Page 32 of His Eighth Ride

He toyed with the idea of looking for his own piece of Colorado land in the heart of the Rocky Mountains as he helped Gerty and Bryce put the halters on the four horses they’d be loading and transporting that day.

Bryce handed him a thick lead rope and said, “Let’s walk ‘em around the trailer for a minute. Yours is Cinnamon, and he should go in first.”

“Why are you selling these?” Tag asked as Cinnamon stood right next to Bryce, his nose down. “They sure seem to like you.”

Bryce grinned at his red-coated horse. “They do. I’ve had them all for years now. I can’t sell them to farms or ranches or into service. They were too malnourished when they came to me, or didn’t rehabilitate fast enough. So we’ve kept ‘em.”

He sighed as he moved to hand a lead rope to Gerty. “This is Ontario Lake.” The gray sure had a beautiful coat, and Tag noted how he moved right into Gerty’s shoulder and no further. She didn’t give the horse his way, and he shuffled back to give her the proper distance. These animals were well-trained already. Tag wouldn’t be breaking them and rehabilitating them the way he had Gerty’s other rescues.

They’d just have more horses on their farm.

“But Codi says we can’t keep all of them. We need more stable and stall space for horses we can rehab and get back out there, living their best equine life. So I’m ripping my heart out—” He looked up. “You hear that, Lord? My heart is getting ripped right out of my chest down here. It’s flopping and bleeding and this is awful for me.”

Tag blinked at him in surprise. He’d never considered just yelling out to the Lord every thought that came into his head. He glanced over to Gerty, who didn’t seem to think anything odd had happened at all.

Bryce took the remaining two lead ropes and started walking. “I know you guys will take good care of them. And it’s time. So they—it’s nice for them to have different pastures to roam, I think.”

Tag followed Bryce, and they walked around the trailer a couple of times while he murmured secrets to the two equines plodding along with him. Then he said, “All right. Let’s load ‘em in. Tag, you’re up first.”

Tag had loaded plenty of horses in his life, and he got Cinnamon in the trailer without an issue. He looped the rope through the slats, as they’d secure him for the drive once they had all four horses on.

Gerty loaded Ontario Lake while Tag fell to Bryce’s side. He took the lead rope for Ellie, a pretty bay with black markings. She went on next, and finally only Rooster and Bryce remained.

“All right, bud,” he said. “They’re all on, and you don’t want to be left behind, do you?” He led him to the edge of the trailer, and Rooster even took the first step on. Then he balked and tried to go backward.

“Come on,” Bryce said, pulling forward on the rope. “You can’t stay here forever.” Several tries later, all four hooves had made it up and into the trailer. Gerty set about securing the horses for the drive, while Tag helped get the lead ropes off and back to Bryce.

The back door finally got closed, and Gerty clapped her gloved hands together. She looked at Bryce, who wore a stone mask of determination. “I’ll send you a bunch of pictures,” she said.

“One hundred percent.” He cleared his throat.

“You got the money from Mikey?”

“Yep.”

Gerty grinned at him and stepped into his arms. “Cheer up, Bryce. You’ve been hoarding these horses to yourself for long enough. Now, you just get to make more friends.”

He did relax into her embrace, and then quickly pulled out. “Thanks, Gerty. Drive safe.” He shook hands with Tag, and he only had to look at Gerty to know she wanted him to drive. So he got behind the wheel, the pressure suddenly so much higher.

“Lord,” he said once they’d all buckled and made it off Bryce’s beautiful ranch. “We’ve got these amazing horses with us now, so please help us to get home safely.”

“Amen,” Gerty murmured. A few moments later, she started laughing quietly.

“What?” he asked.

“Bryce got to you with his praying-out-loud thing, didn’t he?”

Tag grinned and shrugged slightly. “I mean, it’s not a bad way to live, right?”

Gerty shook her head. “I suppose.” Then she sighed and leaned her head back. “Ah, I can’t wait to get home.”

Tag thought of the farm, his cabin, Boots, and Opal—all waiting for him back in Ivory Peaks. “Me either,” he said, deciding that home was not a place. It was a feeling where loved and cherished people and things existed.

And for now, that was his cabin, Gerty’s farm, his work there, Boots…and Opal.

Tag walked slowly from his cabin to the barn, though the gray morning light did everything in its power to urge him to go faster. Boots couldn’t exactly go faster yet, and Tag wasn’t even sure he should have the little dog out with him yet.

But it had been almost two weeks since the injury, and the poor corgi was going stir-crazy in his crate. So Tag had been bringing him to the morning feeding rounds and then taking him home no matter how forlorn he looked.

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