Chapter one
Morning day one

Grey clouds crushed low to the ground painting the early morning landscape in hues of purple and green pastels, squeezing out their last drips before scurrying eastward. What little moisture hit the soil did little to even out the hard crusted dirt and barely dampened the dust from the air. Late spring in the high desert where the last of the spring rains would bring a profusion of faerie sized blooms, tiny purple, blue and red posies scattered between rocks and soon to be leached dry clods of dirt. The sage was in bloom competing with the acrid odor of light rain over asphalt. It was not an unpleasant smell but it did remind the young man sitting aboard a small short coupled mustang that he was too close to civilization still and there was quite a distance to roam before getting free from fences and other man made devices meant to stake claim or change the nature of the land and close traffic onto narrowed roadways. Fences were a necessary evil down here in the lower country where large lots are divided for pasture or plow. As rural as it may be it was still too tamed for the desires of wild hearted young man with his secret conviction he had been born nearly a century to late. The fences also reminded him that he needed to get up into the hills before any neighbors saw him and said something to his mother.

Earlier that morning he had let himself out of the house before the sun was up, careful not to wake anyone. The stars had begun to fade as the eastern skyline bled to lighter shades of blue hinting of the coming sun. Ever present winds of spring forced him to jam his hat down tighter and button the fleece lined denim jacket when he made his way to the sagging barn, navigating the distance from memory and lesser patches of darkness. An old dilapidated corral with disused cattle chutes stood affixed to the tired and failing structure. In its day the corral had seen large numbers of cattle moved through for branding, tagging, cutting, dehorning and doctoring but all that was years ago. For the last few years the corrals only use was as an occasional dry pen and closed area to work with green broke or soured ponies.

As light dawned soft he was able to see the two horses he had run in the night before. It helped that one of them was white, although he remembered somewhere learning that are no white horses unless they are albino, all others are merely light shades of gray, although he still called them white anyway. The horses nickered at him and the can of grain he shook to get their attention and slowly walked to the feed trough where they daintily nibbled at the rolled oats he tossed in atop of the timothy. While they ate he talked low and quiet to them telling them the plans he had for the day and the places they would go. He did not believe they understood what he was saying but knew the talk was soothing to them. He knew the passion he had for horses was not cool, it was considered a chick thing, but a world without them would not be a world in which he could live. He did not attribute human emotion or qualities to horses but he did know that they trusted and could sometimes be brave, and that they were lovely and graceful; for those things alone he loved them.

In the dark of the barn lit by a single forty-watt bulb he collected rigging off the tack mounts he and his father had built years before then set it next to the supplies he laid out the day before. He took two soft ropes from the rigging pile and walked back to the horses, talking to them when he got to the gate so they would not spook. Letting himself in he moved in slow and easy movements staying well to the side where they could see his approach. He patted the white on the neck and rubbed its shoulder as he deftly clipped the lead rope to its halter and half hitched it to the rail above the feed trough, repeating the same maneuver on the line back dun on the other side. It took nearly thirty minutes to set up the packhorse and saddle the other and by then the day had dawned and it was apparent the day was going to be a cloudy one with some rain. He debated getting a slicker from the house for a minute then decided it was worth the risk, mentally kicking himself for not thinking about it earlier. Fortunately the slickers hung in the mudroom and could be reached without actually entering the house.

If anyone was up and saw him leave it would upset his plans. The night before he had told his mother that his dad was going to pick him up to go fishing and he planned to stay with him for a couple of weeks working construction. His mother, who had just recently found a new man, did not seem to mind over much. The week before he had told his dad that he was planning on working cattle with a local rancher and then move them up into the high country. He did not like making a habit of lying to his parents but since their divorce they were not easy to be around and while they did not ask him to take sides he always felt awkward and torn when around either one of them. It was far simpler being with the horses they were uncomplicated and he needed that.

There was a nagging voice inside that said soon he would not be able to take off and ride or spend his days with horses. Soon horses would be a luxury, especially after the farm sold, and his horses would most likely would be sold or if he could get some pasture to rent he would have to spend a good deal of time working to support them. Maybe horses were not so uncomplicated after all but for right here and right now things were as he once thought they always would be and it would be almost sinful to not take advantage of it.

Stepping into the saddle of the white and then throwing a quick dally with the lead rope around the saddle horn he rode toward the gate and opened it from the saddle. It was something he and the white had practiced and managed to accomplish even with the dun in tow. At the house he dismounted and quietly walked to the mudroom door, after making sure there was not anyone there he opened the door and grabbed his slicker from wall without stepping inside. Remounting the white he moved out across the fields and towards the hills several miles away.

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