A Feather in the Rain (18 page)

When he'd first put Soot in the smaller pen, the colt trotted its fence with anxious mutterings and much tossing of his head. Then Jesse put Chauncy in with him and all was well.

The colt nickered as Jesse walked in to halter him. He had progressed so much faster than any horse he'd ever trained. Jesse had
but to ask and the colt would oblige. When Lamar McCarthy called to ask how Jesse was getting along with “Satan,” Jesse said, “Well, I haven't canned him yet.” He wanted to brag on him but knew he wouldn't.

Abbie had brought in the cattle and bunched them at the end. Jesse rode slowly into the herd, feeling the energy within the colt focus with aggression on the herd. He rode him two-handed in a side-pull, a simple rope noseband hung from a headstall with a rein attached to each side. A good tool for tipping a horse's nose in the direction you want to go while saving his mouth. Jesse wasn't looking for anything fancy from Soot, he just wanted him to nose around in the herd and get the feel of cutting a cow easily, without pressure and driving it away from the herd and maybe keeping it out there a little. He pushed a fat heifer out from the herd about twenty feet. Soot was on it like a shark, his connection absolute. The heifer made a move toward the herd. Soot dropped to his belly like a panther, pinned his ears, and threatened to eat the cow.

Biting isn't allowed in a cutting contest. Soot was aggressive enough to try it and Jesse knew he'd have to be quick to discourage attempts to chew on a cow and still not inhibit the colt's natural keenness. As he thought about it, the cow changed direction and before Jesse could even think to guide the colt, he'd swept an arc and dove into the cow's face like a hell-born fiend. The cow shrunk back as if it might cry. The colt's move was so quick, Jesse had to adjust his seat to catch up.

They worked four head. The colt was scary spectacular. Jesse took him off to the side and stepped down to loosen the cinches and stroke him. He wanted to leap in the air and click his heels together. Instead he whispered something private in his ear, like lovers in a crowd.

Abbie was beside herself. “Am I dreaming or did he really just do that?”

Jesse blew out a breath and just shook his head. He led him to the fence. Abbie got off her horse and followed. Her face beamed excitement. “He is unreal.”

Jesse, with a serious face deep in thought, pulled the saddle from the colt's back. “I know I'm asking the impossible, but I want you to not say anything about this colt…to anybody. Let's just keep him our secret weapon for a while…for as long as we can, anyway. Okay?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Wire staples and duct tape couldn't get that done.”

“Hey. Hey.”

“Excuse me. I lost my head. C'mon, I'll buy you lunch.”

H
e pulled up to the mailbox. His spirit lightened when he spotted the red, white, and blue priority mail package. Along with a stack of envelopes, he put it on the back seat.

“A package from Holly?” She said it with a sly grin.

He reached out and grabbed her neck in his huge hand and shook her head gently. She let it roll from side to side, frizzed curls flopping around her face and laughed.

I
t had cooled some as the sun went down. He fell into the sofa with the package on the table in front of him. He sliced through the tape and pulled out handfuls of Styrofoam nuggets. A disk of glycerin soap with a miniature Clydesdale imbedded fell out. Then a bag of popping corn, a package of licorice twists, foil-wrapped homemade chocolate chip cookies, and something in pink paper tied
with blue ribbon. It was an eagle feather wound with a leather thong at its base and a note in her unmistakable script.

“My family and I want to honor you with this eagle feather for you truly soar and carry our hearts on wings of strength. Guaranteed to be tornado proof and good medicine for new beginnings…life.”

And next to her name, the signature black shadow sketch of the raptor lifting off. Probing more Styrofoam, he retrieved a jeweler's box, containing three unique stones and a note, “Collected while Gumping on the high plains. They will bring good luck.” The last thing he pulled from the package was a neckerchief, blue and white checks with a blaze of sunflowers. It smelled of her perfume. He tied it around his neck and got up and walked around the room with no direction. He reached for the phone, picked it up, then put it back.

H
e slipped into the rumpled sheets. Okay, I've got this colt. This son of a wild mustang bitch could do it. He could go to The Futurity. He's got it. There isn't a hole in him. And if Tom Cruise were a horse, he'd want to look like Soot.

And then there is Holly Marie Bassett…

The sun was still on the other side of the world when he stepped out on the porch knowing they'd all be asleep in Colorado. He went to the barn, straight to Soot, and stood there looking at him. The colt came to him and looked back.

He decided right then, seeing deep into the soft brown eyes no longer filled with fear and anger, that Soot would go to The Futurity. The black shadow, the ignoble urchin with the looks of a movie star and an uncanny athleticism could walk away with the gold. With The Futurity only eight months away, he would have to pay a penalty nearly doubling the twenty-five hundred dollar fee. Five thousand dollars, money he didn't have.

W
hat's Gumping?” he asked, grinning at the sound of her voice.

