Post by Paradox Eyes on Nov 26, 2011 16:10:20 GMT -8
Author's note: I wrote this little piece ages ago. In it I wrote Jim West's horse as a stallion, in keeping with the 50's & 60's western lore of the hero always riding a stallion rather than a gelding. I guess anyone who has experience with horses knows a stallion living on a train probably wouldn't be the best idea. But then again, I guess that's why we suspend our logic & beliefs, so we can enjoy the make-believe of it all, like we did when we were kids.
“Hmmph! James, are you absolutely certain that you're not...oh I don't know...maybe CHEATING??!”
“ARRtieeee! Jim West gave his partner his best hurt puppy look while holding his hand to his heart. “How could I be cheating? I'm in shirtsleeves and they're rolled up! And I've had both hands on the table at all times! You picked the cards and the game! Now how could I be cheating?” Jim bobbled his head at his partner in good natured fun. “I'm just a natural at this.” He grinned at his run of good luck today as he laid down a Jack and a ten of spades.
“Unh-huh,” Artie grunted. “No one wins at Black Jack seven times in a row.” He was now rather irritated with himself for letting Jim continue to get the better of him in the game. Worse yet, he couldn't figure out how he was doing it. But then again, that was one of the things he liked best about Jim. Just when you thought you had the man figured out, he surprised you from out of nowhere. Unpredictable, that's what he was and he made it work so well for him, time and time again. Artie also knew he could have stopped the annoying losses several games ago. But they were about to go on a four week leave and he was enjoying some of their more relaxing conversation before they split up and went their separate ways.
“What can I say Artie? The game of Black Jack and I were made for each other. You know how I like to win.” Jim grinned widely. “We're a winning combination!”
Artie groaned and changed the subject. “You sure you don't want to come with me for a few days, Jim? It's San Francisco! Nightlife! Fine dining! Pretty girls!”
“No, my mind is made up. I'm going to do it. Besides, you'll want time to go to museums and libraries and science fairs during the day. And I know you've got a list of old friends to visit. Enjoy yourself, Artie. I need the extra time for this. I'll be fine.”
“It's just kind of sad, that's all. I mean the two of you have been together so long.” He knew Jim would absolutely fight getting emotional about this but Artie still wanted him to talk about it.
“It's time Artie. He's been the very best, but he's getting a little long in the tooth and he's not as spry as he used to be. I think life on the train is getting hard for him too. He's got his eyebrows nearly rubbed completely off now. I think it's become nerve-wracking for him. I don't want to wait so long, it becomes a safety issue.”
“Where will you take him?”
“That's the beauty of it, Artie. The same ranch. My cousin Pete not only raises the best quarter-horses money can buy, but he's got a daughter who's about thirteen now. Every time I've ever visited, she's more excited to see my horse than me. For some reason she just fell in love with him the first time she ever saw him. She begs to ride on him every time. She's old enough now. I'm going to give him to her. I've already made arrangements with Pete.”
Artemus nodded his head. He was sure he could read a wistfulness in Jim's face.
“He'll have a great retirement, Artie. Plenty of pastures to run in. Pretty mares for company. And someone to love him. You can't ask for more than that.”
“Well since you put it that way. I envy him already!”
Jim finally seemed more willing to discuss it now. “A couple of months ago, Pete offered me a Palomino that he thought was perfect for me. I turned him down.”
“Why?”
“I guess I wasn't ready. Besides how do you think I'd look on a Palomino?”
“You'd look great Jim! You'd look like...Jim West on a Palomino...” Artie squelched a wince as his voice faded. That might take some getting used to, he decided quietly.
“This week, Pete wired me to tell me he has a chestnut mare that he thinks is perfect.” Jim didn't sound too enthused.
“Chestnuts are nice.” Artie quipped with encouragement. “I happen to know a very nice chestnut!”
Jim almost smiled. “It's not the color, Artie. It's what's on the inside. That old boy of mine has a lot of smarts and he's long on heart. That's what's going to be hard to replace.”
Artie nodded in understanding.
The train started to slow as they approached the station. Artie got up and patted his partner's shoulder. “Looks like it's time to get packed up and start enjoying our leaves!” Artie peeked out the window. He turned back to see Jim's still pensive expression. “I hope you find what you're looking for Jim and I hope you get to enjoy some of the next four weeks, instead of just working on your cousin's ranch.”
“I hope so too, Artie. I hope so too.”
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The Mohrland ranch was tucked in a quiet rich valley of the California landscape. Horses and cattle dotted the picturesque pasture lands. It's owner, a tall muscular, sandy haired man in his fortieth year had worked hard build a good reputation as a top horse breeder. He also prided himself on having an ability to match his horses to men and their particular needs. For the moment, Pete Mohrland stood watching the exchange between his daughter and his cousin who had arrived at the ranch early this morning.
“Really?! Really and truly cousin James?!!” Thirteen year old Melissa Mohrland was beside herself with excitement when Jim handed her the reins to his faithful companion. “Oh THANK YOU!!” Jim leaned down enough for her to give him a hug with her reaching arms and a kiss on the cheek. “He's really going to be mine? You're just giving him to me?!”
“Well, conditioned on whether or not your father has a suitable replacement for me.” Jim smiled at his young cousin. “And...if you're sure you can handle him. He may be getting up in years but he still has a lot of spunk left.”
“Oh I can handle him alright! Don't you worry about that and I'll take such good care of him! And Father has the best quarter-horses in the state of California or anywhere else for that matter!”
Pete Mohrland pulled himself up with pride. “As you can plainly see, Jim, the girl isn't biased at all!” They watched her mount up on the Secret Service agent's old friend and trot him out through the gate. Pete was already lining up several choices in his mind for Jim to have a look at. But top on his list was a mare that that Pete thought certain would fit Jim's needs.
Jim felt a twinge of sadness watching his old friend depart out across the grassy land, but it was time. A younger, stronger, surer mount was imperative in his work. He just hoped he could find one that would train up as well as his old horse had. As much as he trusted his cousin Pete's eye for horses, he'd have to make his own choice in the end.
