saddlebag dispatches
T
HE DUN HORSE TROTTED in with flecks of foam floating off its shoulders like snowflakes. Sweat runnelled from under the skirts of the empty saddle down the flanks, dripping away with the horse’s every footfall. Thin streams of blood glowed red on the left hind leg, and a patch of hide the size of a five-dollar bill flapped and dangled above, peeled from the thigh. The horse slowed to a walk, favoring the right foreleg, the knee of which showed a slight swelling. Stopping at the corral fence, the gelding hung its head between spraddled front legs, sucking air and quaking like an aspen leaf. “Sonofabitch,” Andy Hill muttered under his breath. The other cowhands in the pen watched as Andy climbed the rails. The horse flinched when he dropped to the ground, his boots spitting out puffs of dust as he lit. He spoke low to the trembling animal as he grasped the cheek piece on the bridle. The other hand came back smeared with blood when he stroked the neck, the horse half-heartedly shying backward a step at the touch. “Sonofabitch,” Andy mumbled again. The blood staining his hand came from a long abrasion along
the neck. He pushed clumps of mane away, revealing droplets of blood oozing from flesh relieved of its hair and layers of skin, as if grazed by a farrier’s rasp. Andy sidled along the left side of the horse. Dangling askew in its leathers hung a crushed oxbow stirrup. Higher up, the saddle horn was smashed, leather was skinned off the swells, and skirts and fenders were barked and scratched. Crusted blood trimmed a gouge on the horse’s rump still leaking and clotting fresh gore. “What the hell happened, you think?” Andy heard, but did not comprehend the question. He turned back toward the corral and saw Brenn Nelson, leaning against, and elbows hitched over, the top rail. “Huh?” Brenn cleared his throat and spat. “What do you suppose happened to that horse? Better still, where’s Mister Kirkwood?” Andy shook his head. “Don’t know.” “Six bits says it’s that damn Black Joe.” “You’re probably right. We best be finding out.” Andy told the other hands to tend to Kirkwood’s horse and saddle a fresh one, then get on with the
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