Free Valley of the Gun (9781101607480) by Ralph W. Cotton Page B

well fed and curried.” He studied the hillside for a long while, still puzzled. “We’re going to have to see what they’re doing here, though. Anything out of the ordinary is cause for concern.”
    â€œI don’t think we’ll have to round them up,” Mattie whispered. “It looks like they’re coming right to us.”
    â€œAnother good reason to think they’re not wild,” Sam said quietly. “They scented us from a mile away. They wouldn’t come looking for us if they were wild.” He glanced back over his shoulder in the direction of the water hole, trying to figure it out.
    â€œThey’re horses that have been turned loose, spooked or something,” Mattie said, her voice less of a whisper now.
    â€œI’ve got it,” Sam said, still looking back toward the water hole. “It’s water they’re after. They came to our scent because they’re tame. They’re used to people and our smell.”
    â€œBut where are they from?” Mattie asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Sam said, moving back toward the boulder’s edge. “Let’s go down and ask them.”
    Sam slid over the edge of the boulder and took a footing on a thin, protruding crevice halfway down its side. Stopping, he turned and held a hand up toward Mattie. But she ignored his hand and slid down, took a foothold on the crevice for only a second, then jumped the remaining few feet to the ground.
    Sam jumped down behind her and walked toward the gathered horses, Mattie right beside him.
    â€œNo brands,” he said, looking the horses over. He touched a gloved hand to the nearest horse’s side. He gave the animal a rub and saw no signs of the horse shying back from his gesture. Turning his back to the horse’s shoulder, he stooped and raised its shod hoof between his knees and looked at it. “No shoe markings. . . .”
    He set the hoof down and looked all around as the horses gathered around him and Mattie curiously. He gave a gentle but firm shove to get one of the horses’ noses away from the canteens hanging from the dun’s saddle horn.
    â€œThey’re thirsty,” Mattie said, rubbing a horse’s sweaty, dirt-streaked neck.
    â€œYes, they are,” Sam said. As he spoke he stepped over and took down a coiled rope he carried at his saddle horn and let out a couple of loops. “Somebody must’ve woken up this morning and found their corral empty. There’s a good chance someone is looking for these fellows right now.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” she asked, seeing the Ranger make a loop around the muzzle of the horse who’d arrived first. He led it closer to another horse.
    â€œStringing a couple of them,” Sam said. “We’ll take them to the water hole, get them watered.”
    â€œBut you didn’t want to be there in broad daylight with no cover,” Mattie reminded him.
    â€œThat’s right. I didn’t, not if I could keep from it,” Sam replied, continuing to string the second horse. “Right now I can’t help it. These horses will get themselves in trouble out here on their own. There’s a stage relay station just north of the border. We’ll leave them corralled there for whoever they belong to.”
    â€œIt’ll cost us time,” Mattie said, stepping in, helping him string the horses together.
    â€œI know,” he said. “If you want to ride on ahead, I’ll catch up to you along the trail.”
    â€œNo, I’ll stick,” she said, looping the rope around the third horse’s muzzle. “Fact is, if we’re going back to the water, I might manage to wash up some, if it’s all the same—if we have time, that is?”
    â€œWe’ll make time. It’ll take a few minutes for me to water these cayuses,” Sam said. He watched her add the horse to the string.
    â€œThree will do it?” she said.