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.“„Did it work?“„Nope.“„Why not? Were they funning him all along?“„Nope.Mare only liked coffee with cream.Last anyone saw ofPerkins, that poor fool was running over the hills, trying to rope amama longhom.To this day, I’ve heard that you can see him when themoon is just right and the calves are just getting up to weaning size.“Lara’s laughter blended with the deeper sounds of masculineamusement.She loved it when the men started talking about thehorses they had known, for each man’s life was intimately involvedwith the big, affectionate and sometimes epically willful animals.„Did you ever hear about Wild Blue?“ asked Dusty.Lara shook her head, although the name sounded vaguely familiarto her.„He was a big stud that roamed around here way, way back, aboutthe time the first Blackridge rode into the valley through South Pass.The Indians had tried to catch that mustang, but it was like trying tocatch the wind.So they took their best mares and turned them loose toget bred by the wild blue roan.He threw some of the prettiestAppa-loosa colts ever to eat Montana grass,“ Dusty said.The cowhand’s voice was slow, the words almost hesitant.He wasmore than seventy years old and had been born on the Rocking B.Hehad a lot of memories to search through for the threads of the story hewas telling.Lara listened to both the words and the silences, lettingthe story grow in her mind, seeing again a time when horses ran free and were pursued by men just slightly less wild than the mustangsthemselves.The stories blended one into the other like streams joining a riverrunning back through time itself.When it was necessary, Larachanged the tape unobtrusively, not interrupting the flow of words asshe labeled each tape and entered it into her interview log.Eventually the talk turned to the raucous celebrations that used tofollow a roundup, when everyone would let off steam after the brutalwork of catching, branding, dehorning and castrating spring calves.The square dances would go on until dawn and beyond, with couplessneaking away to be alone and then returning later, flushed withsecrets.Spur, who had been pretty well left out of the storytelling up to thatpoint, brightened at the mention of dancing.With little urging Williehauled out his fiddle, cranked the strings into tune and began to playall the old hoedown songs with surprisingly agile fingers.Spur turnedout to be a superb square dancer whose family had a long tradition ofcalling dances all over the West.He began to chant the dances that hehad learned and to demonstrate the rhythmic, exuberant steps thataccompanied the words.„This step is known as Over the Moon and Around the Mountain,“Spur said.Lara blinked.She was no authority on square dances, but she hadthe feeling that her leg was being very gently pulled.On the otherhand, that kind of droll teasing was very much a part of ranch life both today and in the past.She had no objection to providing the men witha little entertainment at her own expense.„Over the Moon and Around the Mountain,“ she repeated gravely.„That sounds, er, strenuous.“„Oh, it’s not bad a’tall,“ drawled Spur.„Here, I’ll show you.“He held out his arms.Lara hesitated for several seconds beforelifting her own arms and stepping forward.As Spur pulled her intodancing position, she realized that Spur was every bit as tall as Carson and nearly as strong.The young cowboy’s eyes were a very vividblue, and his long, light mustache was worn in a drooping handlebarstyle that would have gone unremarked more than a century before.„Ready?“ he asked.„I doubt it,“ Lara said, „but I’m game.“Spur winked.„That’s my girl.Now start with your right foot.“Lara obediently put her right foot forward.Instantly she was swept off her feet, tossed into the air like a child, caught and swung aroundshoulder-high in a complete circle.She gave out a startled shriek andhung on to Spur as though he were a runaway horse.He laughed, sether on her feet carefully and grinned down at her.„Over the Moon and Around the Mountain,“ he said.„Like it?“„Er – “„One more time.“„Spur –!