Death at the Black Bull (24 page)

W
hen Virgil stepped out onto the porch with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand, the morning sun caught the wetness left over from a quickly passing night storm and everything sparkled. The leaves of the cottonwood hung with the added weight. A sun-washed feeling made the earth fresh. He breathed deep.

Cesar was standing by the corral, watching the mare and the foal. The foal was tearing around the corral, only stopping long enough to buck and kick up its heels. His mother stood in the center, patiently watching the display. The smile that drew at the corners of Cesar's mouth deepened the weathered creases in his face. Having noticed the movement on the porch, he drew his foot off the bottom rail and went to join Virgil. He was almost at the steps when the kitchen door opened and Ruby stepped out, balancing two steaming cups. Cesar hesitated at the bottom step.

“C'mon, she won't bite you. You can see she was expecting you.”

Cesar climbed the stairs, accepting the cup when he reached the top.

“Gracias,”
he said.

“De nada,”
she replied.

“Ruby, this is my Mexican father, Cesar.”

Ruby smiled and raised her cup. “A pleasure, señor.” She sat on the top step and Cesar sat next to her.

“I have known about you and am happy to meet you,” he said.

“And I don't bite.”

“I might not even mind it if you did.”

“Hey, old man, remember I'm listening.”

Virgil stood up and excused himself. He went inside. From the kitchen he glanced at them once or twice and could see they were in conversation. He joined them again and for a moment they sat savoring the last of their coffee in silence. When Cesar rose to his feet, Ruby did the same and took his empty cup.

“I'll be right back.” She brought the empty cups inside and returned just as Cesar was stepping off the porch.

“Give me ten minutes,” Cesar said.

“What was that about?” Ruby asked.

“He's going to saddle a couple of horses for us.”

“For us?”

“Yep. Time for your introduction.”

“I don't know about this, Virgil. I was on a horse exactly once in my life and that was in a ring. I was numb with fear the whole time.”

“Well, let's see if we can get you out of the ring this time. Maybe the numbness will vanish.”

A few minutes later, Cesar led two horses out of the barn, fully saddled. He tied the reins to the top rail of the corral. Virgil took Ruby by the hand and led her down the steps. He could feel her reluctance.

“This is Jack. I've had him since he was born. He is the sire of that little guy.” While Virgil spoke, the foal had come near the rails, ears forward, until he stood within arm's reach. Virgil extended his hand and the foal hesitantly nibbled at the tips of his extended fingers. Suddenly, the mare, who had not moved from the center of the corral, snorted and stamped her foot. The foal wheeled and ran to his mother's side.

“He's beautiful,” Ruby said.

“Yes, and he listens to his mother. Now, this is Sugar.”

Still holding her hand, Virgil walked around Jack to the other horse.

“Sugar hasn't got a mean bone in her body. You'll love her.”

“Well, just remember, I do. And the ones that aren't mean, break.”

“Okay, noted.”

For the next half hour, Virgil went over some basics. Hesitant as she was, he was pleased to see how quickly she warmed to the mare, stroking her neck almost continuously throughout his instruction.

“Moment of truth,” he said as he put Ruby's left foot into the stirrup and elevated her smoothly into the saddle.

“It seems so high up.”

“Everybody says that the first time. Don't worry, I've been told the ground is soft when you're young.”

“I don't know if I'm that young, Virgil.”

“That's nice.”

“What?”

“You don't often use my name,” he said as he swung into the saddle on Jack. “Sheriff ain't a name, it's a title. Now, let's go, and remember . . . hold the reins together, in one hand. Sugar's neck reins. She doesn't want to be treated like a plow horse. She has her pride. Just nudge her ribs lightly with your heels. Next time, I'll get you some sure enough boots and you can leave your sneakers on the porch.”

He turned Jack away from the fence while Sugar followed, needing barely any encouragement from Ruby.

“Next time?” Ruby said. “You mean, I have to do this again?”

“Only if you want to.”

They left the corral area, with Virgil pointing Jack toward the low-lying hills that rose up at a distance from the house and barns. He kept Jack on the wide ranch road so Sugar could come alongside. He held the horse tightly collected, while Jack snorted and threw his head from side to side, in miniature rebellion.

“Why is he doing that?”

“He wants to run. Get some of the kinks out.”

“I guess that's what they mean when they say he's feeling his oats.”

Virgil nodded.

“Why doesn't Sugar act that way?”

“She's content to let Jack show off.”

“Smart girl. She understands how dumb some men can be. Always trying to impress.”

Virgil glanced sideways at Ruby and tried to stifle a laugh.

“What's so funny?”

“I'll tell you after you tell me what you're doing.”

“I told you, I did this once before. The instructor taught me about posting. I'm trying to post.”

“That's English riding, not Western. Sit deep in the saddle so no space shows between your butt and the saddle. Kinda hug Sugar.”

“Isn't that going to make me sore?”

“You'll get used to it, and you'll get the feel of the horse's rhythm.”

“Oh, kind of become one with the horse. I get it. It's a kind of Zen kind of thing.”

“A Zen kind of thing. Yeah, I guess.”

