A Pair of Second Chances (Ben Jensen Series Book 1) by Brian Gore Read Free Book Online Page B

difficulty catching them, all he had to do was find 'em first, in that rough country.
    He liked putting the mares up high in that rocky country early. Get 'em up high while the colts were still young. It was his belief that those babies, growing up climbing around those high peaks, produced sounder, thinking, more capable working horses. It had its' risks, what with bears, and cats, and now wolves, but he was willing to accept those as a part of producing the best horse. His philosophy seemed to agree with a lot of people; he never seemed to have any real difficulty selling his horses.
    Ben rode out some ten miles, crossing a section of National Forest land that lay between his pasture ground and the home ranch. This particular pasture was two sections that ran across the base of the Absaroka mountains and covered the mouths of two narrow valleys that ran back up into the hills.
    If he got lucky, he'd pick the right valley first and find those horses quick. He'd left a few cows in this lower pasture back in the spring. They were mostly the hideout, bunch quitters he'd been too drunk to catch when he pushed the main herd, along with the mare band, up to summer graze.
    For once, luck was on his side. He'd just started into the first valley when he found his pack horses, standing in the shade of some pines. Stepping down, he ground tied Toby and took the nosebags with their baits of grain off his saddle horn.
    Those pack horses knew what a nose bag was and came at a trot to get their reward. In a few minutes they were haltered and tied into a string, with Ben back in the saddle and riding for home.
    By three that afternoon he'd returned to the ranch with his string. He loosed the horses in the home corral and set about sorting out a light, spike camp, to go horse hunting. His plan was to be horseback and riding, headed for the high country and his horse herd, when the sun broke over the eastern horizon the next morning.
    The rising sun found just that. Ben, Toby, the three, now loaded, pack horses, and a second saddle horse, were five miles up the trail when the first bright streaks of sunlight broke over the horizon.
    A.H. was too old to run along any more. He was left with a three day supply of dry food in a bucket, and no shortage of water in the trough. Ben didn't like leaving him, and A.H. didn't like being left behind, but really, he no longer had much urge to go along; and he knew Ben would return.
    For the first time, in a long time, daybreak found Ben Jensen sober. There was a down side though. He suffered through the affects of his recent sobriety with a subdued case of the shakes. He fought those with frequent stops and cups of hot coffee from the steel thermos bottle stuffed into a saddle bag. By noon, he and his small string were well up into the hills.
    It was in this country he felt as close to whole as he could feel these days. As close to anything that seemed like a church that he could abide. He sat in the sun on a rock outcrop of the mountain, eating the sandwich he'd packed for lunch, as he looked out over the prairie far below. Stretching eastward it faded into the hazy distance, rolling away from the mountains.
    His horses grazed the slope behind him. Cinches loosened, pack ropes tied up, his bridle hanging on his saddle horn.
    He sat on the rock, on that sunny slope, and smiled. Life might be a misery, but today... he was home... and today... he was a Cowboy! There was nothing else he'd ask for, on this day.
    By mid afternoon they had climbed to the set of working corrals where he planned to set his camp. The remainder of the day was spent pitching his tipi, hanging his panniers where the bears couldn't reach, and cutting and splitting enough firewood to carry him through what he hoped would be a very few days, gathering his horses.
    He was weary not only from the ride up and the work setting up camp, but from the nagging affects of, not, drinking. Ben turned in early, climbing into his bedroll, soon after