Suddenly, he realized he was trembling slightly. He moved the horse between him and Smith so his shaking would be unnoticed by the young cowboy. Cinching up, he stepped into the saddle and fixed his feet in the stirrups. They were slightly too short so he dismounted and set them to his riding length. Once more he stepped back up into the saddle and settled himself. His heart was now beating rapidly and he could feel the sweat on the back of his neck and underneath the brim of his hat. Gently picking up the reins and getting them to the correct length, he eased himself forward and clicked to the colt. The young horse moved off effortlessly at a steady walk around the edge of the arena with his head low, chafing on the bit contentedly.

    From an onlooker’s point of view, he looked calm and collected, but inside Tyler found it difficult to conceal the exhilaration and excitement the moving horse gave him, he was back in the saddle and doing what he loved best.

    As he walked the horse around the outskirts of the arena his thoughts went to Sam, Marcy, his father and Bill.  Before he realized it, he was wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Under his breath he murmured “thanks” to no one in particular.
    Clicking softly and squeezing slightly with both legs, the young horse went into a jog and he finally felt at home once more. For the next 45 minutes, he put the colt through some various routines, not pushing or forcing. His only goal was to see how the horse reacted without force. Within the first five minutes he knew that the colt was hard in the mouth. He cursed softly again to himself. He also knew that this was an above average colt, but the mouth was always going to be a problem; yet, it was not unfixable. After some runs downs and stops, he realized the colt had a stop problem as he had the tendency to go wide with his back legs.  Perhaps that could be fixed with some innovated work by the smithy, but he doubted it. It was the horse’s natural build, and with the hooves pointing outwards like they did, he doubted if the changing of plates would add a plus one to his stops.
    Sweat poured down inside his shirt, his hat was glued to his head, and his shirtsleeve was wet from rubbing his eyes. His ass felt like it was on fire, and his thighs felt as if someone had been pulling them apart. He sighed with satisfaction and decided enough was enough for today. Tomorrow he would take two of the other colts, and over the upcoming weeks his plan was to get some miles in the saddle. The feel, the touch and the patience hadn’t lost him, but his ass sure needed extra saddle time.  He didn’t say anything to Smith during his ride or ride in his direction in the arena because conversation would have been required. He didn’t want to talk to Smith right now; that would come later.
    Tyler stepped off and loosened the cinch patting the colt softly.
    “Good boy, you done good,” he said softly, and began walking around the arena leading him slowly. He was half ways around when suddenly Lenka appeared carrying a halter. She smiled broadly.
    “I’ll take him from here if it’s okay?”
    “Thanks,” he replied, “Don’t forget 3 o'clock.”
    “I won’t,” she said as she slipped the snaffle out of the horse’s mouth and hung it on the saddle horn. Then sliding the halter gently over his head, she led the colt around the arena watching Tyler with appreciative eyes as he walked toward the exit.



A Cowboy saw Beauty

    At the same instant, appearing peripherally in his vision was a drunken cowboy also walking and weaving toward the bar’s entrance.  The cowboy walked with his head down, seeing nothing until he came dead against Alanna van Rijn. He stopped, straightened, and gave her a long stare. Tyler moved towards the scene.

    Alanna was saying something to the cowboy. Tyler could see her lips move under the parking area lights. Then the cowboy reached out and caught her by the arm. Tyler lit into a dead run where his momentum carried him and the cowboy up against the arena wall.
    Grabbing the cowboy by the coat collar he swung at him arm’s length in a wide circle, bracing his feet as he turned and flung the cowboy once again hard against the wall.
    The cowboy’s head slammed the wall and then he whirled and struck out with both hands catching Tyler in the face and belly. Tyler came against him again, shoving him back to the wall with his shoulder. Suddenly, Smith appeared beside him. He got beside Tyler and landed a blow on the cowboy’s unprotected face, crying,
    “I’ll show you what happens to a drunk who tries to molest.”
    Tyler turned and put the flat of his hand against Smith’s chest, the force of the blow knocking Smith off his feet into the dust and horse manure. The cowboy, meanwhile free, cut into Tyler wildly with his fists. Tyler lifted his shoulder and used the flat of his hand on the cowboys face, batting the cowboy’s head against the wall until the man’s eyes began to dull up. He stepped away and jammed his left fist into his midriff, doubling the cowboy over, which set his head up into the perfect position as Tyler smacked the cowboy once more hard on the jaw with his right hand and watched him fall to the ground motionless.
    Tyler stepped away. Wind drew in and out of him, deep, and even while he waited, he showed no anger or excitement. Smith stood at the edge of one of the trailers.
    “What’d you do that for?” he said. “I was only giving you a hand.”
    The fallen cowboy was now trying to stand up, once drunk he was now good and sober. Tyler picked up his hat and handed it to him. Then fixing up his coat around him he turned the cowboy and put a hand against his back.
    “Get outta here and don’t go back to the bar,” said Tyler.
    “What are you doing? said Smith. “He tried to grab Mrs. Van Rijn for Christ sake. You can’t just send him away.”
    “He was drunk, and there’s no harm done, nothing has happened to her,” said Tyler turning towards Alanna van Rijn. She had shown no surprise, no panic. She stood calmly back from the scene, a woman seemly wise in the ways of men and the influence of drink on men. She was dressed in a light blue skirt on knee length leather boots with a high heel. Covering her white low open necked blouse was a light tan jacket. Her hair was loose and flowing.  She met his glance in a full way, self- assured. Her lips were red and expressive.
    “Why did you rough him up so bad?”
    “Maybe teach him a lesson.”
    “Why did you let him go off then? “
    “The fault was not entirely his.”
    “What’s that?” shouted Smith.
    “Why wasn’t it? Alanna asked, now trying to probe in to Tyler’s mind.
    “The cowboy came across the parking lot with his head down. Then he looked up and saw something in front of him. He knew he was drunk and didn’t believe what he saw. So he put out his hand and touched you.”
    “What did he think he was seeing,” asked Alanna
    “What does a young thirsty healthy man want to see?” asked Tyler.
    Tyler pulled out his papers and tobacco and rolled a cigarette watching her evenly. Lighting his cigarette, he watched the exhaled smoke spiral into the night air; he saw her head lift.
    Her words held a sort of a faint scorn.
    “What was it then?”
    “Beauty,” he said
    Even in the semi darkness he saw the color rise in her cheeks and her lips parted slightly. Her head rose.
    “Well, did he see it, or didn’t he?
    “Dunno, I forgot to ask him,” replied Tyler dryly.
    She turned quickly towards Smith.
    “Ben, would you please walk me to the bar, I expect Klaas is already up there by now wondering where I am and what’s keeping me.”
    Without waiting for an answer, she hooked her arm through Smiths and started for the bar.
    “Smith?” said Tyler
    “What?”
    “Don’t you ever interfere with me again if and when I am in such a situation?”
    “I was only trying to help,” said Smith.
    “Don’t.”
    Just before they started to climb the steps towards the bar, Alanna turned back and Tyler received the full impact of her eyes. He held her complete attention and during that moment he saw her as the cowboy had seen her, the beautiful shape and dream of beauty. She was beautiful, but made up of many contradictions. She could be silent, reluctant for attention unsure of her herself preferably remaining in the background and away from the limelight. Then on other occasions, she wanted the limelight and her self-assurance and beauty held her guests and entourage completely enthralled by her lightness, humor and grace. The more Tyler saw and talked to her, the more he became enthralled by this woman.