What did you do, drive with your head out the window?
No. I just sort of sat in the middle and looked out the good side.
He pushed at the windshield wiper lying inside across the dashboard.
I thought maybe you’d not got in yet.
We got in around five. What’d you do?
Nothin much.
You aint been rodeoin in the barn while I was gone have you?
Nope.
How’s your foot?
It’s all right.
Billy pushed the wiper up on its spring and pried the wiper arm off the capstan with the screwdriver and laid it on the seat.
You goin to get a new glass for it?
I’ll get Joaquín to bring one when he goes in. I dont want the old man to see it if I can help it.
Hell, anybody could run into a owl.
I know. But anybody didnt.
John Grady was leaning through the open window of the standing truck door. He turned and spat and leaned some more. Well, he said. I dont know what that means.
Billy laid the screwdriver in the seat. I dont either, he said. I dont know why I said it. Let’s go in and see if she’s got breakfast ready. I could eat the runnin gears of a bull moose.
When they sat down Oren looked up from his paper and studied John Grady over the tops of his glasses. How’s your foot? he said.
It’s all right.
I’ll bet.
It’s all right enough to ride a horse. That’s what you wanted to know isnt it?
Can you get that in a stirrup?
I dont have to.
Oren went back to his paper. They ate. After a while he put the paper down and took off his glasses and laid them on the table.
There’s a man sendin a two year old filly out here that he aims to give to his wife. I kept my own counsel on that. He dont know nothin about the horse other than its blood. Or any other horse I reckon probably you could say.
Is she broke?
The wife or the horse?
I’ll lay eight to five they aint either one, said JC. Sight unseen.
I dont know, said Oren. Green broke or some kind of broke. He wants to leave her here two weeks. I said we’d give her all the trainin she was capable of absorbin in that length of time and he seemed satisfied with that.
All right.
Billy, are you all workin with us this week?
I reckon.
What time did the man say they’d be here? said John Grady.
He said after breakfast. JC. You all ready?
I was born that way.
Well the day advanceth, said Oren. He put his glasses in his shirtpocket and pushed back his chair.
THEY PULLED INTO the yard in a pickup truck towing a new single trailer at about eight-thirty. John Grady walked out to meet them. The trailer was painted black and had the name of a ranch somewhere up in New Mexico that he’d never heard of painted on the side in gold. The two men unlatching and taking down the gate on the trailer nodded at him and the taller of the two looked briefly around the yard and then they backed the horse down the ramp.
Where’s Oren at? the tall man said.
John Grady watched the filly. She had a nervous look to her which was all right for a young mare offloaded onto strange terrain. He limped around to see her from the other side. Her eye followed him.
Walk her around.
What?
Walk her around.
Is Oren here?
No sir. He’s not. I’m the trainer. Just walk her around a minute and let me watch her.
The man stood for a minute. Then he handed the halter rope to the other man. Walk her around some there, Louis. He looked at John Grady. John Grady was watching the filly.
What time you expect him back?
Not till this evenin.
They watched the little filly walk up and back.
Are you the trainer sure enough?
Yessir.
What is it you’re lookin for?
John Grady studied the filly and he looked at the man. That horse is lame, he said.
Lame.
Yessir.
Shit, the man said.
The man walking the horse looked back over his shoulder.
Did you hear that, Louis? the man called to him.
Yeah. I heard it. You want to just go on and shoot her?
What makes you think that horse is lame? the man said.
Well sir. It’s not really a matter of what I think. She’s lame in the left foreleg. Let me look at her.
Bring her over here, Louis.
You reckon she can make it that far?
I dont know.
He brought the horse over and John Grady walked up to her and leaned against her with his shoulder and lifted her foreleg between his knees and examined the hoof. He ran his thumb around the frog and he examined the hoof wall. He leaned against the animal to feel her breathing and he talked to her and pulled his kerchief from his back pocket and wet it with spittle and began to clean the wall of the hoof.
Who put this on here? he said.
Put what?
This dressing. He held up the handkerchief to show them the stain from the hoof.
I dont know, the man said.
John Grady took out his pocketknife and opened it and ran the point of it down the side wall of the hoof. The man had come closer to watch him. He held up the knifeblade. See that? he said.