Showdown At Buffalo Jump
“He shook the hay from his clothing before slipping on his shirt and pants, shivering a bit as shirt touched skin still warm from the bed. There was a bite to the air, and it followed him down the ladder and into the barn proper. Wouldn’t be long before he had to change his sleeping arrangements. That was one battle he wasn’t eager to join.
He filled two buckets with oats and shook them as he walked toward the corral. The mare nickered and danced over to him, a prima ballerina and adoring aficio...nado. He dumped the oats into a feed trough and told the horses how beautiful they were until the sun cracked the eastern horizon. Then he pitched hay into the corral with a fork left standing by the stack. He was occupied with that as Catherine walked up the path to the outhouse. She joined him at the corral a moment later.
“Winter has passed already, Mr. Bass?”
Max had been so bewitched by the horses, he hadn’t noticed that the sun had risen hot as a brand. The day would be more like August than early October.MoreLess
He filled two buckets with oats and shook them as he walked toward the corral. The mare nickered and danced over to him, a prima ballerina and adoring aficio...nado. He dumped the oats into a feed trough and told the horses how beautiful they were until the sun cracked the eastern horizon. Then he pitched hay into the corral with a fork left standing by the stack. He was occupied with that as Catherine walked up the path to the outhouse. She joined him at the corral a moment later.
“Winter has passed already, Mr. Bass?”
Max had been so bewitched by the horses, he hadn’t noticed that the sun had risen hot as a brand. The day would be more like August than early October.MoreLess
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