Lone Star Ranger : A Ranger to Ride With (9781310568404) by James J. Griffin Page A

you’d spread it
on the ground, damp side up, to dry. A wet saddle blanket’ll
irritate your horse’s back and make him unfit to ride. And you want
the saddle to dry out so the leather and linin’ won’t mold or rot.
Besides, you’ll be usin’ it for your pillow. Then, take his bridle
off.”
    Nate did as told, while Jeb stripped the
gear from Dudley.
    “Good. Now, take your currycomb and get as
much sweat and dirt out of your horse’s hide as possible. Use it in
a circular motion, but not on his legs. Then take the brush and
brush him out, includin’ his legs. Long smooth strokes with that.
Get him as dry as you can.”
    Jeb groomed his own horse and watched with
approval while Nate rubbed down Red.
    “You did just fine,” he said. “Now I’m gonna
show you how to clean out his feet. I don’t need to tell you how
important that is.”
    “I reckon not.”
    “Good. Stand alongside his leg, like so.
Stay in close so even if he does kick you it won’t hurt all that
much.”
    Nate stood alongside Red’s left fore hoof,
holding the pick.
    “Pick up his foot. If he won’t lift it,
pinch the back of his leg, just above the fetlock. There’s nerves
and tendons there. That’ll make him pick it up.”
    Nate bent down to pick up Red’s foot. The
horse gave it to him readily.
    “Good. You’re doin’ fine, Nate. Now dig all
the dirt out of his hoof. Work from the heel to toe. Make certain
you get any grit or pebbles out of the grooves between the frog and
sole.”
    “The frog?” Nate said. “You mean Red’s hoof
is gonna croak?”
    “That’s as bad of one of my jokes.
No, the frog is the wedge of soft tissue that runs down the middle
of the hoof, from the heel almost to the toe. It absorbs a lot of
pressure, so you don’t want it bruised.”
    Nate finished cleaning out Red’s feet, then,
while Jeb started a fire, led the horses to the creek for a drink,
then picketed them to graze. He and Jeb ate a quick supper of
bacon, beans, and biscuits, then rolled in their blankets. Jeb was
quickly asleep, snoring softly, while Nate, head pillowed on his
saddle, lay on his back, gazing up at the myriad stars pinpricking
the inky black of the night sky.
    “Sure wish you were here with me, Jonathan,”
he whispered. “You’d really love it out here. And I know you’d’ve
been a great Texas Ranger. I miss you somethin’ fierce, big
brother, even more than I miss mom and dad. Well, there’s nothin’ I
can do except try and be a man to make all of you proud. And I’ll
do my best to make that happen, I promise you.”
    With that vow in his heart and a prayer on
his lips, Nate drifted off to sleep.
    ***
    Sometime later, Nate was awakened by a soft
sound, the sound of Big Red nickering uneasily. He started to sit
up.
    “Shh, Nate. Don’t make a move,” Jeb hissed.
He slid his Colt from under his blankets.
    Big Red nickered again, more loudly, as did
Dudley. Both horses were standing stock-still, their ears pricked
sharply forward as they gazed into the dark. A figure emerged from
the brush, edging toward the horses.
    “Hold it right there, mister!” Jeb’s voice
cut through the night like the crack of a whip. The intruder
turned, and smoke and flame blasted from his gun. His bullet
thudded into the dirt between Jeb and Nate. Jeb’s gun blazed in
return, and the man screamed, staggered for a few feet, then
pitched to his face.
    “Stay still a few minutes, Nate, in case he
had a pardner,” Jeb ordered. “You all right?”
    “Yeah, I’m okay. That bullet came close, but
I’m fine.”
    “Good. Keep down until I say so.”
    They waited several minutes, until Jeb was
fairly certain the man had been alone.
    “All right. Let’s check on that hombre, but
be careful,” Jeb said. “And keep your gun handy.”
    Nate tossed off his blankets and stood up,
his Smith and Wesson in his hand. He hadn’t even realized he’d
picked up the gun. He and Jeb headed over to the downed man.
    “Looks like he’s done