“It's good to have you here, Jim. It's been a while.” Pete and Jim started walking toward the barns. “The Secret Service seems to agree with you, you look great!”
“Thanks, Pete.” Jim let his eyes wander around as they walked.
“You sure you want to spend your vacation out here training a green horse?” Peter queried. “I'd have thought you'd have taken advantage of the San Franciscan hospitality, at least part of the time.”
“I'm sure. Four weeks isn't a lot of time for training but it'll have to do. Then the new one will have to learn as we go.”
“You're the boss. Come on then. Let me show you what good breeding can produce these days.” The two men headed toward the corrals.
“I've got one in mind for you, Jim. She's a beauty. That chestnut mare I wired you about. Four years old. Took to the saddle like a fish to water. Smart as a whip too! Good solid bones. Fast on her feet. Real nice conformation, she's... Jim?” Pete turned around to see where his cousin had disappeared to.
Jim had suddenly veered from their intended direction and was walking toward a small paddock, where a black horse trotted back and forth with a nervous energy. At Jim's approach, the animal held its head high and trumpeted.
Jim West appraised the dark colt. The young stallion carried himself with an unwavering confidence. His sleek black coat glowed almost brown at moments. Good lines, rippling muscle tone and abundant energy made him something to behold. When he stopped for a moment to watch Jim approach the fence, there was an intelligence in those eyes that Jim thought most people might miss with all the showiness. He guessed the colt to be about three to three and half years old.
James West liked what he saw.
“You don't want that one Jim.” Pete stepped up beside him now. “Jake Hansen is my best wrangler and now he's laid up with a broken arm because of that devil's shenanigans.”
Jim smiled. “Then maybe Jake isn't as 'best' as you think he is.”
“Ha! You're wrong about that! Jake can wrangle anything and has wrangled most. But that one...that one's got a wicked sense of humor. And if horses have souls, his is as dark as a starless night. He's not the one for you. Not in your line of business. He'd be unsafe.”
“Tell me about him anyway.”
Pete shook his head. “Well, he's got himself some fine bloodlines. Sired by my best stallion Nickel Eye Ridge; out one of my finest dams, Sweet Creek. What he doesn't have is a fine disposition.” They watched as the colt suddenly reared, pawing the air. Then he bucked and farted and took off as fast as he could, hurtling around the paddock like he was mad.
Jim laughed. “He's full of himself, I'll give him that.”
“Yeah, well, I should have gelded him.” Pete muttered. “He's got way too much attitude for his own good. He's a smart one though and he had such a nice confirmation and way about him, from young on, that I thought he'd be a prime cow pony and worth a mint in stud. He's full of himself alright, himself and the devil's mischief. Does what he dang well pleases and when you least expect it with the strength to back it up. Sneaky little brute, I wouldn't turn my back on him. Takes three men just to put leather on his stubborn self.” Pete swung his head in disappointment. He clapped a hand on Jim's shoulder. “Come on Jim, let me show you that mare I was talking about.”
“Let me try him.”
Pete laughed. He knew his cousin well enough. There'd be no dissuading him now. Even when they were kids, when Jim got it in his head to go after something there was seldom any stopping him. “You always did like to walk on the edge Jim. All right, it's your funeral.”
“Bill!” Pete called out to one of his men who just happened to exit the barn. “BILL!”
“Yeah, Boss?”
“You and a couple of the boys get a saddle on that black in the paddock.” He grinned widely. “My cousin Jim here is feelin' a mite suicidal today!”
Bill gave James West a skeptical look and winked at Pete. “Sure thing, boss.”
“Now then James...where'd you say your partner is staying? You know...just in case I need to contact him to come by and pick up your remains.” He laughed at his own joke and tilted his head in amusement, but Jim was already intently studying the black colt's movements.
Jim watched as the three men guided the black into a corner. One thing about Pete Mohrland, he never hired anyone who would manhandle or abuse his horses. He was a steadfast believer that a firm steady hand was all that was really needed.
The black stood for the bit and bridle without much ado but when the saddle approached, he laid his ears back. He deftly maneuvered and muscled the three men, aggressively pushing them back, showing his displeasure. But still he didn't blow up on them. His ears alternated between flat and alert and his eyes watched everything while he issued short warning snorts. Then they locked on the new stranger who approached. With his attention somewhat diverted the men saddled him, quickly pulling the cinch up snug.
Jim West spoke to the horse in a low even tone, running his hand across the glossy coat, letting him feel his touch. “Easy boy. Easy.” In one quick fluid movement he was up in the saddle. He nodded to the men. They let go and quickly climbed over the fence rails. The black stood only for a moment, then his ears flattened once more and he went airborne.
Jim had anticipated the explosion of horsepower and easily stayed with him. The black bucked and lunged, twisting left and right. But Jim West had a natural affinity for horses and to him their sudden moves weren't all that different from a good street fight. He let the black settle into a rhythm of bucking and turning. He calmly stayed with him while voices shouted from the fence.
“Hold on to him, West!”
“You've got him now, Jim!”
“Ride him, West!”
He wasn't exactly sure what happened in the next split second, but he did later recall being mildly surprised that he could see the texture of the peeling paint, right before the fence board hit his arm and face full on.
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“Jim?” Someone was calling his name. “Jim? Come on now. Open your eyes.”
Was it raining? The rain was cold.
“I think he's comin' around. Sop some more of that canteen water on his face.” Another voice spoke from the side.
The green eyes flicked open. His cousin Pete grinned down at him. “So then, cousin...did you enjoy your ride?” He motioned to Bill to help him pull Jim into a sitting position.
He sat up, his head still spinning.
“Here. Hold this this to your split lip before you bleed all over the place.” Pete handed him a soaking wet handkerchief.
Jim pressed the cool cloth to his mouth while his head cleared. No horse had ever unseated him like that before. He suddenly struggled to his feet and stumbled back to the paddock fence. The black now regarded him with a calculating vigilance that Jim could immediately see. And he could have sworn he saw amusement in those brown eyes too.
