the passing parade. “I’d better catch up.” He grabbed Marti’s hand. “March with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You and Anne can hook up in the stands at the rodeo.”
Anne could see that Marti wanted to go with Skip. She gave her a nudge. “Go on. I’ll shop and meet you in an hour.”
Once Marti and Skip had joined the parade, Anne settled back onto the curb. A group of riders was coming down the street with a banner heralding the Broken Arrow. As they passed, she recognized many of the ranch’s workers. Her breath caught when she saw Morgan riding the prancing bay range horse. He’d tamed him! Her heart swelled proudly, and she waved, but she wasn’t sure Morgan saw her.
When the parade ended and the crowd broke up, Anne wandered through a few stores, buying souvenirs for friends back home. In so many ways, she felt like a normal tourist with nothing to do but have a good time. If only it were true. “No negative thoughts,” she told herself sternly.
She entered a western-wear shop and browsed, admiring fringed, buttery-soft buckskin jackets, a pairof snakeskin boots, and elaborate western shirts, encrusted with appliqués, sequins, and glittering jewels. On one wall, she saw ornate Stetson hats, chaps, and leather belts. But it was a saddle sitting atop a sawhorse that took away her breath.
The saddle was black leather, decorated with sterling silver. Anne fingered the saddle’s rich, hand-carved depressions and ran her palm over the intricate silver design patterns. She’d never seen anything like it, never knew such a utilitarian piece of equipment could be made to look so beautiful.
In her mind’s eye, she saw it across the back of Morgan’s bay stallion. She remembered what Morgan had told her about wanting to show his horse and how expensive proper show gear was to buy. She lifted the price tag and raised her eyebrows. The saddle cost almost two thousand dollars. She chewed her bottom lip. How she’d like to buy it for him!
Her mind returned to the time in the hospital when she’d discovered the OLW envelope on her pillow, and to the sense of absolute awe she’d experienced when she’d seen the check, the enormous amount of money given to her by someone she didn’t even know. Hadn’t the letter said, “…
the true miracle is in giving, not receiving”?
While Anne knew she couldn’t keep the origin of such a gift as the saddle from Morgan, she certainly had money enough to buy it for him. Moreover, she
wanted
to buy it for him, wanted him to feel what she’d felt when JWC had unexpectedly blessed her life. Heart pounding, Anne made up her mind and found a clerk.
After she’d acquired the saddle, a matching bridle, and a handwoven saddle blanket, she made arrangements for her purchases to be delivered to the Broken Arrow the following day. Pleased with herself, she followed the crowds to the outdoor rodeo arena, where she found Marti already perched in the stands for the show.
“I thought you’d gotten lost,” Marti said.
“Just sidetracked. Did you have a good time?”
“The best time. I like Skip so much. He’s sweet and kind and treats me like I’m special.”
“You are special,” Anne said.
Marti dropped her gaze. “It makes me realize how badly Peter has treated me, and I’ve taken it like a fool.”
Once the rodeo began, Anne lost herself completely in the atmosphere. The barrel race had several age categories, three won by cowgirls. Skip placed second in the men’s group, and Marti cheered more loudly than anyone in the stands for him.
The sun was setting and the arena was lit by overhead stadium lights when it came time for the bronco-riding events. Anne felt jittery. The object was for the rider to stay on the horse for as long as possible. A buzzer would sound at the end of a specific time period, and any rider who was still mounted became a finalist. “What’s the prize?” Anne asked.
“A hundred dollars,” Marti told her.
Anne