All the Pretty Horses
opinions. I do know there’s been some good cowhorses sired out of thoroughbreds.
Yes. How much importance do you give to the mare?
Same as the sire. In my opinion.
Most breeders place more confidence in the horse.
Yessir. They do.
The hacendado smiled. I happen to agree with you.
John Grady leaned and tipped the ash from his cigarette. You dont have to agree with me.
No. Nor you with me.
Yessir.
Tell me about the horses up on the mesa.
There may be a few of them good mares still up there but not many. The rest I’d pretty much call scrubs. Even some of them might make a half decent cowhorse. Just all around using kind of a horse. Spanish ponies, what we used to call em. Chihuahua horses. Old Barb stock. They’re small and they’re a little on the light side and they dont have the hindquarters you’d want in a cuttinghorse but you can rope off of em …
He stopped. He looked at the hat in his lap and ran his fingers along the crease and looked up. I aint tellin you nothin you dont know.
The hacendado took up the coffeepitcher and poured their cups.
Do you know what a criollo is?
Yessir. That’s a argentine horse.
Do you know who Sam Jones was?
I do if you’re talkin about a horse.
Crawford Sykes?
That’s another of Uncle Billy Anson’s horses. I heard about that horse all my life.
My father bought horses from Mr Anson.
Uncle Billy and my grandaddy were friends. They were born within three days of each other. He was the seventh son of the Earl of Litchfield. His wife was a actress on the stage.
You are from Christoval?
San Angelo. Or just outside of San Angelo.
The hacendado studied him.
Do you know a book called The Horse of America, by Wallace?
Yessir. I’ve read it front to back.
The hacendado leaned back in his chair. One of the cats rose and stretched.
You rode here from Texas.
Yessir.
You and your friend.
Yessir.
Just the two of you?
John Grady looked at the table. The paper cat stepped thin and slant among the shapes of cats thereon. He looked up again. Yessir, he said. Just me and him.
The hacendado nodded and stubbed out his cigarette and pushed back his chair. Come, he said. I will show you some horses.
T HEY SAT opposite on their bunks with their elbows on their knees leaning forward and looking down at their folded hands. After a while Rawlins spoke. He didnt look up.
It’s a opportunity for you. Aint no reason for you to turn it down that I can see.
If you dont want me to I wont. I’ll stick right here.
It aint like you was goin off someplace.
We’ll still be workin together. Bringin in horses and all.
Rawlins nodded. John Grady watched him.
You just say the word and I’ll tell him no.
Aint no reason to do that, said Rawlins. Its a opportunity for you.
In the morning they ate breakfast and Rawlins went out to work the pens. When he came in at noon John Grady’s tick was rolled up at the head of his bunk and his gear was gone. Rawlins went on to the back to wash up for dinner.
T HE BARN was built on the english style and it was sheathed with milled one by fours and painted white and it had a cupola and a weathervane on top of the cupola. His room was at the far end next to the saddleroom. Across the bay was another cubicle where there lived an old groom who’d worked for Rocha’s father. When John Grady led his horse through the barn the old man came out and stood and looked at the horse. Then he looked at its feet. Then he looked at John Grady. Then he turned and went back into his room and shut the door.
In the afternoon while he was working one of the new mares in the corral outside the barn the old man came out and watched him. John Grady said him a good afternoon and the old man nodded and said one back. He watched the mare. He said she was stocky. He said rechoncha and John Grady didnt know what it meant and he asked the old man and the old man made a barrel shape with his arms and John Grady thought he meant that she was pregnant and he said no she wasnt and the old man shrugged and went back in.
When he took the mare back to the barn the old man was pulling the cinchstrap on the black Arabian. The girl stood with her back to him. When the shadow of the mare darkened the bay door she turned and looked.
Buenas tardes, he said.
Buenas tardes, she said. She reached and slid her fingers under the strap to check it. He stood at the bay door. She raised up and passed the reins over the horse’s head and put her foot in the stirrup and stood
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