Pete grabbed his arm to steady him. “Jim, are you alright? Say something would ya?”
Jim's eyes never left the black. Somewhere in his mind the gauntlet made a resounding slap. “I'll take him.” The words were metallic in his mouth. “You want cash or a bank draft?”
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The next morning, the black colt, just four months shy of his fourth year watched the stranger approach the paddock. No one had fed him yet this morning so he paid a special hopeful attention to the man right now.
Jim leaned over the paddock fence. “Well pal, it's just you and me now. If you want your breakfast, it's me you'll come to for it.” He studied the colt for a moment and the colt studied him in return.
He walked into the barn and few moments later returned with a feed bucket, hay, saddle blanket and grooming tools. He whistled.
Whistle. Food. That wasn't a hard concept. The colt came willingly. He didn't care who fed him. He waited at the manger, expecting the grain to pour into it. But the stranger stepped through the gate instead, holding the bucket close. He whistled again.
The black snorted and eyed the man more carefully now. When the bucket didn't seem to be forthcoming, he went to the man instead. He'd been handled off and on since he was a foal, so it wasn't that much cause for concern. The man touched him. He tossed his head, annoyed. He wanted his grain. Then he deftly reached his head around the hand and slipped his muzzle into the bucket to eat. The hand caressed him now, and this time he accepted it, as long as he could have the grain. The voice that accompanied it was confident and soothing. His sharp silken ears rotated to the words, monitoring them, finding the sounds of the man not that unpleasing.
Jim took hold of his halter and led him back to the manger to let him eat the rest. Picking up the grooming tools, he ran the curry and brush over the silken coat of his new horse. He talked to him continually, letting him become accustomed to him.
The colt appeared to be on his best behavior this morning, as Jim expected he would be during feeding. He was also pretty sure the young horse was more than bored in the small paddock. He smiled. Everything this young mount knew was about to change radically.
Jim picked up the saddle blanket, never changing the tone of his voice and began dragging it over the glossy coat. He flopped it on his back, pulled it off and swung it around his legs, testing to see if he'd spook. The colt momentarily eyed it suspiciously then went back to feeding, ignoring it from then on.
“Good boy.” Jim patted him and placed the blanket on the smooth back once more.
Then he went to fetch his tack.
The colt's happy chewing stopped the instant he spied 'that contraption'. He watched the man carry it closer and tensed himself. But the man didn't throw it on his back. Instead he let him look at it, sniff it and even slobber on it, tasting it. It smelled of another horse and the sent was mingled with the smell of this man. Then it dropped to the ground. The colt jumped.
“Easy buddy. It doesn't bite.” The hands and voice calmed him. The colt reached down and sniffed it again, running his lip over the surface. Then Jim guided his head back up, slipping the bit into his mouth and sliding the headstall over his ears. The colt took the bit and bridle well. Jim was glad to see that anyway. He left the halter in place under the bridle, using it to lead the colt to the strongest post where he tied him. Jim patted his neck, soothing him. “Saddle next, buddy. And we are going to do this with just you and me. Got it?”
The black colt's ears rotated in an unbecoming manner. And Jim briefly thought, If looks could kill…
Jim approached with the saddle. True to his behavior the day before, the black swung his body violently around and attempted to shove the man away. But Jim already knew what was coming and he leveraged his own weight and pushed back...hard. “Rule number one,” he said in his even tone, deftly placing the saddle on his horse. “I'm the boss.”
A disapproving snort said the colt had other ideas. The saddle went flying.
Jim pushed his hat back. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, I left my whole vacation open just for you, fella. So we're gonna do this until we reach an understanding.” He smiled at the colt.
The colt stared back with ears pricked forward. Then he blinked at the man with a subtle curiosity in his eyes. He could bide his time too, it was a talent that came naturally.
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Over the ensuing days, Jim didn't attempt to ride the colt. Instead they worked on a lounge line, learning simple commands, handling and of course the saddle. It went on and came off repeatedly until the colt accepted it without giving it much, if any more consideration. That first week they settled into a daily routine with Jim adding to it as they worked together.
The black colt found the man to be patient but firm in his demands and eventually he began to enjoy the attention and activity the man provided. Not to mention the treats and attentive grooming the man gave him at the end of the day's work. He quickly formed an attachment to 'his' man and even whinnied in anticipation when he came to him every day.
The telling moment finally arrived.
As Jim spoke to the black colt and ran his hand down the strong neck, he quickly placed a foot in the stirrup and was up in the saddle in an instant. The colt grunted in shocked surprise. He liked his man just fine, as long as he was on the ground. He blew a loud disparaging snort, then he lounged.
Every trick the young horse had previously employed, he tried expertly in those first few moments, but his new master stayed put. The colt finally gave in, settled down and tried a few steps, just carrying the man.
Jim reached down and patted him, praising him. This was going smoother than he thought it would. The colt was an excellent student, every bit as smart as Jim had hoped and a fast learner. He started putting his young horse through some paces. The colt danced from side to side as they circled the corral and finally settled into a smoother gate. Jim relaxed his guard only for a second...his mount sensed it instantly.
Capriciously, without the slightest warning, the colt leapt, performing a peculiar lounging twist, pitching his rider from the saddle.
Jim hit the ground once again, landing on his face and shoulder, nearly knocking the sense out of him again. He lay there a moment, blinking in surprise. He slowly propped himself up on one elbow, mouth open, starring back at the black, momentarily stunned. His horse stood looking back at him triumphantly. Then he stepped over to his man and reached down to nuzzle him.
Pete was right, the horse did have a wicked sense of humor. Jim finally laughed out loud. “OK, so you're a thinker! And you plan ahead. Qualities I like in a partner.” The black tossed his head. “And...you have some raw talents that are going to come in handy once we teach you what to do with them.” He dragged himself back up on his feet, catching his breath. “Come here.” He whistled lightly. The black perked his ears and obediently came closer to his new master. Jim stroked his contrary mount's face. “Rule number two,” he said wryly. “That is the last time you're ever going to toss ME! And you are not to tell Artie about this, ever! He finds out I let you throw me twice, I'll never live it down!”
