There were even a few times during the ride when she thought he might do that very thing, like the time she asked if he grew up on a ranch. He began talking about how he’d learned to rope when he was four or five, and was riding before he could walk. But then, before she knew it, he had somehow turned the conversation back to talking about her and her past. Another time she asked him about his family—did he have any brothers and sisters? He answered no, but that sometimes he wished he did. Then, again he turned the conversation back to her by asking her about her relationship with Mrs. Rodriguez, and how long they’d known each other.

After a couple hours, Jessie realized he probably wasn’t interested in talking about himself, which was not an uncommon trait in some cowboys. She had once read an interview years ago with an old cowboy about the disappearance of the west and the cowboy way of life. The interviewer, having had a hard time getting the old man to open up about his past experience, said something to him about it. The old cowboy replied: “It was hard enough going through my life the first time. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not have to do it again.”

Perhaps, Jessie thought, that’s how Henry feels about his life. If so, who am I to try and bring it back out of him?

By the time they had gotten back to the ranch, their conversations had turned back to the mustangs and how when Jessie was younger, she had loved to go out to the hidden valley her father had once showed her and watch them for hours on end. She told Henry that, with the exception of her father, she had learned more about training horses from watching that herd than from any person. Henry nodded and said he could see how that would be the case.

The sun was an hour away from setting by the time they had unsaddled, fed their horses, and started giving them a good rubdown before getting ready to turn them out for the night. The horses were still tied to the hitch rail with Jessie going over Bree with a soft brush, and Henry doing the same with Mic, when Jessie stopped.

“I want to thank you for riding along with me today, Henry,” she said quietly.

“No, ma’am. The pleasure was mine.” He stopped brushing and leaned on Mic’s back with his forearms, looking across at her. “In fact, I don’t believe I can remember ever havin’ such a pleasant day.”

“It’s been a while for me, too.”

Henry went back to brushing, then stopped again. “I just gotta ask. Was there some other reason why you took me out and showed me them wild horses today?”

Jessie, having finished, untied the mare and looked back at Henry. “As a matter of fact,” she smiled, “yes, there was.” She reached over and gently touched Henry on the arm before turning and leading the mare away. “Goodnight, Henry.”