Black Hills

“She fusses around you, and at you, because she’s scared. And you snap and slap back at her. You never used to.”
    “She never used to dog me like I was a toddler,” Sam said with some heat.
    “You shattered your goddamn leg, Grandpa. The fact is you’re not steady enough to walk around in the damn snow by yourself. You will be, because you’re too stubborn not to get where you want to go. It’s going to take more time. You just have to deal with it.”
    “Easier to say when you’re still eyeball-to-eyeball with thirty than when you’re getting a glimpse of eighty.”
    “Then you should appreciate time more, and stop wasting it complaining about the woman who loves every crotchety inch of you.”
    “You’ve got a lot to say all of a sudden.”
    “I’ve been saving it up.”
    Sam lifted his weathered face to the air. “A man needs his pride.”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    They made their slow, laborious way to the barn. Inside, Coop ignored the fact Sam was out of breath. He could catch it while they looked at the horses.
    They’d had three foalings that winter. Two had gone smooth and one had been breech. Coop and his grandmother had helped bring that one into the world, and Coop had slept in the barn that night and the next.
    He stopped at the stall where the mare and the filly stayed, and slid over the door to go inside. Under Sam’s watchful eye, Coop murmured to the mare, ran his hands over her to check for heat, for strain. Carefully, he examined her udder, her teats. She stood placidly under the familiar touch while the filly butted her head to Coop’s ass to get his attention.
    He turned, rubbed her pretty buckskin coat.
    “That one’s yours as much as hers,” Sam told him. “You named her yet?”
    “Could be Lucky, because God knows. But it doesn’t suit her.” Coop checked the filly’s mouth, her teeth. He studied the big doe eyes. “It’s clichéd, but this one’s a princess. She sure thinks of herself that way.”
    “We’ll put it down that way. Cooper’s Princess. The rest is yours, too. You know that.”
    “Grandpa.”
    “I’ll have my say here. Your grandmother and I talked about it over the years. We couldn’t be sure you wanted it or not, but in the end, we made that legal. It’s yours when we’re gone. I want you to tell me if you want it or you don’t.”
    Cooper rose, and immediately the filly deserted him to nurse. “Yes, I want it.”
    “Good.” Sam gave a quick nod. “Now, are you going to play with those horses all day or see to the others?”
    Coop stepped out, secured the gate, then moved on to the next.
    “I got something else.” Sam’s cane rang on the concrete as he followed. “Man your age needs a place of his own. He’s got no business living with a couple of old people.”
    “You sure are into ‘old’ these days.”
    “That’s just right. I know you moved in to help out. That’s what kin does. I’m grateful nonetheless. But you can’t stay in the house this way.”
    “You kicking me out?”
    “I guess I am. Now, we can build something. Pick out a spot that suits you.”
    “I don’t see using the land to plant a house when we could be using it to plant crops or graze horses.”
    “You think like a farmer,” Sam said, with pride. “But still in all, a man needs his place. You can pick out some land and go that way. Or if that’s not what suits you, at least not right yet, you can fix the bunkhouse up. It’s a good size. Few walls in it, better floor. Might use a new roof. We can do that for you.”
    Coop checked the next mare, the next foal. “The bunkhouse would work for me. I’ll get it fixed up. I won’t take your money for it, Grandpa. That’s the line. A man has to have his pride,” he said. “I’ve got money. More than I need now.”
    Which was something he wanted to talk to his grandparents about. But not quite yet.
    “So I’ll look into it.”
    “That’s settled then.” Sam leaned on his cane and reached out to stroke the mare’s cheek. “There’s Lolly, there’s a girl. Given us three fine foals over the years. Sweet as a lollipop, aren’t you? Born to be a ma, and to take a rider up and give him a good, gentle ride.”
    Lolly blew at him, affectionately.
    “I need to sit a horse again, Cooper. Not being able to makes it feel like I lost this leg steada busting it.”
    “Okay. I’ll saddle a couple up.”
    Sam’s head snapped up, and in his eyes shone both shock and hope. “Your grandma’ll