The black nickered softly in reply and head butted his master in the chest. Jim smiled and spoke to him in a low easy voice. “It's not a dark soul in there, is it? It's a smart one that likes to challenge and be challenged. Trust me, buddy, you're going to get all the challenges you can want.” Jim patted him affectionately and jumped back up in the saddle. This time they worked out in earnest with only a few more physical disputes to test them both.
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“Morning Jim!” Pete entered the kitchen and passed Jim on his way to the morning coffee pot. He stopped dead in his tracks and backed up a few steps, stared at the bruises on his cousin's face. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, that is a beaut of a shiner you've got there! You and that horse get engaged yet or are the two of you two still courting?” He chuckled.
Jim winced. “You're a funny man Pete. The black is working out fine. We just had a little difference of opinion.”
“Uh-huh...ya don't say? Well, I do find a sense of humor helps to dull the pain.” Pete joked back. Then his voice took a more serious tone. “Jim, I don't doubt your skills as a horseman, but are you sure you want that black colt? He's gonna be handful on a good day. I'd think you'd want something a little more steady and cooperative. Why don't you just try that mare I told you about? She's smart, she can turn on a dime and give you change, fast as greased lightning and so sweet she'll tuck you into bed at night.” He grinned.
“No. I want the black, Pete. I know he's high strung and willful, but he'll be perfect once I get him trained.” Jim sipped his coffee.
Pete blew on his own coffee to cool it then shook his head. He was quite familiar with his cousin's own headstrong history. “Somehow I suspect there was a time when someone said the very same thing about you, James.” He winked.
Jim just smirked and refilled his coffee cup.
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At the end of three weeks, Bill the ranch hand was walking with Pete, when their attention was drawn to the cloud of dust out beyond the ranch complex.
Bill whistled under his breath. “Well I'll be danged. I thought sure that horse would break him in two first.”
Pete smiled widely as they watched Jim West and his horse perform a stunt Pete had never even imagined one of his horses doing. Then they watched the black horse lurch upward from a prone state of lying flat on the ground with Jim slipping back into the saddle as his mount found his stride again.
“Will you look at that?” Pete exclaimed. “I always knew that colt had something special in him.” He quickly cast a glance at Bill. “I mean besides the devil. I guess he just needed the right handler to find it.” The horse and rider continued on, racing across the open ground, then cutting sharp turns around markers Jim had laid out.
“They're a pair, that's for sure.” Bill agreed. “You know...I'm gonna miss the daily circus when they're gone.”
Pete grinned. “Me too.”
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Artemus Gordon pulled out his gold pocket watch and checked the time. Jim should be arriving soon as per the message delivered to Artie's hotel. He leaned against the porch support on the boardwalk just outside the saloon. Normally he would have waited inside, enjoying a early libation. But he had just had to see Jim ride in. He wondered if his partner had really done it. Had he really acquired a new horse while he was gone? If so, Artie was eager to see what Jim would show up on.
A flicker of bright blue caught his eye down the street and he straightened up, watching. There he was at last...James West. A smile pulled across Artie's face. He slowly shook his head in wonder. Leave it to Jim West all right...leave it to Jim to find himself a horse that would turn every head on the street. And another black one to boot.
He watched his partner ride toward him on a compact, muscular, prancing black quarter horse. The animal held himself like he was the king of all his own domain and any beyond, dancing to the left, dancing to the right and Jim sitting on him like he'd been there all his life. Artie had to admit, they were a sight to see. People all along the street paused and looked at them as they moved by. Jim tipped his hat, smiling to a pair of pretty young ladies who blushed and smiled back. Artie rolled his eyes and chuckled. They finally reached the saloon and Jim reined the black toward Artie.
“Welcome back, Jim!” He called out.
“Thanks, Artie! What do you think of him?” Jim and the black stepped up to the hitching rail in front of him.
Artie studied the gleaming black horse as he snorted and danced in place. “Well, he's certainly full of piss and vinegar!”
Jim dismounted. He stepped toward his partner and they shook hands in greeting. Jim took his hat off and proudly regarded his new mount. “I like him that way!”
Artie nodded his head appreciatively. “I just hope he likes a rider who's the same!” He elbowed his partner playfully. “Really though, he's a fine looking piece of horseflesh Jim. He might even be just a tad more handsome than you!”
Jim laughed. “Come on Artie, I'll buy you a drink and we can catch up.”
“James, I thought you'd never ask.” They headed into the saloon just as a ruckus broke out across the street inside the general store. The partners were half way to a table when they heard the shouts out on the street. The two men ran out onto the boardwalk, just in time to see a running thief jump on Jim's black horse and goad him into a gallop down the street.
“Jim...he just stole your new horse!” Artie exclaimed.
“No, he didn't.” Jim answered calmly.
“Uhhh...?!” Artemus dramatically swept his hand in the direction of the fleeing mount. “...Ahemmm?!”
Jim pushed his hat back on his head and stepped into the street. He whistled a loud sharp clear note that cut across the distance.
The black horse suddenly threw all four hooves forward and dug in, heaving dirt everywhere as he abruptly slid to a stop. Then with barely a hesitation he reared violently, twisting and unseating his unauthorized rider. The young man hit the dirt hard. Onlookers rushed out to help pick him up and bring him back.
The black horse snorted once, then swinging his head low, he galloped back to his master. Now tossing his head proudly, he stopped in front of Jim. Suddenly he calmed down and stood quietly. Jim reached out, taking hold of his bridle and patted the black's face and neck. “Good boy!” He praised him. “That was fun, wasn't it?”
Artemus hummed in awe. “Very impressive! How long did it take you to teach him that?”
“I didn't.” Jim laughed. “It's the first trick he taught me! He's a very educated horse Artie!”
“So...does this one have a name?” Artie could see Jim was immensely fond of the animal already.
“Yup.”
“Well? What is it?”
But Jim didn't answer Artemus directly. Instead he spoke to his horse addressing him by his chosen name. Artie nodded his head in approval as Jim turned back toward him to finish his sentence.
