WITH BREAKFAST OVER, IT WAS time to break the wild ponies. Mark and Jones would go at it while Alma cleaned up camp and started a pot of frijoles for dinner. Leaning on the fence where they kept the horses, he glanced back at the jacal. Alma came out carrying a basket of clothes and headed down to the river. Her black hair hung in a braid against the colorful yellow blouse. In a skirt of blues and reds, she looked like a rainbow in the bright sunshine.
He was really home.
Here he would build himself a ranch. He might ought to pinch himself—make sure it wasn’t a dream.
Oh, it was real all right, and Cline was a good choice to get this done. He had a reputation for being honest. Down in his gut, Mark needed it to happen. Needed to have a new life with Alma, and Jones as well. They were a fine fit, the three of them, each one doing what the other couldn’t.
Horses whinnied and cut up behind him. He turned to make a choice for the first ride of the day. Dang, it felt good—the smell of horses and dust, the sun turning hot on his back, the thrill of the ride. He whirled his lasso into a circle, chose the high-stepping sorrel to start, and dropped the loop easily over its neck. Despite its wildness, the horse pricked his ears at the sound of Mark’s voice while he eased the saddle onto its back.
“Easy there, boy. You and me, we’re gonna have us a time, but you’ll settle.”
Rubbing the quivering neck, he placed a boot in the stirrup, easing his right leg over the sorrel’s back and coming down into the saddle. Taking a good grip with both knees, he prepared for the explosion. Before going off to shoot Germans, he’d done this for a living. Hell, he’d done it for fun, when he wasn’t picking cotton. Hooting and hollering while the crowd cheered him on—astride a stick of dynamite ready to explode. Waiting for the buzzer, knowing he’d made the eight seconds aboard chained lightning, and the crowd was going wild.
Now, it was different. Pride in what he had done so far, and hope in what was coming, rode this blamed crazy pony with him. Leaping high, coming down stiff, kicking out hind legs, the horse did everything he could to get rid of that burr stuck so good to his back. Nothing worked, so he slowed, trotted a ways, shook his head, and snorted in defeat. Trotting round and round, head held high, he acted as if the whole thing was his idea.
“You done good, you done fine.” Mark rubbed between the flicking ears and rode a while till the animal knew for sure who was boss. After a while, he dismounted and slipped the saddle off.
One hand on the taut flank, he stood there a minute, gazing down at the river where Alma washed clothes. Sunlight danced across the water, making a halo around her. Dang, he felt good. Under his breath he chuckled. He’d already told the world he felt good, but it didn’t hurt to repeat it. He straightened, turned, and picked out his next ride while Jones took a round with a sweet little dun.
That evening, they sat around the fire eating frijoles and tortillas and drinking black, scalding coffee right off the fire. Finishing her plate, Alma rose, dipped it into steaming water sitting on hot coals and moved to take the wash off the bushes where she’d hung it that morning.
“What about the big red?” Jones poured himself some more coffee to wash down the last of his supper.
“Tomorrow, I reckon. It’ll take both of us, not like settling down one of the young’uns. They ain’t got all their wild spirit yet. But him?” He shook his head in admiration. “He’s greased lightning.”
Jones nodded. “You on his back?”
The man knew Mark yearned to ride that red stallion. He’d made no bones about it, so there’d be no argument. That night, lying beside Alma snuggled into one bedroll, he went to sleep thinking about that horse. Not guns or battlefields or death, just that big wild horse and having it between his legs.
He woke up as the sun lightened the sky to the east and lay there for a while, watching blue tinges come alive above him. He eased out of the bedroll, careful not to wake Alma. Relieving himself in the brush, he imagined all the days ahead of them. Humming, he fastened his britches and gathered an armload of wood for the day’s fire. Dropping it beside the glowing coals from the night before, he grabbed a bucket and went down to the river to get water to put on the fire for washing up after breakfast.
Living out like this suited Mark okay, but he’d be glad when they built a proper house and moved up on the ranch. Alma stirred and joined him, laying kindling on the coals. He leaned toward her and gave her a kiss.
“What will you do today?” She slid the skillet onto a rock and laid bacon in it.
“Gonna break that big red stallion.”
She shook her head. “He is a big one. So pretty, but so mean.”
“He ain’t mean, just wild. We’ll take that out of him without killing his spirit. Jones is good at that. He talks to horses and they hear him.”
“Oh, and so the horse will just do what you ask?”
Mark laughed. “Well, not exactly, but he will know that we don’t want to hurt him, but simply to make him useful. He can still run when we want him to.”
“You will be his master.”
“Something like that, I guess.”
