Free A Good Horse by Jane Smiley Page A

color of smoke. I had seen plenty of calves over the years, both brown Herefords with white faces and black Angus. Calves were always cute. But these Brahmas were really cute. The one nearest the fence had a dark-colored crown on his head and a tuft the same dark color on the end of his tail. While we were watching, he started nursing the cow. I could see that she had a big hump where the withers would be on a horse, and he had a hump, too, though tiny. Herefords and Angus are flatacross the top, head to tail. Brahmas are kind of surprising-looking if you aren’t used to them. The cows and calves were noisy—there was a lot of mooing.
    We walked the horses along the fence and tried to get a look at all of the calves. Two were lying down, but the four that were standing had big knees and a fold of skin that dangled between their front legs. One of them was much more speckled with dark dots than the others—almost as if a drift of soot had fallen on him. The calves looked at us as we rode by, but it seemed like the cows couldn’t be bothered with something as unimportant as a couple of horses. Happy was interested in the cows, though. As we walked along, she stared at them, her ears pricked. She was much more interested than Lincoln. I remembered what Jem Jarrow said, and thought that Happy really, really wanted to play.
    Daddy said, “Good cattle for a dry area, and these look healthy enough, even the calves. I’d stick with Herefords, though, out here in California. Best flavor.”
    One of the calves watched us as we made our way along the fence and then suddenly mooed at us. Happy flicked her ears. The calf mooed again, and Happy whinnied. I laughed.
    “I think she’s saying, ‘Let’s have some fun!’ ” said Daddy.
    “You never see this kind at the rodeo,” I said.
    “Too fast,” said Daddy. “Brahmas can run when they want to. Jump, too.”
    “I love the color.”
    “These are beauties, no doubt about it,” said Daddy. “I’ll be interested in the bull when they turn him out in a couple of months. I haven’t seen him yet.”
    We turned and began to make our way down the hill. I letHappy pick her own trail—she was good at it and went diagonally, first to the left and then to the right. She moved right along. Lincoln wasn’t as good at it, and Daddy had to sit back with his heels way down, reminding Lincoln how to shift his weight backward. I never saw a horse tumble down a hillside, but every so often I was surprised when one didn’t. That was the way it was with Lincoln.
    We could see our ranch from above—the house, the barn, the pen, the arena, and part of the gelding pasture, and most of the mare pasture. The valley was golden and rolling, and Mom’s flowers looked bright against the broad expanse of grass. There was something else, too: off to the left, sitting on the hillside—that dog. We hadn’t seen him in maybe a week, and I had sort of forgotten him, thinking he had moved on or something like that. He was sitting up straight, his back legs square and his front paws together, ears up. Every moment or two, he lifted his muzzle and sniffed the wind. He also watched us. But he didn’t move. Daddy said, “Looks like he thinks he owns the place, doesn’t he?”
    We walked on down the hill. When we were about halfway down, the dog got to his feet and walked after us, step by step, watching what we did. When we got to the barn and dismounted, the dog stopped where he was, maybe a third of the way up the hill on the other side of the gelding pasture, and sat down again. He still looked like he owned the place. Daddy watched him for a long moment before walking Lincoln over to the gelding pasture and putting him away, but he didn’t say anything.
    By the time we were on our last horses of the day, Sprinkles and Sunshine, the dog was gone.

Hay Net

    Painted Stone Wall Jump

    Brick Wall Jump

Chapter 6
    I GUESS I THOUGHT THAT NO TIME WOULD HAVE GONE BY SINCE I showed Gallant Man in his