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as they leaned on the corral fence. “I only have a small herd: Finn, my stallion, six mares, three colts and three fillies and a few yearlings. And three two-year-olds,” he added with a heavy sigh.
    “The two-year-olds are a problem?”
    “Only one. He shouldn’t be. He was one of the brightest, sweetest-tempered colts we’ve ever bred. He belongs to my daughter; he was her sixteenth birthday gift. She had him following her around like a puppy before she left for school.”
    “Sometimes they do change when they get older. Was he gelded?”
    “Sure and I hated to do it, let me tell you,” said Michael. “But Finn still has quite a few good years left in him and I can’t have two stallions squarin’ off at each other, now can I?” he said with a grin.
    “No, sir,” said Gabe with an answering smile.
    “The horses don’t run wild, ye understand, but Finn keeps them in the far pasture for the summer, which is way out to the southwest. He brought them in a few weeks ago because of my daughter’s horse. The poor bugger had been attacked by a mountain lion. She must have been an old one or he must have scented her, for he got away, but not without having part of his neck and shoulder torn away.”
    “And now he won’t let you near him,” stated Gabe.
    “Oh, he’ll come to ye for oats or water. Let you pet him. But the slightest move toward his back or neck and he shies away.”
    Gabe shook his head. “It’s that fear of having their necks broken that makes them hard to break in the first place. But if this horse has lived through that nightmare…well, I don’t know, Mr. Burke, that anyone can tame him.”
    “I know. ‘Tis a damned shame, for he’s a beauty. And my Cait will be heartbroken if I have to put him down. She’ll not understand that I can’t afford to keep him in oats and hay during the winter.”
    “I’d be happy to work with him, Mr. Burke.”
    “If you have the time and energy after working the yearlings and the other two-year-olds, ye’re welcome to try, Gabe. My daughter will be home soon and, though I don’t want to upset her, if ye can’t do anything with him, well, then, we’ll have to deal with it.”
    “Eduardo said you raise a special kind of horse, Mr. Burke?”
    “Appaloosas. Originally bred by the Nez Perce in Idaho. I was lucky enough to win myself a mare many years ago. I started my herd with her. I had no stallion then, so they’re not all purebred. But I made a trip out once, years ago, and got me another mare before it was too late.”
    “Too late?”
    “Aye, boyo. Not only were the Nez Perce driven off their land, but the army started killin’ their horses, too. So many years to breed them for color and endurance, and then so many good animals destroyed….”
    “So yours are the only ones left?”
    “Oh, no, there’s a few here and there, runnin’ wild or kept secret. I’m just glad that by chance I’m part of saving them.”
    “Who buys them from you?”
    “Why, who else but the U.S. Army! They’re so eager to have them now and they don’t see the irony atall.”
    * * * *
    Gabe settled in very easily. He shared the small bunkhouse with Jake, an older man with not much to say for himself. Jake was a kind of jack-of-all-trades, his duties ranging from mending harness to chopping wood to going for the mail, an eleven-mile ride each way. Had the Burkes been running cattle, they would have required more men, but raising sheep and horses took fewer full-time hands, except at shearing and lambing time.
    Michael moved Finn and his herd down from the foothills to the lower pasture and set Gabe to work with the yearlings. They were beautiful horses, the Appaloosas, with their unusual markings. The stallion had bred true except for one filly who was probably a throwback to her great-grandsire. She was coal black with no sprinkling of white anywhere. Most were gray or dark brown with a variety of patterns. But the one who stood out was the black