Shaking her head, she went about preparing breakfast.
What was coming with the red horse wouldn’t be any eight second joy ride. It would take both of them, him and Jones, to get this done. After breakfast, they got to it.
Left foot in the stirrup, Mark swung his other leg over and was ready for whatever the big red horse had to offer. Jones led him riding one of his stout horses. Still, it was no surprise when the wild-natured animal tried to buck him off. Jones had him snubbed tight enough on his horn so there was no head ducking allowed, and the snorting and kicking was short-lived.
It became an everyday ritual for him and Jones to get up at dawn to ride an unbroke horse snubbed to a tamed horse until all six were broke. Two of the horses were fine in no time. The others took more discipline. By about the fifth evening, it looked like they were about done. Six fine ponies stood eating hay in the corral, only spooking when startled instead of kicking up a fuss at every turn. They were good-natured, and Mark took to stopping to admire them while doing other chores.
There was wood to chop for Alma’s fire, water to carry from the creek, and of course the tending of all the stock including cutting them grass every day. It was the beginning of a good life and Alma took to it well.
On Tuesday into the second week, he and Alma went to Lehi where he made the call to Cline from the pay phone outside the store.
The man came on. “Hell, Mark, that Mayer lawyer, Hall, is talking about the Hancock Ranch like it was the King Family’s place in Texas that we’re thinking about buying.”
“Really?” He frowned at Alma standing beside him looking anxious.
“Naw.” Sam chuckled. “He can’t believe anyone wants it. We’re going to buy it if you’re damn sure you and them Injuns can make it a ranch. I don’t know you, but I know you have fought like hell for this country and never run from fire. We’ll be sixty-forty partners. But if you fail me, you lose it all.”
“I am not going to fail you, Mister Cline.” A wagon rattled by, followed by two riders. Mark held a hand over his ear to hear what the man was saying.
“No, no. If we’re partners, you call me Sam. I want you to go to Mayer for the signing of the papers when he gets them ready. For now, you go get a Kodak box camera and five or six rolls of film, go up there, and take pictures. When you get back, I’ll have them developed. You take pictures of the buildings and everything pretty, too.”
“You know we’ll have to ride in there to do that?”
“I guess. Hold on.” Sam spoke to someone else. “No, we need two running bulldozers. If one breaks down, we can use it for parts. And some diesel fuel barrels.” He came back to the phone. “Sorry, Mark. We found two bulldozers. We’re going to need them. But, yes, you ride on up.”
“Yes, sir.” He gazed at the brim of his cowboy hat. Bulldozers—wow. “Sam, I’ll get some supplies and load up some pack horses to go up there. I expect to be gone over a week before I can call you again.”
“Guess it’s the only way we can do it. Get to a phone and call me next Monday.”
“Sam, there aren’t any phone lines up there.”
“You’re right. Come back before two weeks is up—like two weeks from today—and be ready to go sign those papers. Take those pictures and bring the rolls of film to me. And try to keep all your expenses written down. I’ll reimburse you for them. Food and everything. Have you got a gun?”
“A Broomhandle Mauser pistol.”
“Find a .30-30 rifle and shells. Buy one, borrow one, whatever. Hell, up there you might find a grizzly bear.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll leave in the morning for the ranch, take pictures, shoot a bear, and be back all in ten days or two weeks.”
Alma startled when he said that. She mouthed, ”A bear?”
He chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s nothing, uh—Sam.”
“Fine. Keep all the receipts. Buy that rifle. You got the money to do that?’
“I’ll be fine on that.”
“Good, good. Mark, you be careful up there. I’m counting on this working because you’re my partner.”
“It will, Sam.”
“See you when you get back.”
“Thanks—” But he’d already hung up. He put the receiver up and stood, a little shaken. He looked over at Alma. “Let’s go sit down.”
“You look about to faint. You all right? What was that about a bear?”
“It was nothing… at least I hope not. He was teasing. It’s not that. It’s that this is really about to happen. Hard to believe we’re getting that ranch.” He hugged her. “It’s going to be a happy life.”
“I sure hope so. Maybe if you shoot that bear we can have a big bear rug for the floor.”
Both seated on the truck dock, he laughed and hugged her. “My God, Alma. I still can’t believe how you came into my life that night in Mesa. This ranch is coming the same way. Like God delivered it to me, like he did you to me.”
She smiled, pleased by his words. “What do we need to do?”
“Buy a box camera and ten rolls of film. Take pictures of everything up there. We need to go do that for him and get back in ten days. We will own forty percent of the ranch. We have an expense account and I need to buy a thirty-thirty rifle.” The words tumbled out like he couldn’t stop.
