Buck and the Widow Rancher (2006) Read Online Free PDF Page B

once been black was streaked with gray and hung down to his shoulders in uncut strands. Sharp black eyes watched as the horseman loosened the saddle cinches and removed the bridle bit. Looping the reins over the saddle horn, Buck let the big black search out the few tufts of dried grass missed by the sheep. Too close to the wagon, he thought.
    The sheep, some standing, most lying about in a huge cluster, had not shown any fear or excitement on the rider’s approach. Buck didn’t know much about sheep, but the Professor had once explained that most cattlemen were wrong, the two herds could live in close proximity to each other.
    ‘My son will be joining us soon,’ the older man said. Then, pointing to his chest, he added ‘My name is Juan Navarro and this is my flock. They have had a good day of grazing and will now rest and be ready for what tomorrow brings. Here,’ he went on, motioning to Buck, ‘get comfortable and I will bring the coffee pot from the wagon.’
    Finding as soft a spot as he could, Buck had no more than settled down when the grizzled old man came out with an enameled pot and three off-white mugs.
    ‘My son will be along in a few minutes. I am sure he will be glad to see we have a guest for dinner. Following the flock often gets lonely and a guest is a wonderful way to end a beautiful day, wouldn’t you say?’ His speech was almost without accent but something made Buck realize he was a foreigner.
    Almost as if he had read the big cowboy’s mind, Juan Navarro explained, ‘We are Basque. Herding and caring for sheep is a long tradition in our country. My son is part of the old country and part of this new land. The customs are different and caring for the flock is too often a lonely time. Mt son will enjoy your company as he is not used to being without people around him.’
    Buck relaxed with the cup of fireside coffee but when hishorse’s head came up and turned to look off to one side, he noticed. Moving slightly and adjusting his holstered six-gun, the big cowboy was watching as a second man came striding through the brush and into camp, a lamb tucked under one arm. It was obvious these two men were related. The younger man stood straight where his father’s shoulders were slightly stooped. Where the older man’s hair was mostly gray streaked, his son’s was shiny black. Both were weeks from the barber’s shears. However the chief difference, Buck was quick to notice, was that while the father was friendly and welcoming the son was not.
    ‘Who are you?’ he greeted Buck, stopping and standing straight and stiff. Before he could respond, Juan Navarro chastized his son. ‘He is a guest in our camp, Jose, and will be treated with respect.’ Gone was the soft melodious voice.
    ‘Father, you don’t know what you leave yourself open to,letting just anyone come in.’ Keeping one eye on Buck, he bent over and released the lamb who, with a bleat, scrambled away and was instantly lost in the flock. ‘Can’t you see? He is a cattleman. Ask yourself, how welcome have these kind made us feel in their camps?’ Looking eye to eye with Buck who now stood, he went on, ‘I ask again, who are you and what do you want with us?’
    ‘My name’s James Buckley Armstrong, Buck to my friends so I guess you’d better call me Mr Armstrong.’ Buck didn’t soften his words with a smile. ‘I was welcomed into this gentleman’s camp for a cup of coffee. From you? I want nothing from you.’
    ‘Jose, I won’t have it.’ The elder Navarro was angry and let a full load of that anger land on his son. ‘I can’t believe you are acting this way. It is clearly a strong tradition to make every visitor, whether friend or enemy, welcome in our camp. This is how it has always been and in my camp, it will always be.’
    ‘Old man, you don’t know these men. They carry pistols and have no reason not to use them. All too many of these cattle barons believe the land is for their livestock, not ours. You