Darkness was inking its way across the horizon
Darkness was inking its way across the horizon, and Jim pulled the remaining herd into the Circle J. These were the strays that drifted their way up the side of the mountain looking for greener patches of grass. Jim understood the desire to break away from the herd and manage on his own. He could empathize with the fight most of these animals displayed when he rounded them up. And he almost mourned their loss of freedom as he returned them to the main herd.
Jim spent most of his life alone. Even as a youngster, he knew little of his father who had joined the confederate army, shortly afterward his mother had come down with an unknown illness that kept her in bed, Jim didn’t like the little bottle of opium she kept on her bed table. He always blamed that bottle for his mother’s illness.
Jim had to work wherever he could to keep up the house and take care of his mother.
In about a two week span it all changed as his mother received world that his father had fallen in battle and she took a gun to her head. Jim was even more alone now than he had ever been. It was little surprise that his life turned to punching cows.
Jim had roamed from ranch to ranch and cattle drive to cattle drive throughout most of his twenties. He had never had any desire for anything more. Little did he know that would change before the week was out.
The glassy surface of the water trough would be beautiful if he thought it was clean. After watering the black and white paint, who had been his companion for the last three years, he brushed and fed the horse and made his way into the bunk house to clean him up. Then he needed some chow.
The food at the Circle J was typical ranch food if not a little better than most ranches he had been with. But it was Sarah that Jim liked more than the food she prepared.
Sarah was the daughter of the owner of the Bar S cattle man Jethro Carrigan. Carrigan was a gamble and ranch owner, he was a big deal in the nearby town of Milton Creek. Sarah was tall and lanky but not in a week way. Jim had watched her handle herself with a horse he reckoned she could hold her own against most of the cowboys the drifted in and out like Jim. She was pretty with dark brown hair that sat at her shoulders when she let it down, which she didn’t do very often she liked to be more active than many of the females Jim had come across in his travels.
With a plate full of beans and a large slice of bread with butter and Jam Jim positioned himself so that he could just see Sarah serving and cleaning up from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to be thought of as the one of those creepy cowboys who stared to long at a girl after being away from civilization, but Jim couldn’t help but keep her in his peripheral view as long as he could.
Just then a scuffle could be heard from outside.
“They are here to arrest the Boss.” One of the other ranch hands yelled from outside.
Jim spent most of his life alone. Even as a youngster, he knew little of his father who had joined the confederate army, shortly afterward his mother had come down with an unknown illness that kept her in bed, Jim didn’t like the little bottle of opium she kept on her bed table. He always blamed that bottle for his mother’s illness.
Jim had to work wherever he could to keep up the house and take care of his mother.
In about a two week span it all changed as his mother received world that his father had fallen in battle and she took a gun to her head. Jim was even more alone now than he had ever been. It was little surprise that his life turned to punching cows.
Jim had roamed from ranch to ranch and cattle drive to cattle drive throughout most of his twenties. He had never had any desire for anything more. Little did he know that would change before the week was out.
The glassy surface of the water trough would be beautiful if he thought it was clean. After watering the black and white paint, who had been his companion for the last three years, he brushed and fed the horse and made his way into the bunk house to clean him up. Then he needed some chow.
The food at the Circle J was typical ranch food if not a little better than most ranches he had been with. But it was Sarah that Jim liked more than the food she prepared.
Sarah was the daughter of the owner of the Bar S cattle man Jethro Carrigan. Carrigan was a gamble and ranch owner, he was a big deal in the nearby town of Milton Creek. Sarah was tall and lanky but not in a week way. Jim had watched her handle herself with a horse he reckoned she could hold her own against most of the cowboys the drifted in and out like Jim. She was pretty with dark brown hair that sat at her shoulders when she let it down, which she didn’t do very often she liked to be more active than many of the females Jim had come across in his travels.
With a plate full of beans and a large slice of bread with butter and Jam Jim positioned himself so that he could just see Sarah serving and cleaning up from the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to be thought of as the one of those creepy cowboys who stared to long at a girl after being away from civilization, but Jim couldn’t help but keep her in his peripheral view as long as he could.
Just then a scuffle could be heard from outside.
“They are here to arrest the Boss.” One of the other ranch hands yelled from outside.
Comments
Post a Comment