Perfect Family by Patricia; Potter

Keep the colt going. Keep him at an easy trot around the ring . By the end of the day, if he had no interruptions, the colt would be broken to saddle. Then the tedious work began. But it was work he loved.
    How much longer would he have it?
    The youngster had slowed. Ross moved, snaking out the rope, pushing the colt to speed his pace.
    Keep your attention on the animal, dammit . His mind kept wandering, though, to the command performance he had to attend tonight. He’d tried to squirm out, but Sarah had made it quite clear he was expected to attend.
    He hated the biannual reunions. He’d always felt like an outsider, an interloper, a fraud. For various reasons, mostly Sarah, he had stayed at the Sunset long past the time he’d known it wise to go. Now he had his entire life invested in it. He’d almost come to think of it as home. The only real home he’d ever had. And yet he’d also realized he never really belonged here.
    That knowledge had been a burr under his skin. God only knew he’d fought establishing an attachment to this land. To Sarah. He’d always believed it would be jerked away, just as so many other things had been. But now the Sunset was in his blood, the land his very soul, the horses his future. And the whole damn thing was about to be pulled out from under him.
    And by an outsider just like him. Yet that outsider had the blood he could not claim .
    The colt was quickly tiring. A few more rounds and he would halter the youngster, then allow him to grow used to the saddle. No violent confrontations between man and beast, merely a subtle building of trust between them, of understanding as to which was dominant.
    Ross loved these sessions in the round pen. He enjoyed it far more than the spring and fall roundups of the cattle, and certainly more than the paperwork, especially that involved in leasing so much government land for grazing. Cattle, particularly in this country, were becoming a losing proposition. The value of a good cutting horse, though, was spiraling upward for reasons best not dwelt upon. What little profit the ranch produced now came from the horses. He wanted to enlarge the program, but he couldn’t as long as the fate of the ranch hung on such slender threads.
    Its immediate sale would bring millions to the Clementses, not just a promise of later profits.
    But how could anyone even consider selling a legend?
    He looked up at the red mountains in the distance. God, he loved them. He loved their secrets. The thought of turning this land into small lots made him physically ill.
    The colt snorted, aware again of his lack of attention. Ross spoke softly, calming him, then approached with confidence, always keeping to the side or front. He slipped the lariat around the animal’s head, waited as the youngster tested it, then stood quietly. “Good boy,” he soothed.
    The animal tossed his head but stood quietly as Ross placed a saddle pad on the horse’s back. The horse bucked slightly at the unfamiliar object, then stilled again. After several more rounds, Ross saddled him and started him around the ring again, allowing him to become accustomed to carrying the weight.
    He forced all his concentration on the animal, a buckskin with all the breeding, instincts, and natural moves of a champion cutting horse. Several such animals, and he could name his own prices for Sunset horses.
    After several hours, the horse was accustomed to the rope, and the saddle. The moment of truth was here . He slowly lifted himself into the saddle. The horse danced nervously for a moment, then quieted, and Ross felt the supreme satisfaction of accomplishment. With a touch of Ross’s heels, the horse circled the ring.
    Ross tried to concentrate, but his mind kept returning to thoughts of the god-awful party tonight.
    He heard Timber bark behind him. Even the dog was reminding him he was running late. The animal was uncanny. “Be patient, Timber,” he said, and