“Not you, young’un.” A heavy-set man in bad need of a shave and a bath glanced down at the boy. “Mr. Charles Goodnight.”
Farther along the railing, near the gate, a tall fellow with short-cropped dark hair, close-set eyes, and a goatee stepped forth. “I’ve already got all of the horses I need for the day, Gary. That blue looks too chunky for my taste.”
“Don’t know what you’re missing, Goodnight.” Gary spat a chaw of tobacco to the ground from his perch.
Goodnight saluted. “I have to leave you one good horse.”
One good horse? Hopefully, more than that and not the one in the ring. Ben aimed to place a saddle on an animal of his own today and trail his rented horse behind him on the way home. What if he volunteered to ride the blue? He’d practically livedin the saddle during the summer campaigns in the war. Dealt with many an ornery horse. But he had never broken a spirited, wild one like this. And all of that was before Andersonville and laudanum had eaten him inside out.
“Jones.” Gary jabbed his finger toward a younger fellow with slicked-back hair. “Bring Ginger out.”
“Yes, sir.” Jones slipped down off the railing. “Should I saddle her?”
“No need. We’ll tie the blue up to her tail, nice and tight, not much wiggle room. He’ll have another thought coming when he goes to chin the moon. A horse can’t buck if he can’t lift his head.”
Jones jogged toward the stable.
Harry called out, “Maybe now, Charlie will be brave enough to ride her.”
“You ought to do it, Harry,” another cowpoke suggested.
“I’m not riding that beast.” Harry backed up a step.
“Don’t get your feathers in a ruffle.” Gary jabbed his thick hands to his hips. “My boy will do it.”
A sandy-haired boy sprang off a crate. “Pa. Not the blue.”
A murmur went up amongst the men.
Eyes wide, Charlie wiggled up from his lookout. “He’s going to make the boy do it?”
“We’ll see.” Ben frowned at the man on the wagon.
Gary puffed out his chest. “My boy’s broke a dozen horses with a bronc tied up to Ginger or one of the other mares. Simmons, throw a saddle on the blue.”
The blue, as if he could hear every word, galloped to the far end of the corral and returned at a charge. Dust flew beneath his pounding hooves.
Jones returned with a chestnut American Saddlebred mare, and Simmons lugged a saddle, neither of them going fartherthan a few feet beyond the gate, as if they were afraid the horse might charge like a bull.
Gary hopped down from the wagon. “I can see I’m going to have to saddle him myself.” He waved toward Tyler. “Come on, boy. You got some riding to do. Show these men up.”
“But Pa…” Tyler dragged his feet. “Please. I can’t.” Tears filtered down his cheeks.
The blue snorted and pranced out of reach.
Ben flexed his hands. He could volunteer and save the young’un.
Charlie tugged on Ben’s sleeve. “He’s scared. I…I think I could do it. His pa shouldn’t make him.”
“You’re a brave boy, but you’re staying put.” Ben gripped his shoulder and whispered, “I could go.”
Cora shot him a wide-eyed glare. “Absolutely not. Neither of you.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “I’ll do as I see fit.”
Gary grabbed ahold of the blue’s halter. “Tyler, get over here?—”
“I’ll do it.” Goodnight stepped forward. “Only leave Ginger out of it. I’ll show the blue what he’s made for.”