“How come?”
“He don’t want that grizzly bear to eat us up.”
“I guess I don’t either. Good idea to have a rifle.” She doubled over laughing, “What will Jones do?”
“He can come along and be a partner, too. I won’t cheat him.”
“I guess it will work. He’s having fun breaking horses.” She slanted a glance at him. “And you are, too, I think.”
She was sure right there.
A dust devil whirled across the road and between two buildings, churning up chips of wood and bits of gravel. Mark held onto his hat. “Let’s start. I want a saddle for you. I can’t go to Chandler on horseback to get mine from Dad, so let’s buy one. We can charge our needs here.”
Her feet became of great interest to her all of a sudden.
“What is it?”
“I did not mean to make you buy a saddle. That one of Jeff’s. It made me miss him, so I left it somewhere.”
“Is that what happened to it? I wondered. Don’t worry. It was yours to do with as you pleased. I’m sorry you’re still sad. Jeff was a good man and it’s too bad he was killed in the war. But you have a new life ahead of you.”
“I gave it to a man who had no money and a dumb little bony horse. Hard to ride bareback.”
“That’s a good thing to do. We have money to buy you a new one.”
“You are not mad with me?”
“Of course not. You’re my sweet girl. Don’t worry a bit. Come on, let’s get moving. We have lots to do and finding you a nice saddle is first.”
Her eyes danced. “Buying all these things. I’ve never done anything like this before. It’ll be fun.”
He hadn’t either, but he just smiled at her enthusiasm.
Mr. Wayne Pierson, who owned the store, came out on the dock to check on the weather. “Nice day.” He nodded toward them. A short, stout man in his forties, he always wore a suit and tie and polished, low-cut shoes.
“You know Sam Cline, sir?”
“Yes, I do. Mister Cline owns several farms and cotton gins. Why’s that?”
“As of ten minutes ago, I became his ranch partner. Alma and I need to go in by horseback and look at this ranch for him. We will need several things and we have his okay to charge our needs.”
“A big job, is it? Well, congratulations. That’s quite an increase in your work. My goodness. What can I get you?”
“A Kodak camera and ten rolls of film.”
“I can have them here by five o’clock. What else?”
“A .30-30 rifle.”
“I bought one a week ago. Will a used one work? It’s been well cared for.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-five?”
“That’ll do. Put two boxes of shells with it.”
“Come on inside. We can figure this out better on paper.”
He took Alma’s hand. “And this little lady needs to pick out a saddle. I’m sure you have some nice ones.”
Mr. Pierson glowed. He was making a good sale and Mark could see he was happy about it.
It was no surprise to Mark that she chose a used saddle that had been well kept. Sitting in it, feet dangling above the stirrups, she rocked back and forth. “It is more easy to ride in than a new one that needs broke in.”
He helped her down. “Then we will take this one.”
After listing the other things they would need, they left the store. An hour later, Pierson sent them to a guy’s place to pick up some packsaddles from a man who had sold them to the store keeper. His .30-30 and ammo in the wagon, they were to come back and pick up the rest in the late afternoon.
He took Alma’s hand. “Want to go and get a soda?”
“Oh, yes! I have never had this soda.”
“Well, you don’t know what you’ve been missing.”
In the Five and Dime, he went to the counter and ordered their sodas, choosing for her when she asked him to. He led her to a booth, sliding in on the red vinyl to sit on the same side as she did. He took a nickel from his pocket and set it on the table. “Put it in the jukebox. You can pick a song.”
She studied the buttons for a while, then turned to him with an abashed look on her face. “I cannot read, so you will need to pick the song for me.”
He cupped his hand under her chin. “That makes no difference to me. You are a fine cook and a good helpmate, so what does reading matter?”
He chose a Hank Williams tune for the offering and she patted her foot to the music until the sodas came.
Some of the people who came into the Five and Dime looked overlong at him and Alma. It was still not accepted by many to see mixed couples, but in Arizona, you saw it more because of the population of Indians. Mostly men with no family took what was referred to as squaws as wives or simply lived with them without marriage.
He and Alma were married, according to her, and so he accepted that as right and proper. He ignored the stares and kept talking to her to keep her from seeing it. What could really be wrong when they loved each other and helped each other? It hurt no one. He wanted to stand up and shout at those being so rude, but he held his temper. It would only hurt Alma.
Instead, he sat beside her while she drank her strawberry soda with a shudder at the first sip, then delight while she sucked it all down.
“Like it?” He couldn’t help laughing with her when she finished. He had so much fun with her because she enjoyed even the simplest of experiences.
