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Chapter 15

NANCY HAD ALMOST forgotten Texas mornings. She had been up before dawn, saddling her favorite mare, Dixie, a little pinto cow pony, agile and spirited. It took some convincing; Dixie hadn't been ridden for sometime and had become lazy and fat. Nancy captured her with a flake of sweet alfalfa, slipping a halter on her, tying her to a post. Dixie swelled like a toad when Nancy first drew up the cinch on the saddle. She waited patiently, gently talking and nuzzling the mare until Dixie relaxed, then she pulled the cinch tight. Replacing the halter with a bridle, she swung aboard the pony. Dixie danced and snorted, and then Nancy dug her heels in and they shot forward. At the gate the mare tried to spin, but Nancy was ready and passed the test; a sharp jab with her heels, and they launched across the field.

She relaxed and let the pony gallop, remembering the rhythm. After a mile, she brought her down to an easy canter, and they climbed to the top of a hill. The arch of the sun crested the horizon, and dawn broke, building shadows that streaked the land. The visibility was incredible. Nancy imagined she could see the Gulf of Mexico. The sun shone warm on her face, fleshing out the dry landscape.

Down the hill they charged, routing a band of stray cattle. She picked out a steer and began to work it, driving it from the rest. Dixie took up the challenge, stepping side to side or lunging to intercept a move back to the clutch of retreating cattle. Nancy worked the reins lightly, and together, they turned the steer. It submitted and they drove it a short distance, and then Nancy nudged Dixie into a gallop, sliding past the startled steer, stretching out and slapping it on the snout, counting coup like some sort of Indian. She laughed and rode, charging between some bushes, jumping others, then slowing to a canter, then a walk. She leaned down and rubbed Dixie’s neck, talking to her gently, and they walked.

Back at the barn, Nancy pulled off the saddle and rubbed Dixie down, removed the bridle, and turned her out in the corral. At the house, she put some coffee on then walked to the guesthouse.

"Jorge, en esta casa somos canalizaciones verticales tempranas," called Nancy, as she knocked on the door. Opening it and peering in, she noted there was nobody home.

"Hmm, no Jorge."

Nancy stepped back out and walked around the house.

"JORGE, donde está usted?" she called.

"Estoy aquí," Jorge appeared from around the corner. "Estoy apesadumbrado, miraba alrededor de la casa que es muy grande y el rancho. Es muy grande."

"Sí, es muy grande," she said. "Usted desea una taza de café?"

"Silicio, bueno."

Nancy led the way back to the kitchen. They drank coffee while Nancy worked on breakfast. She told Jorge about her brother and the life she had led before rescuing Jorge from the clutches of the lobster fishermen. Texas could have been another planet as far as Jorge was concerned; everything about it seemed alien. His life in a mountainous rain forest was the antithesis of the desiccated vast sweep of Texas landscape. Nancy worked in a load of laundry as they picked their way through a leisurely breakfast.

Jorge was extremely curious about the horses. He explained to Nancy that he had ridden and cared for horses his whole life. He had never seen a pinto like the one she had ridden that morning. He told her about his own horse and the colt he had been working with and hoped to return to complete its training. Jorge was anxious to find a way to be of service. He felt indebted to Nancy and was anxious to help with the horses and the barn. After breakfast, Nancy took Jorge to the barn and gave him a tour. The stable housed a stallion and two mares besides the pinto mare. They were quarter horses trained to work the range.

Nancy watched Jorge with the horses. He was calm and confident, and they responded. Nancy gave Jorge a halter and asked him to groom one of the mares. She told him to brush out the mare and clean up her hooves then muck out the stall. She directed him to a pile of straw bales used for bedding. Jorge was pleased to have a job and went about it with great enthusiasm. Nancy brought another horse out and began the process again. Dixie came over and made a nuisance of herself, nosing around, disturbing the peace.

The horses were the first to notice the noise; they stomped around with their ears laid back. Jorge dropped his mare’s left front hoof and stroked her shoulder, talking gently, and then he saw it.

"Cuál es ése?" he asked, pointing to the southeast.

Nancy turned to look. It was a plane, and it was low, descending below the line of the horizon. It was landing. Nancy had seen airplanes land out here, but this was different. This was big, and there was something wrong. She could just make out the nosewheel, but the other two were still not visible; one propeller was completely stopped, and she could count the rotations on another.

"IT’S GOING TO CRASH!"

"Que?"

"El aeroplano va a estrellarse!"

They watched, transfixed. The second propeller had stopped completely, and the plane kept growing. Suddenly, the last two sets of wheels dropped. It was amazing how clearly she could see them. They weren’t turning, and they were in sets of two. The horses were becoming extremely agitated at the low-pitch rumble.

The plane hit hard well short of the barn and then vaulted back into the air, leaving an explosion of dust and debris in its wake. The horses reared and squealed, shaking their heads, and Dixie raced back and forth in the corral. It was all Nancy and Jorge could do to control the two mares tied to the fence to prevent them from injuring themselves. The plane hit the ground again and managed to stick. Another cloud of dust erupted; it was picked up and spun by the vortices from the wings and props. The plane disappeared behind the barn, and the noise level was muted as a horizontally rolling cloud of dirt and debris moved through the corral. Nancy watched the plane on the far side of the barn. The pitch of the engines abruptly began to increase, and another cloud of dust developed around the fuselage. The plane slowed, and the cloud of dust worked its way forward to completely envelop the plane. At last, the noise and chaos subsided.

"Woody! What is he up to now?"

She grabbed a bridle from the tack room and put it on the mare she had been brushing, grabbed a hank of mane, and swung on the horse.

"Jorge, abrir la puerta!" she yelled.

Jorge sprinted to the gate and opened it. "Tiene quidado!" he offered, as Nancy galloped away.