct markings you have. Do you know how valuable that makes you?
Five hundred gold eagles, called another mans voice from the direction of the bunkhouse. Another one of the hired hands.
That seemed to get the horsemans attention. Why? Is he someones lost horse? Is there a reward on him? He looks wild to me.
Cal Willman wanted him caught and broke to ride. A stallion with markings like that would be worth something in stud fees, even if he is a cayuse. That horse put up a fuss and killed Old Petes son before he broke free and took a few prized Arabians with him. Cost Willman a bundle, Ill tell you. Near about ruined him, far as anyone can tell. He fired a whole bunch of us, and weve been runnin this place with just a few hands ever since.
Wonder if Willman still has that reward out for him, one of the hired men asked. Reckon we can collect on it?
What do you mean we? the other ranch hand argued. Id like that money for myself.
So, thats why my stepfather sold the house in town. Curious, she couldnt help creeping through the shadows and swiping the snow from her eyes, edging close enough to better hear what the men where saying.
But it was the horseman her eyes strayed to. The way he remained motionless, snow accumulating on his dark locks, the width of his shoulders, his attention trained on the wild horse, his focus never wavering.
Hes going to catch the stallion. But how? If the animal had leaped into the paddock, he could easily leap out before he could be cornered. The fence could not hold him. What could? The magnificent beasts hooves beat out a swift rhythm along the length of the stable, as if he knew it, too, and he wasnt afraid.
Run, she silently pleaded. Run while you can. The stallion skidded to a halt, shaking the snow from his coat. He turned to face the horseman, nose up, ears forward, nostrils flaring wide to scent the man who watched and waited.
We are going to be partners, you and me. The horsemans promise made the men behind him guffaw.
Keep on dreamin, Hennessey, one of the men called. Youre not man enough to get your hands on that big fat reward. Bet youd like to.
I wouldnt mind if I did. It wouldnt matter if I didnt. The horseman climbed onto the rail and eased down into the paddock. He approached the stallion slow and sure, like a predator stalking his next meal, confident of the outcome. You are a handsome one, arent you, boy?
The stallion nickered, a low warning sound that sent shivers down Katelyns spine.
Weve got lassos ready, one of the ranch hands said as he led the others toward the fence. Stand back, Hennessey. Let the real cowboys take care of this one.
Fine, Ned, but you boys will scare him off. The horseman lifted a coiled whip from his belt. Go ahead. You catch him. Ill just lean back, take a few minutes to rest and watch you rope him in. It shouldnt be too hard for a seasoned wrangler like you.
Youre a son of a bitch, Hennessey. There isnt a horse I cant break. Ned crawled through the fence, then shook out his lasso.
Dillon Hennessey had learned long ago how to manage fools like Ned Ritter, so he was careful not to let anger get the best of him. He had a quick trigger when it came to the way men treated horses. It was just the way he was. He believed in respecting animals.
And women, too.
Hed noticed her before tonight. What man wouldnt? Hed caught sight of her in the windows of the house, quiet and pale and moving slowly, as if in pain. Shed lost a child. That was hard on a woman. He could understand that.
What he couldnt understand was why any man would have set her free.
She was beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman hed ever laid eyes on. She was delicate, refined and as fragile as those china dolls hed seen in the store window in town. She was far too fine for the likes of him. Why are you even looking at her, Hennessey?
Because while he tried his best to make wise decisions, he made mistakes. And watching the owners daughter out of the corner of his eye had to be the worst mistake a man like him could make.
Youre spookin him, Ned. Dillon couldnt believe his eyes. What were the four men going to do? They could toss all the rope in the county around that studs neck, and it wouldnt do any good. They couldnt hold him.
The truth was, nothing could hold that horse.
Nothing except his loyalty. A stallion like that one decided if hed trust a man or not. That was the secret to dealing with difficult animals. That, along with no small bit of kindness, did the trick.
It was a secret Ned didnt seem to know as he tossed the fat noose through the air. The hemp smacked the horse in the head.
With one great shake, the stallion knocked the rope aside. Another sailed through the air and he pivoted, a blend of shadow and substance, and fled.
I got him! I got him! Ned braced his stance and whipped the lasso tight.
Hold on, Ned! the hands advised.
This ought to be good. Dillon settled back to watch, wondering how long Ned would last. Thirty seconds at most. The stallion bunched up into a powerful jump that sent him sailing like Pegasus himself over the fence railing, hauling Ned into the fence with a crash.
Neds groan of pain was followed by a long string of vile curses as the end of the rope sailed out of sight along with the horse. The stallion returned to his herd of mares and galloped for the foothills of the Big Horn Range, until there was nothing but the faint drum of their hooves. Then nothing but wind and storm.