by Karen Noland
Glancing in the direction of the garden, he could see Kate and Jo talking quietly together, pulling weeds. Jo was no doubt exclaiming over the tender new shoots emerging green from the dark brown earth, and planning what she would wear for the “branding party” as she called it, while Kate worked earnestly in the heat, nodding her head now and then and adding a quiet comment in between Jo’s monologues.
Luke wondered again why the two- and three-year-old colts were left to run without being saddle broke. He knew she planned to sell as many as she could to the men coming on Saturday, but he also knew that she could get a far better price for them if they were broke to ride. For such a sensible woman in most areas, this just didn’t make any sense. Sighing and shaking his head, he went to the barn for a halter.
A few minutes later he had the buckskin colt haltered and was leading him to the small round working pen near the corrals. The colt had obviously been worked with some, as he was quiet and easy to catch and lead. He had soft liquid brown eyes, a small star just off center on his forehead, and a pleasant expression about him. Luke turned the horse into the round pen, following behind with a stiff lariat in his right hand.
Removing the halter, he shooed the colt away from him and sent him out to the fence. He watched closely from the center of the pen, staying well back, but moving always toward the horse’s hip just enough to keep him moving. Soon the buckskin broke into a slow easy trot around the perimeter of the pen as Luke slapped the hard rope against his own leg and made a slight kissing sound to the horse.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Came a cold hard voice from behind him.
He turned to see Kate standing at the corral gate, hands on her hips, amber eyes flashing in anger. Luke turned his attention back to the colt, urging him forward into a faster trot. “I’m working with my horse,” he replied calmly.
“Your horse?”
“You said to pick the one I wanted. Well, there he is.” He nodded toward the trotting horse.
“I said you could pick any of the older mares or geldings. Those colts aren’t broke.”
“He will be soon enough, if you let me get back to work.”
“No.”
The tone of her voice sent a shiver through his spine. He stepped quietly toward the colt’s shoulder and said, “Whoa, boy.” The horse stopped and stood looking warily at the man, nostrils flaring, trying to fathom what would happen next.
Luke turned his attention away from the colt and walked to the gate where Kate stood motionless. An indefinable air about her made him pause. Anger flashed from her eyes, laced with fear, and - and what? He couldn’t quite grasp the emotion that emanated from her, filling her very being. His own anger dissolved as he studied her face. Reaching out, he ran his thumb down the side of her face, smoothing back a stray lock of silky brown hair with work-hardened fingers. She remained motionless, breathing rapidly, a slight quiver within her jaw, the only sign that she felt his touch.
“Kate....” he began.
She turned and fled, lifting her skirts as she ran. He watched as she disappeared into the house. Standing in the hot sun, he focused his eyes on the door, willing her to return, to come to him and lay her troubles at his feet. He wanted to be her comfort. When she did not reappear, he sighed, and returned to the pen where the buckskin colt stood patiently waiting for him.
***
Luke was breathing heavily as he watched the colt’s sides heaving in imitation of his own from the exertion. They had both worked hard over the last hour. Luke urging the young horse around the pen at a trot, then a lope, always driving from the hip, as he watched the colt intently for certain signs. When he saw the horse lower his head or lick his lips, he would step toward the buckskin’s shoulder, cutting into the animal’s path. The horse would turn on his haunches, away from the man, and reverse his direction.
As man and beast worked together, a rapport began to develop. Luke was able to control the flight with more precision. A step toward the shoulder and back, elicited a turn, but this time the turn was toward the man in a dance as old as time, movement following movement, in a complex sinuous motion, predator and prey evolving into master and willing servant. The horse began to pay closer attention to his driver. Soon Luke had the colt stopping as he moved forward and said “whoa,” in a calm steady voice.
Jon stood watching from near the corral gate. Luke had seen him take up the vantage point some time earlier, but the lad was quiet and respectful, and Luke let him watch, glad for the company.
Beast and man stood facing one another, breathing heavily in the late afternoon heat. Luke took a step towards the gate and the buckskin turned his head to follow the man with his eyes.
“Good, boy!” Luke encouraged. Another step to the gate, again the colt followed with his gaze. One more step, this time the horse swung his head back to a more comfortable position, his focus leaving the man. Luke kissed sharply slapping the riata against his leg. The colt returned his gaze to the man. Again Luke stepped toward the gate. This time the colt moved his front feet around and repositioned himself to face the man. A broad grin broke across Luke’s tired features, and he knew that he was gaining the horse’s trust and attention.
Relaxing, he motioned to Jon. “What do you think?” Luke asked
“That’s pretty amazing. What exactly are you trying to do with him?”
“Well, first, let him know that I’m the boss, but not in the way a lot of wranglers will try to do it. Some, they just get on and let ‘er rip, try to wear the bronc out of ‘em. I guess it works for some folks.”
“Yeah, so how are you telling him that you’re the boss?”
“I tell him when he can move, where he can move, and when he can stop. If you’ve ever watched a herd of horses - I mean really watched - then you’ll start to see that there’s always one ole boss mare. She tells every single member of that herd just where they can eat, when they’ll move, and so forth.”
