Part of the allure of cowboys is their relationship with
horses. Something can be said about a man with the ability to control an animal
5-6 times his weight. In the 1800s, their lives and livelihood depended on a
good horse (or several) that could be relied on to either carry them hundreds
of miles on a cattle drive or a few miles into town to transact business
dealings. Cowboy ranchers needed horses to move a herd of cattle among the
various grazing spots on their land holdings or to ride the perimeter of their
fence lines, making repairs as they went. At roundup time, cutting horses
(specially trained horses to work close in with cattle) were used in the
branding process. Horses trained to a
harness were also needed to drive a wagon, a buckboard, or a buggy into town to
haul back supplies or to run errands.
In the mid 1800s, a team of oxen cost between $40-$150, a
team of mules cost $200-$400, but a good horse could cost between $100-$300.
This was at a time when San Francisco carpenters earned $4/day (1861), Army
privates earned $16/month (1869), police officer Wyatt Earp earned $60/month in
Wichita, Kansas (1875), California farm laborer earned $41/month (1880) or
silver miners in Tombstone earned $4/day (1881). Cowboys were provided with
room and board and earned between $30-$45/month (often much less during the
winter). So you can appreciate how valuable the horse was to a working cowboy
or rancher.
I watched a recent show titled American Horses that provided
tidbits I’d never known about different breeds. A specific breed, Pryor
Mountain Mustangs, has been tied through DNA to Spanish horses from the
colonial period. An endangered breed that live in Montana and Wyoming, they are
identified by zebra stripes on the backs of the legs, stripes on shoulders and
withers, and a solid body. Other breeds discussed were the Morgan, Appaloosa,
and Quarter horses. I recommend the one hour show for anyone who is interested
in horses.
In my novella set in 1868, Lone Star Angel, Luc Tarrant owns a struggling ranch in west Texas
where he runs cattle and breaks wild mustangs to the saddle. In mid-December,
Carnelian Wendell springs a surprise visit on her sister, the housekeeper, and
upsets more than his predictable routine.
Excerpt:
“Whoa, Star, just a little breeze.
Nothing more.” Carni Wendell pulled the reins to the left, wondering if she
should have paid the stable master to drive her out to the Bar-T Ranch. This
time she promised herself she wouldn’t be a burden as a visiting relation, so
she’d hired the horse and cart for the month.
In the distance, dark clouds chased
the afternoon sun from the base of a craggy mountain. A chilly wind blew across
the west Texas hard-packed prairie, twisting a dirt devil and tossing stray
tumbleweeds across the path. Star stopped and nickered as an apparition
appeared on the horizon.
A dark horse with a rider cantered in
her direction and stopped not ten feet away, scraping up a dust cloud.
“Take a wrong turn, lady?”
The broad-shouldered man’s voice was
deep and full of suspicion.
“Easy, Star.” With effort, she pulled
the prancing horse back to an uneasy stand and turned her attention to the
stranger. His hat shaded his eyes, but couldn’t hide a strong jaw covered with
beard stubble and a tight mouth pulled down at the edges.
A loose tendril of hair tickled her
forehead. With a gloved hand, she tucked it under the knitted scarf wrapped
over her ears and neck to fight off the chilly air. “I’m looking for the Bar-T
Ranch. Would you know if I’m on the right lane? Can’t really call this uneven,
pot-holed path a road.” She paused, expecting the silent stranger to answer.
Leather creaked at his shift in
position. He rested a forearm across the pommel and stared.
“The stable master in Wayside Gap told
me to turn south at the double fencepost. Not that I’m too good with
directions, but those were the only double posts I saw.”
“Thought I recognized Einhardt’s
mare.”
What? The man commented on ownership
of a horse, not about the boundaries for a cattle ranch? She waited for his
confirmation she was headed in the right direction. “So, I did take the correct
turn?”
“Could be.” The man stood in the
stirrups to peer over her shoulder. “What’s your business here?”
Carni’s gaze was pulled to the muscles
straining the thighs of his muddy denims. The man obviously worked hard for a
living. How dare a ranch hand question her? Rudeness was not to be tolerated.
Grasping the reins with one hand, she reached under the cart seat to collect
the velvet reticule lying at her feet. “I’m tired and I’m cold. As wonderful as
our conversation has been, I need to get to the Bar-T ranch. I’ll pay you four
bits to direct me to the ranch house.”
She dug out the coins and held them
suspended over the side of the cart, staring with a narrowed gaze at the man’s
shadowed face. When he sat as still as a statute with only his eyes tracking
her movements, her temper simmered. However, discussing her personal business
with a ranch hand was unthinkable. She shook her hand and raised an eyebrow in
his direction. “Okay, six bits.” Another coin was added to her hand.
The wind teased her skirts, flipping
back the hem to reveal several inches of a red petticoat.
His gaze flicked to the exposed
lingerie and the right side of his mouth quirked for just a second.
She saw his reaction and steamed even
more. He’d taken advantage of the wind’s mischief instead of averting his gaze
like a gentleman would. “A dollar for the directions. Take it now, I won’t be offering more.” Money well
spent to remove herself from the belligerent company of this quiet man.
Several moments passed before he
clucked out of the side of his mouth and urged the horse forward until abreast
of the cart. “Whoa, Hades.” He held a cupped hand under her outstretched one,
looked up from under the brim of his black hat and winked.
Heat flashed through her at his bold
gesture. With a quick movement, she released her hand and let the clinking
coins drop into his gloved hand. “Your boss will be hearing about your surly
attitude.”
He shrugged and wheeled the horse,
guiding it to the middle of the path. “Follow me.” Without a look over his
shoulder, he trotted up the small rise and disappeared over the top.
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