For the next few minutes, they walked quietly, then Virgil put Jack into a light trot. Without any encouragement, Sugar picked up the pace. Virgil watched to see Ruby's reaction.

“Don't fight it, sit deep in the saddle, and don't hold the pommel. Use your innate sense of balance.”

He was pleased to see her respond to his instruction. After a couple of minutes, he pulled Jack to a stop and waited until Sugar came alongside. They were at the base of a low butte.

“You're doing great,” he said, taking note of the color in her face. “Don't forget to breathe. Now we're going to do a light canter up this rise. Remember to balance and hug Sugar. Keep your hand off that horn, hold the reins so there's just a hint of slack and you can feel the bit in Sugar's mouth.”

He could see the apprehension in her face.

“You might find this gait easier if you can get into a nice rocking chair kind of motion.”

“Rocking chairs don't snort,” she said.

“She's just feeling good. Let's go. I'll be right alongside of you.”

He leaned forward and Jack stepped into a lope with Sugar right next to him. Virgil watched Ruby and after a tense couple of moments saw her start to relax into the saddle and the rhythm of the pace. They loped along a switchback, as it crisscrossed its way to the top of the ridge. When they got on top, Virgil pulled Jack up while Sugar came to a stop a couple of paces back. Then on her own, Ruby nudged her and she moved forward until they were side by side.

“That was fun,” Ruby said. “I really liked that and it was a lot more comfortable than trotting. It didn't even hurt.”

Virgil smiled. “We're gonna make a cowgirl outta you yet.”

They jogged along the top of the rise, then down the descending slope until they reached the flatland. All the while Virgil kept instructing her about shifting her weight back going downhill, staying on the balls of her feet in the stirrups as much as she could and all the time trying to feel the contact with Sugar's mouth. For the next half hour, they rode at different gaits. Ruby responded with eagerness and a willingness that surprised him. By the time they got within sight of the stock tank, where Virgil had discovered Buddy Hinton's bloated body, she had already passed novice status. A couple of times, he had even seen her squeeze Sugar's sides on her own to encourage her to pick up her pace. A wry smile creased his face.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Oh, nothing. It's just that I was thinking probably your old friends back in New York might be more than a little surprised if they could see you now.”

She didn't respond. A look passed over her face, then was gone.

“What's that sticking out at the top of the hill?” she said.

“It's a stock tank. The cattle water there in the dry. Creeks are running pretty good right now because of the rain. That's why they aren't there now.”

Before he could say more, she sharply nudged Sugar and started forward. Virgil held back. He hadn't been there since the day of his grim discovery. Ruby glanced back and saw that Virgil hadn't moved. She pulled Sugar to a stop then turned her and came back.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. It's just that I haven't been here since . . . See, this is where I found Buddy Hinton. Floating in that tank.”

“Oh!” she said. “I read about it in the newspaper, but I had no idea this was where . . .”

“It's all right. There's no way you could know exactly where. Besides, I don't want ghosts in my life. It's probably a good thing we ended up here.”

Virgil put his heels to Jack before Ruby could respond. By the time she caught up with him, Jack had already lowered his head and was making loud sucking noises as he drank from the tank. Sugar came to stand next to him and lowered her head into the dark water. Virgil and Ruby sat in silence while they drank.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I'm fine. If you can stand a little more, there's a nice view from the top of that next ridge.”

“Let's go for it.”

The ride was a bit longer and a little steeper, but Ruby was determined. When they got to the top, they were rewarded with an unobstructed view in every direction that ended only at the horizon.

The sun was higher, but still the rolling country showed dark, hidden arroyos at the bottom of long, undulating mesas. There were vast grazing areas between the ridges, and clusters of cattle scattered and moved slowly as they grazed. The cloudless sky hung over it all. A couple of hawks and buzzards soared high overhead on the thermals. Crickets and locusts whispered and buzzed to each other. An occasional distant moo or the bawl of a calf could be heard while closer it was the rhythmic heavy breathing of the now well-lathered horses.

“It's beautiful,” she said. “Epic.”

“Epic. I never thought of it like that.”

“You know what I mean. Beautiful just doesn't seem like enough. It's more than just what you see. It's a feeling, like I don't know, like a religious experience. Don't you feel it?”

She looked at Virgil sitting beside her on Jack. He had taken his right leg out of the stirrup and crossed it over the front of the saddle as he sat back, enjoying the moment. There was a slight dampness in his dark hair, noticeable only because he'd taken off his sweat-stained Stetson and set it on his crossed knee. Ruby looked at the sharp features in his face. His dark eyes were scanning the horizon. For the first time, she realized that what she had taken all along to be a facial crease was instead a long thin scar which showed lighter against his tanned cheek.

“I guess religious,” he finally said. “Maybe spiritual.”

“You have a problem with religious? Seen too many TV evangelists?”

“Maybe I've just seen too much when the TV's turned off.”

“Like a body floating in a stock tank.”

Virgil didn't answer at first. When he finally did, he turned away from the panorama that had filled their eyes and looked directly at her.

“Maybe it's hard for me to square all this and the idea of a religious experience with what I know goes on in the world I'm going back to after we leave here.”