Sparrow saved Luke’s old ride, Sprite, from an auction house, and it was awful for him.
“I thought you hated going to those places?”
“I do,” Sparrow says solemnly. “But sometimes I just get the feeling that I have to go, that there’s something that needs to be rescued.”
I wipe away happy tears and hug both of them.
I check the saddle and make a few adjustments on the stirrups, where I notice several long scars across her flank. The telltale marks of a bullwhip and a cruel owner.
“Do these scars still hurt her?”
Sparrow shakes his head. “I've been working with her. She used to be very reactive if you touch them, but now she has no reaction at all.”
Whoever had her before is damn lucky that those auctions are anonymous. Damn. Fucking. Lucky. If Sparrow’s expression is any indication, I’d hafta wait in line to beat the piece of shit who did this to her.
It takes me a second to figure out the logistics of getting into the saddle, but once I’m up, I let out a long, low whistle. “Shit, this really is high up.”
“Are you sure it’s not too high?”
Luke’s concern is endearing as hell.
“I already said—no such thing.” Taking a moment to look around, I let out a low whistle. “Damn, it’s beautiful out here.”
Luke smiles, proud of what they’ve accomplished. “Thanks, friend.”
Sparrow gestures for my keys. “Figured you'd want to ride her over instead of taking her in the trailer.”
I nod and fish the keys out of my pocket, throwing them to Sparrow. Luke, ever the competitor, pulls them out of the air with a grin. “Race you?”
I shake my head. “I’ve got a great shortcut. You’ve got no shot.”
Luke jumps in my truck while Sparrow goes to his. They’re quick to get started, but they’ve gotta take the long way around using the paved roads.
I click at my new companion. Sparrow’s trained her well, and we move together beautifully as we make our way to the back gate.
Once I’ve made it onto Rebel Sky property, I let her stretch her legs until we run into Abel and Warwick on the ATVs.
I hesitate for a moment, not sure how she’ll respond to motorized vehicles, but this stately lady keeps her cool.
“Holy shit, dude. Didn't know they had a horse big enough for you,” Abel says, cracking up.
Rubbing my belly, I give it right back to him. “Don't hate the player. Hate the game.”
Wick's eyes rove over my horse and me. “That mare is a thing of beauty, and you riding her is perfection.”
He gets out of his ATV and approaches us. Once Abel’s out of earshot, he whispers, “It’s too bad you snuck out of bed in the middle of the night. I woke up with a boner that had your name all over it.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Sorry. Had a ton of shit to do, but it was hard to leave a warm comfy bed.”
“Just the bed?” he asks, smacking my thigh.
I know he doesn't mean anything by it, but a little part of me is glad to know he at least missed waking up next to me.
“So, what’re y’all doing out here?” I ask, avoiding his question.
Wick scans the fields around us. “Wesley’s missing. At first, we thought Sisko’d let him out, but that troublemaker’s still in his stall.”
Just as he’s saying that, I spy a spindly black silhouette out of the corner of my eye. Wesley, our runaway colt.