“...and we're going to be a winning combination, Artie!”
“I have no doubt of that, James.” Artie grinned as he watched the two of them. “No doubt at all!”
The end.
The Night of the Dark Horse
By Paradox Eyes
By Paradox Eyes
“Hmmph! James, are you absolutely certain that you're not...oh I don't know...maybe CHEATING??!”
“ARRtieeee! Jim West gave his partner his best hurt puppy look while holding his hand to his heart. “How could I be cheating? I'm in shirtsleeves and they're rolled up! And I've had both hands on the table at all times! You picked the cards and the game! Now how could I be cheating?” Jim bobbled his head at his partner in good natured fun. “I'm just a natural at this.” He grinned at his run of good luck today as he laid down a Jack and a ten of spades.
“Unh-huh,” Artie grunted. “No one wins at Black Jack seven times in a row.” He was now rather irritated with himself for letting Jim continue to get the better of him in the game. Worse yet, he couldn't figure out how he was doing it. But then again, that was one of the things he liked best about Jim. Just when you thought you had the man figured out, he surprised you from out of nowhere. Unpredictable, that's what he was and he made it work so well for him, time and time again. Artie also knew he could have stopped the annoying losses several games ago. But they were about to go on a four week leave and he was enjoying some of their more relaxing conversation before they split up and went their separate ways.
“What can I say Artie? The game of Black Jack and I were made for each other. You know how I like to win.” Jim grinned widely. “We're a winning combination!”
Artie groaned and changed the subject. “You sure you don't want to come with me for a few days, Jim? It's San Francisco! Nightlife! Fine dining! Pretty girls!”
“No, my mind is made up. I'm going to do it. Besides, you'll want time to go to museums and libraries and science fairs during the day. And I know you've got a list of old friends to visit. Enjoy yourself, Artie. I need the extra time for this. I'll be fine.”
“It's just kind of sad, that's all. I mean the two of you have been together so long.” He knew Jim would absolutely fight getting emotional about this but Artie still wanted him to talk about it.
“It's time Artie. He's been the very best, but he's getting a little long in the tooth and he's not as spry as he used to be. I think life on the train is getting hard for him too. He's got his eyebrows nearly rubbed completely off now. I think it's become nerve-wracking for him. I don't want to wait so long, it becomes a safety issue.”
“Where will you take him?”
“That's the beauty of it, Artie. The same ranch. My cousin Pete not only raises the best quarter-horses money can buy, but he's got a daughter who's about thirteen now. Every time I've ever visited, she's more excited to see my horse than me. For some reason she just fell in love with him the first time she ever saw him. She begs to ride on him every time. She's old enough now. I'm going to give him to her. I've already made arrangements with Pete.”
Artemus nodded his head. He was sure he could read a wistfulness in Jim's face.
“He'll have a great retirement, Artie. Plenty of pastures to run in. Pretty mares for company. And someone to love him. You can't ask for more than that.”
“Well since you put it that way. I envy him already!”
Jim finally seemed more willing to discuss it now. “A couple of months ago, Pete offered me a Palomino that he thought was perfect for me. I turned him down.”
“Why?”
“I guess I wasn't ready. Besides how do you think I'd look on a Palomino?”
“You'd look great Jim! You'd look like...Jim West on a Palomino...” Artie squelched a wince as his voice faded. That might take some getting used to, he decided quietly.
“This week, Pete wired me to tell me he has a chestnut mare that he thinks is perfect.” Jim didn't sound too enthused.
“Chestnuts are nice.” Artie quipped with encouragement. “I happen to know a very nice chestnut!”
Jim almost smiled. “It's not the color, Artie. It's what's on the inside. That old boy of mine has a lot of smarts and he's long on heart. That's what's going to be hard to replace.”
Artie nodded in understanding.
The train started to slow as they approached the station. Artie got up and patted his partner's shoulder. “Looks like it's time to get packed up and start enjoying our leaves!” Artie peeked out the window. He turned back to see Jim's still pensive expression. “I hope you find what you're looking for Jim and I hope you get to enjoy some of the next four weeks, instead of just working on your cousin's ranch.”
“I hope so too, Artie. I hope so too.”
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The Mohrland ranch was tucked in a quiet rich valley of the California landscape. Horses and cattle dotted the picturesque pasture lands. It's owner, a tall muscular, sandy haired man in his fortieth year had worked hard build a good reputation as a top horse breeder. He also prided himself on having an ability to match his horses to men and their particular needs. For the moment, Pete Mohrland stood watching the exchange between his daughter and his cousin who had arrived at the ranch early this morning.
“Really?! Really and truly cousin James?!!” Thirteen year old Melissa Mohrland was beside herself with excitement when Jim handed her the reins to his faithful companion. “Oh THANK YOU!!” Jim leaned down enough for her to give him a hug with her reaching arms and a kiss on the cheek. “He's really going to be mine? You're just giving him to me?!”
“Well, conditioned on whether or not your father has a suitable replacement for me.” Jim smiled at his young cousin. “And...if you're sure you can handle him. He may be getting up in years but he still has a lot of spunk left.”
“Oh I can handle him alright! Don't you worry about that and I'll take such good care of him! And Father has the best quarter-horses in the state of California or anywhere else for that matter!”
Pete Mohrland pulled himself up with pride. “As you can plainly see, Jim, the girl isn't biased at all!” They watched her mount up on the Secret Service agent's old friend and trot him out through the gate. Pete was already lining up several choices in his mind for Jim to have a look at. But top on his list was a mare that that Pete thought certain would fit Jim's needs.
Jim felt a twinge of sadness watching his old friend depart out across the grassy land, but it was time. A younger, stronger, surer mount was imperative in his work. He just hoped he could find one that would train up as well as his old horse had. As much as he trusted his cousin Pete's eye for horses, he'd have to make his own choice in the end.
“It's good to have you here, Jim. It's been a while.” Pete and Jim started walking toward the barns. “The Secret Service seems to agree with you, you look great!”
“Thanks, Pete.” Jim let his eyes wander around as they walked.
