
excerpt
It should be noted that Joel was
pleasantly surprised to discover that his orange mount that
morning was as solid as a rock. If he was honest with himself,
Joel would admit that there was more than a little fear in him as
he rose into the saddle, not knowing what to expect.
It was a strange morning for Joel. He had risen early, just after
five. His body was still trying to adjust to the time zone change.
Wandering through the old house, his childhood home, he had a
sense of knowing both everything about it and nothing at all. In
the long years since he had left home, escaped really, there had
been many changes, but the basic structure, the placing of the
rooms and their uses, remained the same.
After a slice of toast with some store-bought strawberry jam
and a cup of strong coffee, Joel prepared to make his way out to
the ranch yard. At the back door he realized that none of his attire
was appropriate for the country. It was not rough enough for the
country. Not warm enough for the coolness of the summer
morning in the hills. From the varied collection of clothing hanging
many layers deep on a wooden clothing tree at the back door,
Joel selected a weathered blue jean jacket to match his brand new
Wrangler blue jeans and popped a well-used straw cowboy hat on
his head. The jean jacket just made sense to him to wear. But the
cowboy hat was a bit of a struggle. He knew that he would have
felt more natural, more comfortable grabbing any of the half
dozen ball caps that decorated the top of the clothing tree. Something
resonating deep within him made him choose the cowboy
hat, and it fit, to his own amazement. Fit perfectly. Grabbing a
rugged looking pair of leather gloves and sliding his feet into an
ancient pair of sloppy fitting, tan-colored cowboy boots, Joel
walked out into the ranch yard and instinctively followed the
worn path that headed to the barn.
Joel completed the ritual of saddling, bridling, and mounting
the horse and then turned the horse toward the hills and headed
out. Riding the orange gelding, he crossed over the small narrow
wooden bridge that spanned the fast flowing Paradise Creek.