STILL WATER

I started back to my trailer, not wanting to do anything but hide. The night was soft and deep, and I suddenly knew I didn’t want to go into the light where I could see myself in the mirror and the quiet would echo with Juanita’s plain speaking. I veered off toward the barn, where company waited that would be comforting without any demands or judgements.

Beau Baby was lying in his deep straw, but he had heard my step and I could see his pricked ears turned toward the door and his big eyes reflecting the dim light from the security poles at the end of each shed row. I leaned over his door and said softly, “Hey Baby. Wanta go out?”

He put one front foot out in front of him and surged to his feet, grunting a little with the effort. I lifted the halter and lead rope off their hook and opened the door, stepping into the darkness and putting a hand on Beau’s warm neck.

“Beau Baby,” I crooned while I slipped the halter over his nose and buckled it behind his ears. “Let’s go spook around, just you and me.”

I led him quietly out into the alleyway and over to the manure pit. Holding the rope and his mane, I climbed up on the concrete edge and slipped on his back. He waited just long enough for me to get settled and then stepped out, heading toward our usual path into the desert.

The desert was dark, but the gloaming light from the surrounding city was enough for us to see our way. Beau was warm between my legs, and my body rocked to the sway of his long walk. I felt alive in a whole new way, riding my big brown horse out into the stillness.

We walked steadily into the desert, winding through the high brush and around the low, treacherous cactus. Beau’s feet made a dull, rhythmic thud on the sand, and the darkness flowed away beneath us. I looked up at the high stars, so much more visible out here than back at the showgrounds but fainter by far than they were from our Texas ranch.

By the time we got to the sand flats, I was feeling less numb though not much happier. I stopped Beau on the edge of our practice ground. I leaned forward and smoothed Beau’s neck where it was warm under his heavy mane. He was looking out over the flats, but deigned to swivel an ear back my way.

“What about it, Boy?” I whispered. “Want to run a pattern?”

He made no sign that he understood me, but he knew what I wanted when I gathered the rope tighter in my left hand and dug my right hand deep in his mane. I clicked just once and he began to move.

He took a couple of trotting steps before breaking into a lope, and cocked an ear back to see how serious I was. I chirped to him again and he began to stretch out, hitting a dead run as we neared the first shadowy bush. He spun around it to the left, as we always did when we meant business. I didn’t touch the rope. I was hanging on for dear life - I hadn’t ridden bareback much since leaving Texas - and anyway Beau knew his business better than I could tell him.

We swept into the next turn, the desert whipping past inches under my right foot as Beau leaned and dug into the sand. Then we were at the last bush, bending tight around to the left and flattening out for the run back to the start. My eyes were watering and I was breathless as I eased Beau back to a lope. He came back easily, as well mannered as ever, but his head was high and I felt like I was riding a wild horse. By common consent, we turned onto the old mining road that led up to the top of the mesa and loped on into the night.

We went all the way to the top, Beau alternating between a lope and a jog depending on the steepness of the grade. Once there, we sat on the rim and looked out over the valley, watching a few scattered car lights move steadily along the roads and listening for small sounds that betrayed the wildlife that moved about in the sheltering darkness. When Beau’s breathing was quiet, I turned him toward home and we began the long walk back.

By the time we got to the showgrounds, we were both tired and full of peace, lulled by the wide open spaces that dwarfed us. The sound of Beau’s iron shoes across the asphalt seemed jarringly loud but nothing stirred under the shed rows. I slipped off Beau’s back and led him into the stall, took off the halter, and threw in a big armful of hay. I heard Beau’s steady chomping as I headed back to my trailer. I let myself in and was sound asleep within minutes.