“How?” Jon asked, puzzled.
“She does it with her body. Lay her ears back, bare her teeth, come at the horse from the hip if they don’t move fast enough. Plant a good kick on ‘em, if they dare to invade her area.” Luke laughed.
“Hmmm, now that you mention it, I guess I have seen that kind of thing. Never thought much of it, except maybe that was one mean hoss!” Jon exclaimed with a grin.
“Mean doesn’t have much to do with it. It just shows that she’s the leader, the boss. So I figure if you want to gain control of a horse, you’ve got to be just like that ole boss mare.” Luke stopped for a minute, watching the buckskin colt, whose focus was beginning to drift away. A loud kissing sound and a slap of the hard rope against his leg, and the colt’s head snapped back to attention. “A few more sessions like this, and I’ll be ready to put him under saddle.”
Jon’s eyes widened in alarm. “You ain’t really gonna ride him, are you? Does Kate know?”
“Why wouldn’t I ride him?” Luke’s exasperation broke through. “Someone’s got to break these colts. They’re all just going to waste out there, and Kate won’t get a decent price for them the way they are!” He stormed. Seeing the look on Jon’s face, he stopped. “Jon, what is it? Why won’t she do anything with them?”
“You don’t know, do you?” Jon asked quietly, his face somber.
“Know what?”
“Mr. Will was killed ridin’ the colts. Miss Kate don’t want no one doin’ that no more.”
“Oh God,” Luke exclaimed as the realization washed over him, leaving him feeling cold and empty. “Oh, God have mercy. I had no idea. No wonder....” He looked toward the house, the anguish in his soul a bitter gall, as understanding dawned within him. Looking back at Jon, he searched the fresh young face, “Jon, this is a better way. I have yet to have one even offer to buck doing it this way. Sure it takes more time, but they’re more willing, and far better trained when I do it like this.”
“It ain’t me you’ve got to convince, sir.”
***
Trembling from the fear that welled within her at the memory of Will’s final ride, and angry that Luke would defy her wishes, she spoke harshly. His response had disarmed her. His green eyes filled with concern as he drew near. At his touch, the realization struck her. She was falling in love with him. Overcome by the emotion, she fled.
“God, oh, God, I need you now. How can I love this man?” she prayed. “I don’t even know who he is.”
Confused and heavy hearted, she rose from the bed. At her dressing table, she picked up the tin type photograph of Will and herself on their wedding day. Running her fingers over the image, she caressed his familiar features. Their love had grown slowly, gaining its strength from their mutual faith in God and their trust in one another. Will had accepted her just the way she was. He found her scars a beautiful part of her.
“They are your badge of courage and honor,” he had told her one night when he found her crying over her disfigured arms. “Wear those scars proudly. They are beautiful because they show your true heart.” His words echoed through the shadows of her memory, clearing away the cobwebs of doubt, and a sense of peace descended upon her heart.
She moved to the window where delicate lace curtains hung limply in the afternoon heat. No breeze stirred, even the birds were stilled. Kate could hear the banging of pots, and slamming of cupboard doors from the kitchen. The low pitched murmur of voices and occasional giggle told her that Nana and Jo were diligently working on the preparations for the branding.
From the window, she could see Jake planning the roasting pit. The steer was to be slaughtered tomorrow. Jon already had the wood chopped and stacked neatly waiting for the pit to be dug. She smiled weakly at the everyday sights and sounds. This was her family, her life was here. What part in that did Luke play?
At the thought of his name, she looked toward the breaking pen, just visible from her window. She watched intently for several minutes. Luke worked the colt slowly and steadily. What exactly was he trying to accomplish, she wondered. She had never seen anything like the intricate maneuvers being performed by man and horse.
Kate believed in working with the foals from the day they were born, touching them, talking to them, gentling them when they were small. Then they were turned out until they were ready to break. The time she spent with the babies showed in their easy going natures, but at breaking time, it was always the same, catch them, snub them up to the post, throw a saddle on, climb aboard and ride the buck out of them. Some had more than others, and she always watched to see which of the colts and fillies were the easy ones, keeping those as potential breeding stock, and selling the rest.
Will had always taken great delight in breaking the young stock himself. Kate’s heart had paused a beat every time he climbed on one of them, but she never voiced her fears to him, sure that they were unfounded. The moment it happened, she knew that she would never allow another colt to be ridden on her place. She’d sell them unbroke, even if it meant losing money on them. She knew the breeding and cow sense on her colts was enough to build a reputation, let someone else take the risk on their backs.
Her anger subsided as she watched Luke and the buckskin from her bedroom window. Interest in his methods intrigued her in spite of her fears. She could see the tension leaving the horse as trust began to replace the fear evident in the animal’s bearing. She remained at the window until Luke took the colt out of the pen and lead him into the barn.
Curiosity overcame her. She let herself out through the front door so as not to disturb Nana and Jo, and walked to the barn her heart pounding in rhythm to her quick strides.
