Chase prepared himself for the ride of his life.With a warhoop from one of the cowboys, Target came to life. He left the ground as if a keg of dynamite had exploded under him, carrying Chase in one powerful lunge skyward. Before Chase had a chance to guess Target's next move, he was taken on a fast-paced trip filled with jaw-breaking, personal seat-to-the-saddle bounces as the horse bucked, circling the perimeter of the lot, kicking his back feet high in the air and nearly dumping Chase over his head.The horse came to a sudden halt, heaving for breath. Just as everyone watching thought he'd worn himself out, Target went into a gyration of whirling and bucking, squealing with blood-curdling volume, flopping Chase about in the saddle like a rubber ball. Again he stopped, then reared high, paving at the heavens. Chase felt himself slipping. He had just enough sense left to lean forward and pound a balled fist on the horse's head. The force drove Target back on all fours. His body was wrapped in a blanket of frothy sweat and his head hung low, nose nearly touching the ground, He had given his all and was now spent of any energy, trembling with weakness.Chase sat frozen in the saddle, feeling loopy in the head from the torture the horse had put him through. He, like Target, had nothing left to give.About the AuthorDeloris and her husband Jess lived all their married lives in Tarkio, a small town in the northwest corner of Missouri, until Jess's death in 2005. They were blessed with three children, four grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. Deloris is an avid Western fan, and has loved Western movies and books with a hero like Gene Autry since childhood, very likely stemming from her early association with her mom's old 78 records and Saturday Westerns at the Tarkio theater. She enjoys writing and putting her own take on Westerns from her imagination on paper. Deloris would enjoy hearing from any readers at
[email protected].