“You sure you want to spend your vacation out here training a green horse?” Peter queried. “I'd have thought you'd have taken advantage of the San Franciscan hospitality, at least part of the time.”
“I'm sure. Four weeks isn't a lot of time for training but it'll have to do. Then the new one will have to learn as we go.”
“You're the boss. Come on then. Let me show you what good breeding can produce these days.” The two men headed toward the corrals.
“I've got one in mind for you, Jim. She's a beauty. That chestnut mare I wired you about. Four years old. Took to the saddle like a fish to water. Smart as a whip too! Good solid bones. Fast on her feet. Real nice conformation, she's... Jim?” Pete turned around to see where his cousin had disappeared to.
Jim had suddenly veered from their intended direction and was walking toward a small paddock, where a black horse trotted back and forth with a nervous energy. At Jim's approach, the animal held its head high and trumpeted.
Jim West appraised the dark colt. The young stallion carried himself with an unwavering confidence. His sleek black coat glowed almost brown at moments. Good lines, rippling muscle tone and abundant energy made him something to behold. When he stopped for a moment to watch Jim approach the fence, there was an intelligence in those eyes that Jim thought most people might miss with all the showiness. He guessed the colt to be about three to three and half years old.
James West liked what he saw.
“You don't want that one Jim.” Pete stepped up beside him now. “Jake Hansen is my best wrangler and now he's laid up with a broken arm because of that devil's shenanigans.”
Jim smiled. “Then maybe Jake isn't as 'best' as you think he is.”
“Ha! You're wrong about that! Jake can wrangle anything and has wrangled most. But that one...that one's got a wicked sense of humor. And if horses have souls, his is as dark as a starless night. He's not the one for you. Not in your line of business. He'd be unsafe.”
“Tell me about him anyway.”
Pete shook his head. “Well, he's got himself some fine bloodlines. Sired by my best stallion Nickel Eye Ridge; out one of my finest dams, Sweet Creek. What he doesn't have is a fine disposition.” They watched as the colt suddenly reared, pawing the air. Then he bucked and farted and took off as fast as he could, hurtling around the paddock like he was mad.
Jim laughed. “He's full of himself, I'll give him that.”
“Yeah, well, I should have gelded him.” Pete muttered. “He's got way too much attitude for his own good. He's a smart one though and he had such a nice confirmation and way about him, from young on, that I thought he'd be a prime cow pony and worth a mint in stud. He's full of himself alright, himself and the devil's mischief. Does what he dang well pleases and when you least expect it with the strength to back it up. Sneaky little brute, I wouldn't turn my back on him. Takes three men just to put leather on his stubborn self.” Pete swung his head in disappointment. He clapped a hand on Jim's shoulder. “Come on Jim, let me show you that mare I was talking about.”
“Let me try him.”
Pete laughed. He knew his cousin well enough. There'd be no dissuading him now. Even when they were kids, when Jim got it in his head to go after something there was seldom any stopping him. “You always did like to walk on the edge Jim. All right, it's your funeral.”
“Bill!” Pete called out to one of his men who just happened to exit the barn. “BILL!”
“Yeah, Boss?”
“You and a couple of the boys get a saddle on that black in the paddock.” He grinned widely. “My cousin Jim here is feelin' a mite suicidal today!”
Bill gave James West a skeptical look and winked at Pete. “Sure thing, boss.”
“Now then James...where'd you say your partner is staying? You know...just in case I need to contact him to come by and pick up your remains.” He laughed at his own joke and tilted his head in amusement, but Jim was already intently studying the black colt's movements.
Jim watched as the three men guided the black into a corner. One thing about Pete Mohrland, he never hired anyone who would manhandle or abuse his horses. He was a steadfast believer that a firm steady hand was all that was really needed.
The black stood for the bit and bridle without much ado but when the saddle approached, he laid his ears back. He deftly maneuvered and muscled the three men, aggressively pushing them back, showing his displeasure. But still he didn't blow up on them. His ears alternated between flat and alert and his eyes watched everything while he issued short warning snorts. Then they locked on the new stranger who approached. With his attention somewhat diverted the men saddled him, quickly pulling the cinch up snug.
Jim West spoke to the horse in a low even tone, running his hand across the glossy coat, letting him feel his touch. “Easy boy. Easy.” In one quick fluid movement he was up in the saddle. He nodded to the men. They let go and quickly climbed over the fence rails. The black stood only for a moment, then his ears flattened once more and he went airborne.
Jim had anticipated the explosion of horsepower and easily stayed with him. The black bucked and lunged, twisting left and right. But Jim West had a natural affinity for horses and to him their sudden moves weren't all that different from a good street fight. He let the black settle into a rhythm of bucking and turning. He calmly stayed with him while voices shouted from the fence.
“Hold on to him, West!”
“You've got him now, Jim!”
“Ride him, West!”
He wasn't exactly sure what happened in the next split second, but he did later recall being mildly surprised that he could see the texture of the peeling paint, right before the fence board hit his arm and face full on.
<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>
“Jim?” Someone was calling his name. “Jim? Come on now. Open your eyes.”
Was it raining? The rain was cold.
“I think he's comin' around. Sop some more of that canteen water on his face.” Another voice spoke from the side.
The green eyes flicked open. His cousin Pete grinned down at him. “So then, cousin...did you enjoy your ride?” He motioned to Bill to help him pull Jim into a sitting position.
He sat up, his head still spinning.
“Here. Hold this this to your split lip before you bleed all over the place.” Pete handed him a soaking wet handkerchief.
Jim pressed the cool cloth to his mouth while his head cleared. No horse had ever unseated him like that before. He suddenly struggled to his feet and stumbled back to the paddock fence. The black now regarded him with a calculating vigilance that Jim could immediately see. And he could have sworn he saw amusement in those brown eyes too.
Pete grabbed his arm to steady him. “Jim, are you alright? Say something would ya?”
Jim's eyes never left the black. Somewhere in his mind the gauntlet made a resounding slap. “I'll take him.” The words were metallic in his mouth. “You want cash or a bank draft?”
