The Land(8)

“Yeah, we’re sure sorry,” said Jack in sudden repentance as he glanced nervously back at the road, as if expecting my daddy and his at any moment. “It wasn’t right of us to put y’all on that Appaloosa.”

Robert suddenly found his tongue. “Paul here, he could ride that Appaloosa, he had a fair chance.”

The Waverlys laughed. “Yeah, sure he can,” mocked Christian. “Listen, nobody can ride that Appaloosa.”

“Paul can,” said Robert with assurance.

I cut Robert a sideways glance as the Waverlys again laughed.

Robert didn’t laugh; neither did I, though I wondered where Robert was going with this kind of talk.

“Wanna bet?” challenged my brother. “Paul, he ride the Appaloosa around this meadow without getting thrown, then he’s ours.”

“You’re crazy!” declared Percy.

“Paul gets thrown,” Robert went on, “then you keep the Appaloosa and we don’t tell our daddy or yours about what just happened. You don’t let Paul ride, then I’ll have to tell them everything . . . and about what happened to my arm.”

The Waverlys stopped their laughing.

“Got to make up your minds,” said Robert, still holding his wounded arm with his good one. “They’ll be back pretty soon, I expect.”

The Waverlys looked at one another and decided. “All right,” said Christian. “It’s a bet.”

It was then I pulled Robert aside. “You crazy?” I said, trying to keep my voice low. “What makes you think I can ride that horse?”

“’Cause you can ride anything,” Robert returned.

“I never been on a Appaloosa.”

“Yes you have,” said Robert. “Just now.”

I frowned apprehensively. “Don’t know wild horses.”

“Paul . . . you can ride anything.” His confidence in me was unwavering.

“Easy for you to say,” I retorted angrily. “And you could’ve asked me first!”

“’Ey! This boy going to ride, he better go on and do it,” called Percy. “Our daddies’ll be back any minute now.”

I looked again at Robert, then headed slowly toward the Appaloosa. I began talking softly to calm him, and when I reached him, I dug into my pocket and pulled out an apple wedge I had brought along for the horse I had ridden to the Waverly farm. The Appaloosa took it. I gave him a second piece and he let me pat his forehead. All the while, I was talking to him, telling him I would like to ride him and that nobody was going to slap him this time. I took the reins, then took the time to walk the Appaloosa around the meadow, talking softly to him and giving him apple wedges. Finally, when I knew there wasn’t much time left, I slowly mounted. The Appaloosa didn’t rear. I leaned low to his neck and laid my head against him. I stayed that way for a minute or two, then straightened. I kept on talking and pushed my knees gently inward, and the Appaloosa started across the meadow. Clearly, the horse had been ridden before, but not by the Waverlys. They were too clumsy to ride him.

Again I leaned forward along the Appaloosa’s neck. “All right, let’s really show them,” I said, feeling akin to him now. Then I straightened, dug in my knees, and we raced across the meadow. I had no fear of the Appaloosa throwing me this time. I was as one with him. The Appaloosa ran wild and free, enjoying the run, and allowed me the pleasure of enjoying it with him. I was still on the Appaloosa when I saw my daddy coming on Ghost Wind. It was clear the course was finished, for Mr. Waverly was mounted beside him, and George and Hammond were walking their horses behind. I slowed the Appaloosa and went to meet them.

“Don’t tell me you can ride that devil!” exclaimed Mr. Waverly as I jumped down.

“Paul can ride just about any horse alive,” said Robert proudly, and looked pointedly at the Waverly boys. I noticed the arm he had been holding was now hanging normally at his side.

Christian Waverly reddened, then said to his daddy, “Fact is, we made Robert here a wager, seeing it’s our horse and all. Said . . . said, um, if that boy there could ride him, the Appaloosa was his.”

“Well, seems like to me he rode him all right,” said Mr. Waverly, who then turned to my daddy. “Looks like your son Robert’s got himself a horse. What about you?”

“I think it’s time we talked terms,” said my daddy, patting Ghost Wind’s neck. “He’s a fine horse. As for the Appaloosa, we can talk about that too.”

“Good,” said Mr. Waverly before turning to his sons. “Christian, you boys wipe down that stallion and give him some water. Don’t want these folks thinking we don’t tend to our horses.” Then he and my daddy dismounted and went to the house to haggle price. George and Hammond dismounted too, and took a closer look at the Appaloosa, then pulled Robert and me over toward the barn while the Waverlys took care of the stallion. “Now, just how did you two manage to get those Waverly boys to wager their horse?” asked Hammond.