Two riders waited until the horse was at the far end of the corral, then nodded for the gate to be opened. When it was open, they rode inside, swinging lariats overhead. The two cowboys threw their loops at the same time, and both managed to get ropes around the horse’s neck. They stopped the horse from running, then led him over to a pole in the center where they secured him.
One of the riders looked toward Cal with a wry grin on his face.
“There he is, Cal, all calmed down for you,” he teased.
“Yeah, thanks a lot,” Cal said.
Rubbing his hands together, Cal stood there looking at the horse, which, for the moment, was relatively quiet.
“Smoke, I don’t think Cal should try to ride him,” Sally said. Sally and Smoke were both sitting on the top rail of the fence, having just returned to their positions as they had been among those who were forced to flee when the horse began its rampage.
“The horse has to be broken,” Smoke replied.
“Yes, but does it have to be Cal? Smoke, he could break his neck.”
Smoke laughed. “I see. So, what you are saying is, you would rather it be me who breaks his neck?”
“No,” Sally said. “You know I didn’t mean that. It’s just that—well, Pearlie normally did this.”
“Pearlie isn’t here now,” Smoke said. “Cal is going to have to start taking over some of Pearlie’s responsibilities.”
“I know,” Sally said. “But Pearlie is older and a little more experienced. It just frightens me to think of Cal trying to ride that horse.”
“Sally, I don’t think Cal would stop now even if I ordered him to,” Smoke said. “And I wouldn’t embarrass him by giving that order. Surely you know now that it is a matter of pride with him. You know how Cal is.”
“I know,” Sally agreed. “I just hope and pray that he doesn’t get hurt.”
Cal approached the horse, then stepped up to the horse’s head. He grabbed the horse by the ear and pulled its head down, even with his own.
“I’m going to ride you, horse,” he said. “You ain’t goin’ to like it all that much, but to tell you the truth, you ain’t got no say-so in it ’cause I’m goin’ to do it whether you like it or not. And if you think you can buck me off ’cause I ain’t Pearlie, it ain’t goin’ to gain you nothin’, ’cause I’ll just climb back on and ride you again. You got that?”
“Cal, wait,” one of the other hands called. He walked out into the corral carrying a blanket. “Let me put this over his head till you get on. Maybe it’ll calm him down a bit—at least until you are mounted.”
“All right, Jake,” Cal replied.
Jake put the blanket over the horse’s head, then looked at Cal. Cal climbed into the saddle and grabbed the hack rein.
The horse made no effort to prevent him from mounting, and Cal smiled.
“All right,” he said. “Maybe my little talk with him did some good. Untie him and let us go.”
Jake removed the blanket from the horse’s head and freed him from the hitching post at the same time. Then he moved quickly to get out of the way.
For another long moment, the horse stood absolutely still, and Cal looked over toward Smoke and Sally.
“Ha!” he shouted. “Look here! I reckon this horse knows who is boss! I had a little talk with him and— ohhhh!”
The horse exploded into energy, lifting all four hooves from the ground at the same time. When he came back down, his legs were held straight, providing no spring, so that the shock was transferred up to Cal. Then the horse started running and bucking at the same time. Cal held onto the hack rein with one hand and the night latch, which was a rope tied through the gullet of the saddle, with the other.
“Hang on, Cal!” Jake shouted.
“Ride ’im into the ground, don’t let up!” one of the other cowboys yelled.
The horse began spinning around. Then he reared up on his back legs, came back down, and kicked his back legs high into the air so that Cal was looking straight down at the ground. The horse ran toward the fence, again brushing everyone off, stopped suddenly, then kicked his back legs high into the air again. This time Cal came out of the saddle and slipped forward, managing to stop his fall only by wrapping his legs around the horse’s neck.
Finally, the horse gave up bucking and began galloping around the corral, running at full speed.
Cal took his hat off and began waving it. “Yahoo!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.
Cal stayed with him for the entire time until the horse stopped running, started trotting, then slowed to a walk. Finally, the horse came to a complete stop and just stood there, in the middle of the corral.
Cal swung down from the horse, took off the breaking saddle and harness, then resaddled and bridled him. The animal remained as docile as a plow horse. Remounting, Cal rode around the corral, acknowledging the applause of all the ranch hands. He stopped in front of Smoke and Sally, then doffed his hat and bowed.
“Bravo, Cal, bravo,” Sally said. “That was wonderful.”
“I wish Pearlie had been here to see it,” Cal said.
It had been over a month since Pearlie left Sugarloaf. In that time, he had maintained a southern drift with no particular destination in mind—only a need to continue to put distance and time between himself and the events that had led to Lucy being killed.
During his six-week-long sojourn, he had stayed no longer in any one town than he needed to—sometimes