“Too late.Lara’s feet left the floor before she could finish hersentence.This time Spur tossed her even higher, caught her evencloser and swung her around twice.The men were all stamping andapplauding and whooping their approval, and cutting a few fancysteps of their own while Willie made the old fiddle sing.Lara wentOver the Moon and Around the Mountain so many times that she lostcount.Before long she was laughing, breathless and too dizzy to domore than cling to Spur when he finally relented and set her on herfeet to stay.Suddenly the room fell silent.Lara pushed the hair back from hereyes and looked up.Carson was standing just inside the bunkhousedoor.His expression was hard, and his eyes were the cold yellow of awinter sky after sunset.Although he was leaning casually against thedoor frame with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans, theangry tension of his body belied his relaxed stance.„Any of you yahoos know what time it is?“ Carson asked, hisvoice the temperature of a February wind.‘„Bout eleven,“ Spur said.„Why?“„Going to be a long day tomorrow,“ Carson said flatly.He pinnedLara with a glare from his narrowed eyes.„Have you lived in the cityso long that you’ve forgotten how early dawn comes? These men havework to do, and they can’t do it if they’re staggering around half blind for lack of sleep.“„I’m sorry.I lost track of time,“ Lara said.Hurriedly she shut thetape recorder off and stuffed it into her backpack.„It won’t happenagain.“„You’re damn right it won’t,“ Carson retorted, straightening andwalking slowly toward Lara with his hand out.„I’ll carry that pack foryou.“„Now wait a minute,“ Spur said, catching Lara’s hand as shejammed the rest of her stuff into the backpack.„None of us are riding nighthawk so what we do after dinner and before dawn is our own lookout.If we want to help you with yourresearch, we’ll damn well do it!“If the room had been quiet before, it became absolutely dead stillas the older hands held their breath in anticipation of Carson’sexplosion.He had a well-deserved reputation for his rough temper.The men who knew him expected him to fire Spur on the spot.Instead,Carson simply looked at the young cowhand.Spur realized he was introuble, but he wasn’t going to back down from what he had said.Hehad a full measure of the proud independence that had been thehallmark of cowboys since the first man saddled a horse and tried tokeep track of his cattle in the West’s endless open range.„It’s all right, Spur,“ Lara said quickly.„Carson’s right.Ishouldn’t have – “A curt motion of Carson’s arm cut off the flow of Lara’s words.She bit her lip and wished she knew why Carson was so angry [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.“„Did it work?“„Nope.“„Why not? Were they funning him all along?“„Nope.Mare only liked coffee with cream.Last anyone saw ofPerkins, that poor fool was running over the hills, trying to rope amama longhom.To this day, I’ve heard that you can see him when themoon is just right and the calves are just getting up to weaning size.“Lara’s laughter blended with the deeper sounds of masculineamusement.She loved it when the men started talking about thehorses they had known, for each man’s life was intimately involvedwith the big, affectionate and sometimes epically willful animals.„Did you ever hear about Wild Blue?“ asked Dusty.Lara shook her head, although the name sounded vaguely familiarto her.„He was a big stud that roamed around here way, way back, aboutthe time the first Blackridge rode into the valley through South Pass.The Indians had tried to catch that mustang, but it was like trying tocatch the wind.So they took their best mares and turned them loose toget bred by the wild blue roan.He threw some of the prettiestAppa-loosa colts ever to eat Montana grass,“ Dusty said.The cowhand’s voice was slow, the words almost hesitant.He wasmore than seventy years old and had been born on the Rocking B.Hehad a lot of memories to search through for the threads of the story hewas telling.Lara listened to both the words and the silences, lettingthe story grow in her mind, seeing again a time when horses ran free and were pursued by men just slightly less wild than the mustangsthemselves.The stories blended one into the other like streams joining a riverrunning back through time itself.When it was necessary, Larachanged the tape unobtrusively, not interrupting the flow of words asshe labeled each tape and entered it into her interview log.Eventually the talk turned to the raucous celebrations that used tofollow a roundup, when everyone would let off steam after the brutalwork of catching, branding, dehorning and castrating spring calves.The square dances would go on until dawn and beyond, with couplessneaking away to be alone and then returning later, flushed withsecrets.Spur, who had been pretty well left out of the storytelling up to thatpoint, brightened at the mention of dancing.With little urging Williehauled out his fiddle, cranked the strings into tune and began to playall the old hoedown songs with surprisingly agile fingers.Spur turnedout to be a superb square dancer whose family had a long tradition ofcalling dances all over the West.He began to chant the dances that hehad learned and to demonstrate the rhythmic, exuberant steps thataccompanied the words.