<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>
The next morning, the black colt, just four months shy of his fourth year watched the stranger approach the paddock. No one had fed him yet this morning so he paid a special hopeful attention to the man right now.
Jim leaned over the paddock fence. “Well pal, it's just you and me now. If you want your breakfast, it's me you'll come to for it.” He studied the colt for a moment and the colt studied him in return.
He walked into the barn and few moments later returned with a feed bucket, hay, saddle blanket and grooming tools. He whistled.
Whistle. Food. That wasn't a hard concept. The colt came willingly. He didn't care who fed him. He waited at the manger, expecting the grain to pour into it. But the stranger stepped through the gate instead, holding the bucket close. He whistled again.
The black snorted and eyed the man more carefully now. When the bucket didn't seem to be forthcoming, he went to the man instead. He'd been handled off and on since he was a foal, so it wasn't that much cause for concern. The man touched him. He tossed his head, annoyed. He wanted his grain. Then he deftly reached his head around the hand and slipped his muzzle into the bucket to eat. The hand caressed him now, and this time he accepted it, as long as he could have the grain. The voice that accompanied it was confident and soothing. His sharp silken ears rotated to the words, monitoring them, finding the sounds of the man not that unpleasing.
Jim took hold of his halter and led him back to the manger to let him eat the rest. Picking up the grooming tools, he ran the curry and brush over the silken coat of his new horse. He talked to him continually, letting him become accustomed to him.
The colt appeared to be on his best behavior this morning, as Jim expected he would be during feeding. He was also pretty sure the young horse was more than bored in the small paddock. He smiled. Everything this young mount knew was about to change radically.
Jim picked up the saddle blanket, never changing the tone of his voice and began dragging it over the glossy coat. He flopped it on his back, pulled it off and swung it around his legs, testing to see if he'd spook. The colt momentarily eyed it suspiciously then went back to feeding, ignoring it from then on.
“Good boy.” Jim patted him and placed the blanket on the smooth back once more.
Then he went to fetch his tack.
The colt's happy chewing stopped the instant he spied 'that contraption'. He watched the man carry it closer and tensed himself. But the man didn't throw it on his back. Instead he let him look at it, sniff it and even slobber on it, tasting it. It smelled of another horse and the sent was mingled with the smell of this man. Then it dropped to the ground. The colt jumped.
“Easy buddy. It doesn't bite.” The hands and voice calmed him. The colt reached down and sniffed it again, running his lip over the surface. Then Jim guided his head back up, slipping the bit into his mouth and sliding the headstall over his ears. The colt took the bit and bridle well. Jim was glad to see that anyway. He left the halter in place under the bridle, using it to lead the colt to the strongest post where he tied him. Jim patted his neck, soothing him. “Saddle next, buddy. And we are going to do this with just you and me. Got it?”
The black colt's ears rotated in an unbecoming manner. And Jim briefly thought, If looks could kill…
Jim approached with the saddle. True to his behavior the day before, the black swung his body violently around and attempted to shove the man away. But Jim already knew what was coming and he leveraged his own weight and pushed back...hard. “Rule number one,” he said in his even tone, deftly placing the saddle on his horse. “I'm the boss.”
A disapproving snort said the colt had other ideas. The saddle went flying.
Jim pushed his hat back. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, I left my whole vacation open just for you, fella. So we're gonna do this until we reach an understanding.” He smiled at the colt.
The colt stared back with ears pricked forward. Then he blinked at the man with a subtle curiosity in his eyes. He could bide his time too, it was a talent that came naturally.
<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>
Over the ensuing days, Jim didn't attempt to ride the colt. Instead they worked on a lounge line, learning simple commands, handling and of course the saddle. It went on and came off repeatedly until the colt accepted it without giving it much, if any more consideration. That first week they settled into a daily routine with Jim adding to it as they worked together.
The black colt found the man to be patient but firm in his demands and eventually he began to enjoy the attention and activity the man provided. Not to mention the treats and attentive grooming the man gave him at the end of the day's work. He quickly formed an attachment to 'his' man and even whinnied in anticipation when he came to him every day.
The telling moment finally arrived.
As Jim spoke to the black colt and ran his hand down the strong neck, he quickly placed a foot in the stirrup and was up in the saddle in an instant. The colt grunted in shocked surprise. He liked his man just fine, as long as he was on the ground. He blew a loud disparaging snort, then he lounged.
Every trick the young horse had previously employed, he tried expertly in those first few moments, but his new master stayed put. The colt finally gave in, settled down and tried a few steps, just carrying the man.
Jim reached down and patted him, praising him. This was going smoother than he thought it would. The colt was an excellent student, every bit as smart as Jim had hoped and a fast learner. He started putting his young horse through some paces. The colt danced from side to side as they circled the corral and finally settled into a smoother gate. Jim relaxed his guard only for a second...his mount sensed it instantly.
Capriciously, without the slightest warning, the colt leapt, performing a peculiar lounging twist, pitching his rider from the saddle.
Jim hit the ground once again, landing on his face and shoulder, nearly knocking the sense out of him again. He lay there a moment, blinking in surprise. He slowly propped himself up on one elbow, mouth open, starring back at the black, momentarily stunned. His horse stood looking back at him triumphantly. Then he stepped over to his man and reached down to nuzzle him.
Pete was right, the horse did have a wicked sense of humor. Jim finally laughed out loud. “OK, so you're a thinker! And you plan ahead. Qualities I like in a partner.” The black tossed his head. “And...you have some raw talents that are going to come in handy once we teach you what to do with them.” He dragged himself back up on his feet, catching his breath. “Come here.” He whistled lightly. The black perked his ears and obediently came closer to his new master. Jim stroked his contrary mount's face. “Rule number two,” he said wryly. “That is the last time you're ever going to toss ME! And you are not to tell Artie about this, ever! He finds out I let you throw me twice, I'll never live it down!”
