A Feather in the Rain by Alex Cord

least see him for the ultimate rube that he was.
    Like newly veined porcelain, a pink shine colored her cheeks and her smile broke wide and shyly. She turned away in slight embarrassment and then as she looked back at him said, “Really? That would be something.”
    â€œI can’t believe I said that. Excuse me. My mouth just ran ahead of my brain.”
    She kept smiling and clearing her throat, trying to get past the moment of knowing her face was flushed. And in it all he thought, she’s not offended and maybe, am I dreaming, is she mildly amused?
    As she stood next to him, though separated by eighteen inches of space, he felt as if something of her was rubbing against him. Her most important pursuit seemed to be making Jesse feel good without a trace of effort. So he told her he was born on a kitchen table, which was true, and that he had no brothers or sisters and grew up lonely and sensitive. Then he laughed and she wasn’t sure what to believe.
    â€œAnd so you drove twenty-two hours hauling horses all the way up from Texas to help raise money for these kids?”
    He nodded and bit his lip.

    J esse had just cut a couple of cows to tune his horse and was letting him relax before the work. A man and his wife approached with a ten-year-old boy in a wheelchair. The boy’s eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. The gentle father handling a program requested an autograph for his son. The boy began to push himself out of the chair and walk with gasping effort toward Jesse. Jesse confessed that he was nobody famous. But Danny wanted his autograph because he was a cowboy.
    Jesse looked at the boy’s father. “Would Danny like to get up onthis horse? He’s plumb gentle.”
    Before the father could respond, Danny broke into a keyboard smile and whispered hoarsely, “Yes!”
    The father lifted him up to Jesse’s outstretched arms. Jesse slipped him into the saddle in front of him. They walked off. The boy looked as if joy might cause his face to burst. Then Jesse stepped off and walked alongside as Danny rode by himself. When they got back to the parents, Jesse lifted Danny to the ground.
    He rested in his chair and held the oxygen mask to his face. Jesse signed the program and ruffled the top of Danny’s head. He felt the rush of heat in his throat and smiled. When he turned back to the horse, he saw Holly in the distance with her camera aimed at him. When she saw him look, she took her eye from the viewfinder and looked at him directly.
    The hotel was top-of-the-line Rocky Mountain Resort—redwood, vaulted ceilings, glass, and modern sculpture in a spacious lobby.
    In a room packed with hundreds of people, a bartender was pouring Jesse a straight scotch when Susan Hampton, the bad Bond girl, glided up, batting lashes like tarantula legs, and pursing lips on the verge of bursting from a collagen overload. She thanked him for his help with the cutting and gushed over what a great horse he’d let her ride.
    â€œWell, you did a fine job. You would have won, if I’d been judging. I think that country western gal paid off the judges.”
    Her attempt to engage him further was thwarted by the intrusion of one of the sponsors of the event, which gave Jesse a reason to drift away. He spotted Bear and family at a table with several others in animated conversation. The all-seeing Bear called to him as he stood up. “Jesse.” He walked over and clasped one hand on his shoulder and shook the other. “Come and meet some friends.”
    Richard Running Deer was one of four Native Americans seated with the Bassetts. A well-known artist, he had donated a painting to be auctioned for the benefit. The Bassetts were proud of his workand their friendship. Holly smiled politely and shook Jesse’s hand. An observer might have called him cool but indeed he was hoping that the conflagration within wasn’t blazing on his brow.
    The room had filled with heat.