“Well, you remember in Forest Gump how he was always running everywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I've taken to walking everywhere. I call it Gumping. Bear wants a stone fireplace. I told him about yours. So we're collecting rocks. The other day I was about two miles from our house dressed like a goofball. I'd found this neat rock. I was carrying it in front of my belly. It was huge, and I guess I had a bemused look on my face. I was in another world, just walking along carrying this thing. Suddenly, a huge fire truck pulls up along side of me. Scared me to death. I thought I was being busted for stealing a rock. One of the guys asks if I'm all right. I said, ‘Yeah, I'm fine.' He said, ‘Oh, well we just got a call that there was a strange looking woman walking along the road and someone thought you might have a problem.' I said, ‘No, I don't have a problem.' They kept looking at the rock I was carrying, the whole time. I said, ‘Thanks very much for your concern.' He said, ‘Okay, ma'am.' I know he thought I was nuts. Then they drove away. Can you believe that?” She was giggling. “So when are you coming to visit the Double Rainbow?”

“You really want me to do that?”

“Of course.”

“Your father's not gonna be waiting for me with a shotgun?”

“Yeah. I'm setting you up for an ambush.”

“I'm gonna do it. I can only come for a few days, though.”

“That's about all we could take of you.”

He chuckled with her. “You're probably closer to the truth there than you think. I'm gonna take the black colt to The Futurity.”

“Really? That is great. He's doing good?”

“He's pretty cool. We've got a lot of work to do, and only a little bit of time.”

“You'll do it. So when are you coming?”

“I'm gonna work it out. Anytime is okay?”

“Anytime.”

She told him to look for something else in the mail. At first, the thought excited him. Then he became convinced he was out of his mind. It had happened when she came through the screen door at Larry Littlefield's ranch the first time he saw her. He loved her, first sight, last sight, every sight.

A
cup of corn oil in his grain each day had brought the sundulled black hide to a luster a seal would envy. Jesse smiled in the sensuous pleasure of his hands running over the slick colt and thought of Holly with a maddening tenderness and a rage of passionate desire that made everything else pale.

There was joy in the intricacy of the relationship between him and the black. He felt that somehow his son's spirit was a part of it, part of the colt. When he was on the colt, it felt as if he had his arms around his son. He wouldn't be telling that to anybody. Well, maybe Holly.

He'd brought twenty head into the arena. Cattle, the horse, Blizzard, and the man. As he nosed the colt into the herd, he crawled under the horse's skin and felt the intense desire begin to quiver in his flesh. He hunted cattle like a lion. He was born wild and Jesse loved the wildness of him. Soot was bored with slow cattle. If one showed no real desire to return to the herd, he sank on his
hocks and danced in front of it, drawing it to him. If he forced it to make a move, he'd recklessly blow by it just enough to let the cow think it had a chance to escape, then he'd crack over his hocks and be right in its face, sinking into his stop, utterly victorious, the cow defeated. Jesse couldn't help but think the colt had done this all before, maybe in another life.

K
evin Bradley's wife Carley, a soft-spoken, southern belle from Atlanta, could ride a horse. She grew up showing jumpers that her construction mogul daddy purchased on the expensive advice of fashionable trainers.

After an hour of watching from the fence, at Jesse's invitation, she put her foot in the stirrup and climbed aboard her husband's horse. Kevin smiled up at her. “Carley, I know I'm making a big mistake. You are gonna love this.”

Jesse rode around with her while she got the feel and explained the difference between riding a cutter and a jumper. Before she could think about it, he said, “Go cut you a cow.”

While Abbie put the finishing praise to Carley, Kevin and Jesse walked toward Kevin's truck. “I knew it,” said Kevin. “You better go ahead and find Carley a cuttin' horse. Don't say anything though, I want to surprise her.”

Profit on a horse for Carley, plus training and boarding fees—minus,
of course, Abbie's ten percent—would cover the entry fee for Soot at The Futurity.

I
t was a little practice cutting, a chance for Kevin to wet his feet, for Carley to sit on one of Jesse's horses and watch. It was a good opportunity to introduce the spooky Soot to the noise, the action of cars, trucks and trailers jammed in a parking area, loudspeakers, being tied to the trailer with other horses, not too close to mares, of course. He was all flicking ears, flared nostrils, and wide-eyed.

When everyone had finished and were wetting their throats and replaying the events of the day, Jesse spoke quietly to the owner of the arena. Minutes later, he rode the apprehensive Soot into the arena and let him slowly walk around the fence as if it were a minefield, sidestepping away from the light flap of hung banners advertising feed and trucks. He rode him back and forth in front of a banner till he'd touch it with his nose and not jump back. He loped him around to loosen him up and then eased him into the herd and cut a cow. The place was mostly empty when he started. When he finished, it was mostly filled.

That night Lamar McCarthy called. The word was out that Jesse Burrell had him a colt. Excitement bubbled in Jesse's belly, a huge grin ripped across his face as he quietly said, “He might turn out to be all right.”

“All right?” Lamar had his big laugh going. “I hear he's a goddamn scorpion. I hear you're gonna have to wire his jaws shut to keep him from eating a cow.”

“Who told you all that?”

“Everybody.” Lamar was tickled. “You son of a bitch. I'm coming out to your place tomorrow. I want to see him.”

H
e stood on the platform and watched Jesse work the colt afoot in the round pen. When invited, the colt followed Jesse wherever he walked, head down, eyes soft, neck relaxed. Jesse stopped and turned to rub Soot's face then he looked up at the judge. Lamar's jaw had gone slack till he saw Jesse's eyes. He shook his head and laughed. “I'll be damned.”