Through the open door, she could see Luke standing at the horse’s shoulder. His back was turned toward her, but she could hear the soothing sound of his low-pitched voice as he spoke to the buckskin. He brushed the gleaming coat with long sweeping strokes, working in a steady rhythm. The horse stood in docile repose, head low and relaxed, his eyes half closed listening to the man murmuring beside him, calmed by the gentle stroking.
Kate leaned against the rough wooden frame of the barn. The western sun cast its rays through the window in the loft. The dapple of golden light and purple shadow across the man and colt blended them into a picture of perfect harmony.
She watched as Luke continued his gentling process. He ran one hand firmly down the length of the colt’s front leg, then went back to the grooming. The horse picked up his head, and flinched slightly at the unfamiliar touch. After Luke repeated the action several times, the buckskin accepted it as natural and returned to a relaxed state. He began the same motion on a rear leg, but the colt hardly seemed to notice it this time.
Pausing for a moment, Luke rested his forehead against the colt’s flank. The rough muslin shirt he wore clung damply to his back following the curves of muscles built and strengthened by years of hard labor. His skin was bronzed by the sun, and his dark hair gleamed in the evening light showing golden glints throughout. Kate watched silently, drinking in the sight of him, her senses filled to overflowing. The scent of sweat and sweet hay mingled together, tickling her nose, as the sun warmed her back and a gentle breeze stirred her hair. A dove cooed softly from the rafters, and Raven nickered to her from his stall.
“Luke?” Though little more than a whisper, the word rang loud in her ears as anticipation knotted her stomach.
The buckskin raised his head and twitched his ears in her direction, and she could see Luke’s shoulders tighten as she spoke.
“Luke, I wanted to - to apologize.” Kate waited. There was no response, though she sensed a change in him. “We need to talk.”
When he turned to face her, his green eyes were filled with compassion and wet with unshed tears. “You don’t owe me an apology, Kate. I had no idea. Jon told me.” His voice thick with emotion.
Kate’s heart pounded. Her eyes riveted on his as she struggled to gain control of her emotions. In two quick strides he was standing before her, clasping both of her small hands in one of his. She caught her breath and her nostrils filled with his earthy scent. He traced the line of her jaw with one finger, cupping her cheek gently in the palm of his hand he drew her to him, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. She closed her eyes and drew in a shuddering breath as she laid her head on his shoulder and felt his arms go around her in a warm, protective embrace.
***
“Momma? Momma, where are you? Nana says to come to supper.” Jo’s voice called from the garden moments later.
Loosening his embrace, Luke stepped back. Kate’s head remained bowed, her eyes closed. Reaching out, he lifted her chin with his finger. As her eyes met his, she smiled a beautiful, radiant smile that cast all doubt from his mind. Swallowing hard, he reached out and took her arm to escort her to dinner.
“What about your horse?” she asked, indicating the buckskin still standing quietly tied to the rail.
The words ‘your horse’ struck home and he smiled. “He’ll be fine for now. We’ll come out later and see to him.”
Chapter eleven
Kate watched Jonathan lead his old sorrel mare into the barn in the dim light of dawn. Smokey padded silently behind, faithful to his young master. Rio and Gypsy stood at the corral fence, saddled for the round up. They waited patiently, ears twitching at the sounds of morning, occasionally swishing a tail at the ever present flies.
Jon prepared to heave his ancient leather saddle on the mare’s back, when Kate stepped out of the shadows and laid a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you turn old Sally out. She deserves a rest after all the years she’s put in.” Kate could see the crestfallen look on Jon’s face. “I think today would be the perfect opportunity to try out your new horse,” she added quickly, as Luke entered the b
arn leading a small bay gelding and handed the lead to Jon.
The boy’s eyes shone brightly as he struggled for words. “You mean, he’s mine, Miss Kate? All mine? Really mine?”
“I thought it was about time you had a good cow pony of your own. After all, Sally has been hauling you around most of your life, and she wasn’t young when she started doing that. I think it’s time she earned her retirement, don’t you?”
Jon spoke not a word as he ran his hand over the gelding’s coppery coat, fingering the silky ebony mane.
“He’s about ten or eleven, we’ve used him before on the ranch here, maybe you remember Will riding him for a couple of years?” Kate continued.
“Yes, ma’am, I do. He’s a fine horse. Does he have a name?”
“Funny thing, we always just called him Jesse’s bay colt, because we bought him from Jesse McDonald, do you remember him?”
“I think so. Isn’t he the man that ‘steaded the quarter section down south, then sold out to Mr. Will the year after?” Jon asked.
“That’s right. What do you think you’ll call him?”
“Well, maybe I’ll jest call him Jesse since he probably already knows that.”
“Jesse it is then.” Kate said.
Leaving the boy to saddle his horse, she took Sally and turned her out to the tall grass pasture. Luke joined her at the gate, and they stood together watching the old mare trot out and flag her tail like a filly with the scent of new grass filling her nostrils for the first time.
“She deserves this. That old mare has hauled him around faithfully for the last ten years. Why, I’ll bet she’s twenty-five years old or better.” From the corner of her eye, Kate could see Luke watching her and shaking his head. “What?”
“I still can’t get used to the sight of you in mens’ clothes,” he said with a grin.