He was immediately impressed by the construction and organization of the tack room, as he had been by the bunkhouse. Directly in front of him as he walked in the door were two large piles of saddle pads stacked next to each other, laying on a heavy table that was six inches off the floor. Just behind the saddle pads and facing the back wall were four wooden saddle racks, each holding four pegs on which sat saddles. The saddle pads and four racks made an island of sorts in the middle of the room. Along the back wall were ten more saddle racks with pegs that held four saddles each, and along the wall to the left, on either side of a door that led to a fully equipped leather repair room, were two more similar saddle racks also holding saddles for a total of sixty-four saddles. Each individual saddle peg had a small piece of leather nailed to it on which was stamped the name of the horse the saddle belonged to. All were in alphabetical order and went from left to right, starting with the name Abby on the first peg on the left, wrapping around the back wall then finishing with the name Zephyr on the last peg of the racks in the middle by the saddle pads. Along the wall on either side of the door Henry came in were two rows of bridle hooks, one above the other, and each one holding a separate bridle. Again, each bridle was in alphabetical order from left to right.

On the wall to the right were three saddle racks, again with four pegs each. Not all of these pegs had saddles on them, but the saddles they did hold were of higher quality than the ones on the other pegs. Those pegs also had nametags on them, but instead of horse names, they held the names of the wranglers…Jim, Jake, Ted, Little Steve, Dan, Todd, Will, Big Steve, and Chad. Chad’s saddle was missing. There were three other empty pegs, all of which were the top peg of each rack and none having a name on them. Henry flung his saddle into position on one of those. He suspected the more seniority the wrangler had, the lower his saddle was on the rack. That way that wrangler wouldn’t have to heave his saddle up on the peg when putting it away, or pull it down when getting it out. The lower the saddle, the easier and quicker it would be to handle. Chad’s was on the bottom right peg, Jim’s was on the bottom of the middle rack and Josh’s was on the bottom, left. Now he understood whom he’d be answering to when it was not Jessie.

Sitting off by itself near the door to the leather repair room was a worn but clean and well-used woman’s saddle that no doubt belonged to Jessie. He was glad to see she rode. At the very least she wasn’t just a businesswoman, but apparently knew something about livestock, as well. He liked that. He also liked the smell of the room: well oiled leather, old wood and horse sweat. He tipped his head back slightly and inhaled. He could tell just by the smell of the sweat in the air that the horses in the herd at this place were fed alfalfa, like the ponies. The odor from sweat of a horse fed on alfalfa smelled different, sweeter somehow, than a horse that was fed on grass or grass hay. It was a very distinctive aroma that he had always been able to distinguish, even when others just as experienced or even more than he, couldn’t. He was so sensitive to it he could often know when someone was feeding alfalfa to their horses simply by the odor in the air as he drove past their place. He inhaled again.