After they finished the ice cream treats, with time to spare, he took her hand to walk along the boardwalks up one side of the street and down the other, studying the offerings in every window. She spied a blue dress in a dress shop and stopped to gaze through the glass.
He stood beside her. “One day, after we have this ranch going, I’ll bring you back here and buy you that very dress. It will look so pretty on you.”
She covered her mouth and turned to him. “Oh, that is so sweet, but you do not have to do such a thing. We will need many other things for our house.” Hand clenching her mouth, tears rolled down her cheeks. “My goodness. I did not mean… mean to say that. About us having a house on the ranch. You have not asked me to… I’m sorry.”
He touched the top of her head, ran his hand down one of the long braids and held it, unable to meet her moist stare. Lord, he didn’t like to see a woman cry. And especially didn’t like to be the cause of it. He was sorry he had never said anything to her about being his wife, but now that he was to have a divorce from Sheila, perhaps he should. It was only right. Though it was frowned upon for a white man to marry an Indian, he didn’t mind about that at all. She was beautiful and sweet and much nicer than his first wife.
“Listen to me, Alma. We will go back up there and take the pictures and let Sam do whatever he wishes. I think we will have the ranch and live there together. We will build a house and break horses and catch wild cattle and it will be a good way to live. You are with me and Jones if you wish, because you have helped every bit as much as any one of us. So, don’t you cry or worry because you will have a place with us.”
He couldn’t bring himself to ask her to marry him yet, but it looked like he might ought to do that soon. They would talk some more about it once they brought the pictures to Sam and learned his plans. Surely, they could build a house and stop living outside with Jones. Now though, he had an idea.
“When we go up to the ranch, you will need a coat and hat. So, we’ll go in the mercantile and see what they have.”
She found an unblocked hat much like his, only tan instead of black, and a long-tailed black coat of wool. “This will keep me warm no matter if it does get as cold as you think.”
He agreed and paid for the purchases out of his own pocket. Sam should not pay for this. He carried her package with the coat wrapped up inside, but she wore the hat, prancing down the sidewalk and singing in her Indian tongue. Some men stopped to watch but went on when Mark glared at them.
They got back to Jones’s jacal after sundown, which came early that late in the year. He came out with a lighted lantern and looked over it all. “What did you buy?” He nodded toward her hat. “Besides that—which makes you look very… uh, white?”
She punched him on the arm. “Be quiet or I will not make supper.”
“I suppose I could do that if I had to.”
Ignoring their bantering, Mark explained the purchases. “Our partner bought this. I bought her a hat and coat, which you will agree she deserves. We need to get up there, take pictures for him, and get back in two weeks to close the deal. By Christmas, we will own a share in the Hancock Ranch. Maybe we can celebrate both events. What do you say?”
“I say it means more damn work.” Jones grumbled and looked over the things. “You did good. You bought plenty of Oreo cookies.”
They both laughed at him. Alma ran off to cook them some supper. Jones climbed down from his perch in the wagon, checking stuff out. He hung the lantern so she could see to make food by the lamp.
“Didn’t I tell you she was a bruja?” he said in a whisper. “She found a truck. We found them horses. Now a ranch. Why, you even got rid of your dumb wife. You watch what I say, she has power.”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t give a hoot what you say about her being a witch. Have you been thinking about some boys to help us round up them cattle? Ones that will work.” He hesitated a moment. “Jones, I need to know if you are staying to help. Yes, it will be work and hard work, and you grumble every time. Do you want in on this as a partner or not? I wouldn’t want you to work yourself too hard.”
Jones grinned. “You bet I do. Pay my grumbling no mind. It is just my way. And as for boys to help, if you can do it all on horseback, I can get a shitpot load of them.”
“I want boys that will work. Carpenters to build fences and shovel horse droppings if needed too.”
“May be a bit harder, but I can find them when we get back. How much?”
“We pay fifty and found. And the first thing we’ll fix is a proper bunkhouse. One of the outbuildings can be fixed up for that. It’ll keep them and us warm in the cold.”
He nodded. “I bet we can get some good ones for that much.”
“I bet we’d better. Now let’s go eat. I figure she’s got us some supper by now.”
She had fixed them steaks and fried potatoes from the store to celebrate and looked elated about everything.
Later that night in their bedroll, she hugged him. “Thank you for what you told me today. It was a fine day, was it not?”
He put his arms around her. “Yes, it was indeed a very fine day.”
Closing his eyes brought him thoughts of the new life they could have together, and about the ranch the three of them would build and share. The good times didn’t follow him into his dreams, though. He walked in the valley of the shadows and woke in a sweat.