As had become his custom in the short four-day period since Henry had been at the ranch, he would sneak in the back door of the kitchen at dinner time, grab a quick plate and cup of coffee and eat sitting on the garbage cans just outside the door. When he was finished, he’d return the plate to the kitchen and go straight to the bunkhouse where he’d mix his whiskey (which was running dangerously low) with coffee. He’d usually sit on his bunk and look out the windows for anybody that might be approaching so he could hide what he was doing. The last couple nights, however, he decided drinking from a coffee cup was much less conspicuous than the bottle, and besides nobody ever stopped to chat with him anyway. For that reason, he’d started going outside to sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch.

On this evening, oddly enough, it wasn’t getting a drink that was foremost on his mind. The reason he wanted to finish dinner so quickly was the fact he felt he needed to get back to his saddle. Ever since he’d pulled the saddle from the horse’s back he’d had an overwhelming urge to clean and oil it, something he hadn’t done in too long of a time, and the saddle showed it. It seemed dirtier somehow, than it had the last time he’d seen it. Maybe it actually was dirtier, and maybe it was simply because people had handled it who shouldn’t have. Either way, it needed to be cleaned and he didn’t want to waste any time getting to it.

About the time Henry flung the saddle over the railing of the bunkhouse and started washing the dust from the leather fenders with a damp cloth, Jessie found Jim in the dining room finishing his dinner.

“What happened today with the horse George Springs was going to ride?” she asked as Jim stood up from the table.

“Yeah, about that,” Jim nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin, and then placing it on the table. “Mr. Springs. Well, what happened was we had his horse all saddled and ready to go, but then Henry came and took it.”

“Took what?”

“The saddle. He just came right up and took it off the horse.” Jim shrugged. “I never even saw him coming. He was just there all of a sudden and pulled it right off and walked away.”

“Whose saddle was it?”

“Well, it was Henry’s saddle.”

Jessie smiled slightly, and then raised one eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you were going to use his saddle for one of our guests.”

“Sure,” Jim shrugged again. “We do that kind of thing all the time. Chad says…”

Jessie put her hand over her mouth and slowly shook her head side to side as if in disbelief. She knew how working cowboys felt about their gear and how big a breach of etiquette had transpired. “What did he say…I mean Henry? What did he say?”