The black nickered softly in reply and head butted his master in the chest. Jim smiled and spoke to him in a low easy voice. “It's not a dark soul in there, is it? It's a smart one that likes to challenge and be challenged. Trust me, buddy, you're going to get all the challenges you can want.” Jim patted him affectionately and jumped back up in the saddle. This time they worked out in earnest with only a few more physical disputes to test them both.
<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>~~~<>
“Morning Jim!” Pete entered the kitchen and passed Jim on his way to the morning coffee pot. He stopped dead in his tracks and backed up a few steps, stared at the bruises on his cousin's face. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, that is a beaut of a shiner you've got there! You and that horse get engaged yet or are the two of you two still courting?” He chuckled.
Jim winced. “You're a funny man Pete. The black is working out fine. We just had a little difference of opinion.”
“Uh-huh...ya don't say? Well, I do find a sense of humor helps to dull the pain.” Pete joked back. Then his voice took a more serious tone. “Jim, I don't doubt your skills as a horseman, but are you sure you want that black colt? He's gonna be handful on a good day. I'd think you'd want something a little more steady and cooperative. Why don't you just try that mare I told you about? She's smart, she can turn on a dime and give you change, fast as greased lightning and so sweet she'll tuck you into bed at night.” He grinned.
“No. I want the black, Pete. I know he's high strung and willful, but he'll be perfect once I get him trained.” Jim sipped his coffee.
Pete blew on his own coffee to cool it then shook his head. He was quite familiar with his cousin's own headstrong history. “Somehow I suspect there was a time when someone said the very same thing about you, James.” He winked.
Jim just smirked and refilled his coffee cup.
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At the end of three weeks, Bill the ranch hand was walking with Pete, when their attention was drawn to the cloud of dust out beyond the ranch complex.
Bill whistled under his breath. “Well I'll be danged. I thought sure that horse would break him in two first.”
Pete smiled widely as they watched Jim West and his horse perform a stunt Pete had never even imagined one of his horses doing. Then they watched the black horse lurch upward from a prone state of lying flat on the ground with Jim slipping back into the saddle as his mount found his stride again.
“Will you look at that?” Pete exclaimed. “I always knew that colt had something special in him.” He quickly cast a glance at Bill. “I mean besides the devil. I guess he just needed the right handler to find it.” The horse and rider continued on, racing across the open ground, then cutting sharp turns around markers Jim had laid out.
“They're a pair, that's for sure.” Bill agreed. “You know...I'm gonna miss the daily circus when they're gone.”
Pete grinned. “Me too.”
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Artemus Gordon pulled out his gold pocket watch and checked the time. Jim should be arriving soon as per the message delivered to Artie's hotel. He leaned against the porch support on the boardwalk just outside the saloon. Normally he would have waited inside, enjoying a early libation. But he had just had to see Jim ride in. He wondered if his partner had really done it. Had he really acquired a new horse while he was gone? If so, Artie was eager to see what Jim would show up on.
A flicker of bright blue caught his eye down the street and he straightened up, watching. There he was at last...James West. A smile pulled across Artie's face. He slowly shook his head in wonder. Leave it to Jim West all right...leave it to Jim to find himself a horse that would turn every head on the street. And another black one to boot.
He watched his partner ride toward him on a compact, muscular, prancing black quarter horse. The animal held himself like he was the king of all his own domain and any beyond, dancing to the left, dancing to the right and Jim sitting on him like he'd been there all his life. Artie had to admit, they were a sight to see. People all along the street paused and looked at them as they moved by. Jim tipped his hat, smiling to a pair of pretty young ladies who blushed and smiled back. Artie rolled his eyes and chuckled. They finally reached the saloon and Jim reined the black toward Artie.
“Welcome back, Jim!” He called out.
“Thanks, Artie! What do you think of him?” Jim and the black stepped up to the hitching rail in front of him.
Artie studied the gleaming black horse as he snorted and danced in place. “Well, he's certainly full of piss and vinegar!”
Jim dismounted. He stepped toward his partner and they shook hands in greeting. Jim took his hat off and proudly regarded his new mount. “I like him that way!”
Artie nodded his head appreciatively. “I just hope he likes a rider who's the same!” He elbowed his partner playfully. “Really though, he's a fine looking piece of horseflesh Jim. He might even be just a tad more handsome than you!”
Jim laughed. “Come on Artie, I'll buy you a drink and we can catch up.”
“James, I thought you'd never ask.” They headed into the saloon just as a ruckus broke out across the street inside the general store. The partners were half way to a table when they heard the shouts out on the street. The two men ran out onto the boardwalk, just in time to see a running thief jump on Jim's black horse and goad him into a gallop down the street.
“Jim...he just stole your new horse!” Artie exclaimed.
“No, he didn't.” Jim answered calmly.
“Uhhh...?!” Artemus dramatically swept his hand in the direction of the fleeing mount. “...Ahemmm?!”
Jim pushed his hat back on his head and stepped into the street. He whistled a loud sharp clear note that cut across the distance.
The black horse suddenly threw all four hooves forward and dug in, heaving dirt everywhere as he abruptly slid to a stop. Then with barely a hesitation he reared violently, twisting and unseating his unauthorized rider. The young man hit the dirt hard. Onlookers rushed out to help pick him up and bring him back.
The black horse snorted once, then swinging his head low, he galloped back to his master. Now tossing his head proudly, he stopped in front of Jim. Suddenly he calmed down and stood quietly. Jim reached out, taking hold of his bridle and patted the black's face and neck. “Good boy!” He praised him. “That was fun, wasn't it?”
Artemus hummed in awe. “Very impressive! How long did it take you to teach him that?”
“I didn't.” Jim laughed. “It's the first trick he taught me! He's a very educated horse Artie!”
“So...does this one have a name?” Artie could see Jim was immensely fond of the animal already.
“Yup.”
“Well? What is it?”
But Jim didn't answer Artemus directly. Instead he spoke to his horse addressing him by his chosen name. Artie nodded his head in approval as Jim turned back toward him to finish his sentence.
“...and we're going to be a winning combination, Artie!”
“I have no doubt of that, James.” Artie grinned as he watched the two of them. “No doubt at all!”
The end.