„This step is known as Over the Moon and Around the Mountain,“Spur said.Lara blinked.She was no authority on square dances, but she hadthe feeling that her leg was being very gently pulled.On the otherhand, that kind of droll teasing was very much a part of ranch life both today and in the past.She had no objection to providing the men witha little entertainment at her own expense.„Over the Moon and Around the Mountain,“ she repeated gravely.„That sounds, er, strenuous.“„Oh, it’s not bad a’tall,“ drawled Spur.„Here, I’ll show you.“He held out his arms.Lara hesitated for several seconds beforelifting her own arms and stepping forward.As Spur pulled her intodancing position, she realized that Spur was every bit as tall as Carson and nearly as strong.The young cowboy’s eyes were a very vividblue, and his long, light mustache was worn in a drooping handlebarstyle that would have gone unremarked more than a century before.„Ready?“ he asked.„I doubt it,“ Lara said, „but I’m game.“Spur winked.„That’s my girl.Now start with your right foot.“Lara obediently put her right foot forward.Instantly she was swept off her feet, tossed into the air like a child, caught and swung aroundshoulder-high in a complete circle.She gave out a startled shriek andhung on to Spur as though he were a runaway horse.He laughed, sether on her feet carefully and grinned down at her.„Over the Moon and Around the Mountain,“ he said.„Like it?“„Er – “„One more time.“„Spur –!“Too late.Lara’s feet left the floor before she could finish hersentence.This time Spur tossed her even higher, caught her evencloser and swung her around twice.The men were all stamping andapplauding and whooping their approval, and cutting a few fancysteps of their own while Willie made the old fiddle sing.Lara wentOver the Moon and Around the Mountain so many times that she lostcount.Before long she was laughing, breathless and too dizzy to domore than cling to Spur when he finally relented and set her on herfeet to stay.Suddenly the room fell silent.Lara pushed the hair back from hereyes and looked up.Carson was standing just inside the bunkhousedoor.His expression was hard, and his eyes were the cold yellow of awinter sky after sunset.Although he was leaning casually against thedoor frame with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans, theangry tension of his body belied his relaxed stance.„Any of you yahoos know what time it is?“ Carson asked, hisvoice the temperature of a February wind.‘„Bout eleven,“ Spur said.„Why?“„Going to be a long day tomorrow,“ Carson said flatly.He pinnedLara with a glare from his narrowed eyes.„Have you lived in the cityso long that you’ve forgotten how early dawn comes? These men havework to do, and they can’t do it if they’re staggering around half blind for lack of sleep.“„I’m sorry.I lost track of time,“ Lara said.Hurriedly she shut thetape recorder off and stuffed it into her backpack.„It won’t happenagain.“„You’re damn right it won’t,“ Carson retorted, straightening andwalking slowly toward Lara with his hand out.„I’ll carry that pack foryou.“„Now wait a minute,“ Spur said, catching Lara’s hand as shejammed the rest of her stuff into the backpack.„None of us are riding nighthawk so what we do after dinner and before dawn is our own lookout.If we want to help you with yourresearch, we’ll damn well do it!“If the room had been quiet before, it became absolutely dead stillas the older hands held their breath in anticipation of Carson’sexplosion.He had a well-deserved reputation for his rough temper.The men who knew him expected him to fire Spur on the spot.Instead,Carson simply looked at the young cowhand.Spur realized he was introuble, but he wasn’t going to back down from what he had said.Hehad a full measure of the proud independence that had been thehallmark of cowboys since the first man saddled a horse and tried tokeep track of his cattle in the West’s endless open range.„It’s all right, Spur,“ Lara said quickly.„Carson’s right.Ishouldn’t have – “A curt motion of Carson’s arm cut off the flow of Lara’s words.She bit her lip and wished she knew why Carson was so angry [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]