Badlanders by David Robbins

Author:David Robbins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-08-18T16:00:00+00:00

20

Neal Bonner had a lot on his mind.

There was his new boss, for starters. Alexander Jessup was proving easy to get along with. Jessup didn’t act as if he were the Almighty, as some bosses did, and the man seemed genuinely eager to learn all there was about raising cattle so he could do his job that much better. Neal liked that.

There was the boss’s older daughter. When it came to the ranch, she was as devoted as her father. Her enthusiasm was a joy to behold. So was she. The more Neal was with her, he wanted to be around her even more. Neal liked that, too.

Isolda was the wild card in the family’s deck. Neal wasn’t sure what to make of her. The little he’d seen, she didn’t act as if she cared one whit about the Diamond B or learning the ins and outs of the cattle trade. She didn’t seem interested in much besides herself. Neal didn’t like that, but it was her life and she could do as she pleased.

Neal was glad he’d sent Jericho to watch over her. He had unbounded faith in his pard. It felt peculiar, though, going around without Jericho at his side. They were together so much that Neal felt as if a part of him were missing.

Neal was thinking of that when he emerged from the stable and saw Alexander and Edana making for a corral. He hastened over. Edana heard his spurs jingling and looked around with a wide smile.

“Mr. Bonner. What a delight to see you again so soon.”

“Honestly,” Alexander said. “Have you no shame?”

“Sir?” Neal said uncertainly. “What are you two up to, if you don’t mind my askin’?”

“I’ve never seen a bronc buster work,” Alexander said, “and since I must acquaint myself with every aspect of ranch life, there’s no time like the present.”

The bronc buster’s handle was Hollander, but the punchers called him Holland for short. He limped when he walked, a legacy of the time a horse kicked him and shattered his shinbone. It didn’t hamper him any.

Holland had a mustang tied to a snubbing post. The horse stood, legs splayed, watching Holland approach with a bridle. Holland tried to slip it on and the mustang jerked away. Holland persisted. The mustang finally let him but didn’t like the feel and kept tossing its head. When it stopped, Holland brought a saddle blanket over. The horse stared at it suspiciously and, when Holland flapped it, tried to rear. When it subsided, Holland tried again.

“Why is he shaking the blanket like that?” Edana wanted to know.

“To get the critter used to it so it won’t run off out on the range when a puncher saddles up.”

“Are all the wild ones so skittish?” Alexander asked.

“Some take a heap of breakin’,” Neal said.

The mustang stopped rearing, but it trembled as Holland placed the saddle blanket over its back. He fetched the saddle next, and no sooner had he started to swing it on than the mustang bucked and kicked.

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