bed."
Landers shrugged and fetched two cups of coffee, leaving the pot on the counter for someone else to wield. After a large and greasy breakfast, Jase dissuaded the boy from any further labor.
It was time for him to learn to ride.
The gelding was a short, sturdy gray mustang with a definite mulish look to him. The owner fit a similar description. He was asking forty dollars. Jase talked him down to twenty-five, then spent another twenty-five on a saddle, bridle and saddlebags. The tack he bought used from the livery owner. With a little dickering, Jase managed to get him to throw in a saddle blanket.
Throughout this procedure, the boy stood out of the way, in awed silence. His expression was one of near panic.
"Stop gaping and saddle his horse," Jase ordered.
"S-sir, I c-can't―"
"Sure you can. You seem to have made stable work a part- time career. Next to clearing tables, that is."
He looked down at Landers and could almost see the mental calculations the boy was making. Fifty dollars was a lot of money. A month's pay for a Ranger. Mucking stables, the boy might make that in four.
"Don't fret it," Jase added. "You take care of that horse and I'll get my money back for it in El Paso. Now hoof it!"
Within an hour of trying to teach Landers how to ride, he started to wonder if he shouldn't trade the saddle tack in on a buck-board. It wasn't that the boy was slow-witted. Far from it. All things considered, Landers learned fast.
Blame, Jase had to admit, lay partly at his own door. To him, riding was as natural as walking. He took most of what he knew for granted. That didn't make him an ideal teacher. Nor did it help that they were drawing an audience. The livery owner had cleared a corral for them. Bit by bit, the fence started filling up with folks who had nothing better to do on a sultry Friday morning.
Most just watched for a time and moved on. Some cheered, while others taunted the boy. The worst ones shouted well-meaning but contradictory words of advice.
Then there was the horse. The beast didn't just look mulish. He had a temperament to match. With more intelligence and malice than Jase had ever thought a horse could possess, this one did his best to make things even more difficult for the boy.
Jase was losing his patience.
When Landers tried to pull the horse to a stop, the animal bucked hard and the boy was thrown over his head.
Jase jumped between the gray and the boy. "You!" He pointed at one of the cowboys. "Get the horse!"
Two men jumped off the fence. One took Jase's position as block. The other grabbed the reins and let the beast know who was boss.
Jase went to help the boy.
"I'm okay," Landers said in a shaky voice.
He waved off Jase's help, stood and brushed the dirt from his trousers. With a stubborn gleam in his eye, he marched up to the now calm horse. Grasping the bridle, he pulled the gray's head down to look him in the eye. "I've had enough. Your name is Trouble, 'cause that's all I've had from you. From now on, you better behave or I will personally slice you into horse steaks."
Fascinated, Jase and the cowboys watched Landers. Still glaring, the boy took the reins and walked around to the right side. As though hypnotized, the horse maintained eye contact until he had reached the limits of his neck's ability to twist.
Then Landers shortened the reins and with only a little awkwardness, mounted. The boy turned Trouble and walked around the corral's edge. Cautiously, he changed the pace to a trot.
"That's an old Injun trick," one of the cowboys said.
"What?" the other asked. "Mounting on the wrong side or threatening to make dinner out his horse?"
"Both," Jase interrupted. "Show's over."
The cowboy nudged his friend. "Come on, you can buy me a beer."
Jase's gaze returned to the boy on the horse. It wasn't the most graceful riding he'd ever seen, but at least the kid kept his seat.
When Jase announced it was time to eat, Landers almost fell out of the saddle. It seemed his
Landers shrugged and fetched two cups of coffee, leaving the pot on the counter for someone else to wield. After a large and greasy breakfast, Jase dissuaded the boy from any further labor.
It was time for him to learn to ride.
The gelding was a short, sturdy gray mustang with a definite mulish look to him. The owner fit a similar description. He was asking forty dollars. Jase talked him down to twenty-five, then spent another twenty-five on a saddle, bridle and saddlebags. The tack he bought used from the livery owner. With a little dickering, Jase managed to get him to throw in a saddle blanket.
Throughout this procedure, the boy stood out of the way, in awed silence. His expression was one of near panic.
"Stop gaping and saddle his horse," Jase ordered.
"S-sir, I c-can't―"
"Sure you can. You seem to have made stable work a part- time career. Next to clearing tables, that is."
He looked down at Landers and could almost see the mental calculations the boy was making. Fifty dollars was a lot of money. A month's pay for a Ranger. Mucking stables, the boy might make that in four.
"Don't fret it," Jase added. "You take care of that horse and I'll get my money back for it in El Paso. Now hoof it!"
Within an hour of trying to teach Landers how to ride, he started to wonder if he shouldn't trade the saddle tack in on a buck-board. It wasn't that the boy was slow-witted. Far from it. All things considered, Landers learned fast.
Blame, Jase had to admit, lay partly at his own door. To him, riding was as natural as walking. He took most of what he knew for granted. That didn't make him an ideal teacher. Nor did it help that they were drawing an audience. The livery owner had cleared a corral for them. Bit by bit, the fence started filling up with folks who had nothing better to do on a sultry Friday morning.
Most just watched for a time and moved on. Some cheered, while others taunted the boy. The worst ones shouted well-meaning but contradictory words of advice.
Then there was the horse. The beast didn't just look mulish. He had a temperament to match. With more intelligence and malice than Jase had ever thought a horse could possess, this one did his best to make things even more difficult for the boy.
Jase was losing his patience.
When Landers tried to pull the horse to a stop, the animal bucked hard and the boy was thrown over his head.
Jase jumped between the gray and the boy. "You!" He pointed at one of the cowboys. "Get the horse!"
Two men jumped off the fence. One took Jase's position as block. The other grabbed the reins and let the beast know who was boss.
Jase went to help the boy.
"I'm okay," Landers said in a shaky voice.
He waved off Jase's help, stood and brushed the dirt from his trousers. With a stubborn gleam in his eye, he marched up to the now calm horse. Grasping the bridle, he pulled the gray's head down to look him in the eye. "I've had enough. Your name is Trouble, 'cause that's all I've had from you. From now on, you better behave or I will personally slice you into horse steaks."
Fascinated, Jase and the cowboys watched Landers. Still glaring, the boy took the reins and walked around to the right side. As though hypnotized, the horse maintained eye contact until he had reached the limits of his neck's ability to twist.
Then Landers shortened the reins and with only a little awkwardness, mounted. The boy turned Trouble and walked around the corral's edge. Cautiously, he changed the pace to a trot.
"That's an old Injun trick," one of the cowboys said.
"What?" the other asked. "Mounting on the wrong side or threatening to make dinner out his horse?"
"Both," Jase interrupted. "Show's over."
The cowboy nudged his friend. "Come on, you can buy me a beer."
Jase's gaze returned to the boy on the horse. It wasn't the most graceful riding he'd ever seen, but at least the kid kept his seat.
When Jase announced it was time to eat, Landers almost fell out of the saddle. It seemed his
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