Free Under a Turquoise Sky by J. R. Roberts Page A

got two buckskins in here the other day that I think will do the job. You know why?”
    â€œBecause their hooves are harder than most horses’?”
    Axel cackled and said, “I knew you was a man who knew horses.”
    Clint wasn’t sure he even knew that about buckskins until Buck Chance had told him. He wondered if Chance’s knowledge of buckskins had anything to do with the fact that he’d chosen the name Buck to replace his real name.
    â€œSee them two, in the back?” Axel said. “One’s a golden hair, one’s a dun, but they’re both buckskins.”
    â€œLet me have a closer look.”
    They approached the corral and the man opened the gate so they could enter, then closed it behind them.
    As they walked through the corral, the horses scattered to let them through. When they reached the two buckskins, Axel stood aside proudly and allowed Clint to examine them. Clint concerned himself mostly with the condition of their legs, which seemed sturdy enough.
    He placed his hand on the haunches of the golden-haired mare and asked, “This one is, what, six?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAnd the dun gelding? Four?”
    â€œFive, just turned.”
    They were good-sized horses, the mare actually bigger than the gelding—sixteen hands to slightly over fifteen.
    â€œWhataya think?”
    â€œI think we should go inside and talk price,” Clint said.
    â€œI got me a bottle of good whiskey we can do it over,” Axel said anxiously.
    â€œI hope you’re not one of those fellas who likes dickering,” Clint said as they walked back through the corral.
    â€œWell, now—”
    â€œBecause I hate dickering,” Clint said. “I like a man who sets a fair price the first time through.”
    â€œWell,” Axel said, as they reentered the livery, “that don’t make for much whiskey drinkin’, does it?”
    â€œWell,” Clint said, slapping the older man on the back, “certainly not a whole bottle.”

TWENTY
    By the time Buck Chance found his way to the livery, Clint and Axel had come to terms on renting the two horses.
    â€œI know you,” Axel said as Chance entered. “I got your sorrel in number four.”
    â€œThat’s right.” He looked at Clint. “How’d we do?”
    â€œLike you said,” Clint replied. “Two buckskins. How’d you know.”
    â€œI saw one over here the other day,” Chance said. “I was just hoping he had two.”
    â€œYou want them ready to go in the mornin’?” Axel asked.
    â€œOh, hell,” Clint said, “I forgot about a saddle.”
    â€œI got one,” Axel said. “Ain’t great, but it’ll do. Fella couldn’t pay his bill last month, so I took his saddle.”
    â€œLet’s see it,” Chance said.
    Axel went and brought the saddle back with him. It was worn, but like he had said, it would do.
    â€œThrow it in,” Clint said.
    â€œWha—Aw, okay,” Axel said. “What the hell, I ain’t never gonna sell it, and this way I’ll get it back…right?”
    â€œRight,” Clint said.
    â€œIs our employer a horseman?” Chance asked.
    â€œYou know, that’s something I never asked him,” Clint said. “But he won’t squawk either way.”
    â€œI’m havin’ the supplies delivered here early tomorrow,” Chance told Clint and Axel.
    â€œI’ll pack yer horse, if you want,” Axel offered. “No extra charge.”
    â€œYou remember which one to pack and which one to saddle, you can do both,” Clint said.
    â€œI’ll remember.”
    â€œGood man.” He looked at Chance. “I guess we’re set.”
    â€œI hate to bring it up,” Chance said, “but does our man have a gun? A rifle?”
    â€œI’ll find out.”
    â€œYou don’t know much about him, do you?”
    â€œI’ve