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Updated: June 10, 2025
He has a way with horses, hasn't he?" Benito grinned, "Now that Montrosa is wilder than a deer." Alaire rode into the herd with her foreman, while Dave settled his loop over a buckskin, preparatory to joining the cowboys. The giant herd milled and eddied, revolving like a vast pool of deep, swift water. The bulls were quarrelsome, the steers were stubborn, and the wet cows were distracted.
Now during Dave's absence Paloma had done her best to spoil the mare, and among other marks of favor had allowed her free run of the yard, where the shade was cool and the grass fine, and where delicious tidbits were to be had from the kitchen for the mere asking. In consequence, Dave did not go far until he was discovered. Montrosa signaled, then trotted toward him with ears and tail lifted.
She knows more'n any vet I ever saw." "Perhaps I needed a veterinary instead of a doctor," Dave smiled. "I guess I've got some horse blood in me. See!" Montrosa had thrust her head under his arm and was waiting for him to scratch her ears. "Well, I brought you some mail."
When challenged by an under-sized soldier he merely spurred Montrosa forward, eyeing the sentry so grimly that the man did no more than finger his rifle uncertainly, cursing under his breath the overbearing airs of all Gringos. Nor did the rider trouble to make the slightest detour, but cantered the full length of Romero's dusty street, the target of more than one pair of hostile eyes.
"These beauties were raised on Kentucky blue grass. Brother and sister, aren't they?" "Yes. Montrose and Montrosa are their names. The horse is mine, the mare is yours." Seeing that Dave did not comprehend the full import of her words, she added: "Yours to keep, I mean. You must make another Bessie Belle out of her." "MINE? Oh ma'am'" Law turned his eyes from Alaire to the mare, then back again.
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