Horse Talk
&
The Woman Who Loved Them
Copyright Ó 1999
Barbie Lee

"Jake, you know I would use someone else if I could. I hate this more than you do."

I gripped the steering wheel harder as I pushed the little Spyder to its' limits. "No you don't hate it nearly as much as I do. Am I supposed to sleep with him too?"

"How you get it back is beside the point." He put both hands on the dash as the Spyder slid dangerously close to the edge of the pavement.

"For God's sake, Jake, slow the fuck down." He was beginning to perspire as I turned the steering wheel back in the other direction for the next curve.

"Jeeze, David, I thought you liked living on the edge? You sure don't mind asking me to put my neck on the chopping block." I was feeling vengeful as I pushed the Spyder for a few more miles an hour. I really didn't care if we went over one of those cliffs as we raced down the mountain.

"Katrina, I'm sorry for getting you into this! Please slow down. Please? David closed his eyes. He knew we weren't going to make that next curve.

There was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I realized I had pushed the little Spyder too hard. I felt the pavement slip under the tires. Some car or truck had thrown oil out of the engine or transmission as it pushed up the grade and the little Spyder lost most of its traction on the pavement. The edge of the pavement and a three hundred foot drop was rushing at us. I no longer cared about dying.

Born and raised on a farm, I was the closest thing to a son my dad was ever going to get. Mom almost died bringing me into this world. The doc had to remove from my mother a large part of what made babies after I was out of the way. Mom named me Katrina. Dad wanted that son he was never going to receive. He called me Jake. My mother didn't have much choice as the farm demanded everyone had to work. Dolls and soft pink things became a thing of the past by the time I reached six. I was cutting calves by the time I was six. For you city born people that means I was making steers out of baby bulls. I was right beside dad when fence needed mending, driving posts in the ground, or stretching barbwire. When it was time to feed the livestock, he would call for 'Jake' and I'd be there. I wore jeans, denim shirts, and cowboy boots on the farm, to school, and to church. Everyone besides momma called me Jake. She never shortened my name to Cat but always called me Katrina. I guess it was her way of holding onto the little girl she brought into this world.

I was twelve when dad brought him home. Dad said the auctioneers tricked him into buying him. They had the horse in the auction arena, someone in the crowd popped a sack. The horse climbed up on the rail to escape. Dad raised his arm to get the attention of one of the handlers and the auctioneer yelled, "sold". So whether he had bid on him or not, dad had to bring him home. He was a mottled gray stallion with a white blaze off center on his forehead. Everyone called him god awful ugly. I thought he was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. Dad said he was going back to the sale next month. They nicknamed him Gunshy because of the incident in the sale barn.

Dad and a couple of his friends unloaded him from the stock trailer and put him in one of the stalls in the barn. They warned me to stay away from the stallion They said he was a man killer. He wanted to stomp on anyone who got close to him.

Later on that night after the chores were done I sneaked a couple apples out of momma's refrigerator. I managed to walk outside without anyone asking me where I was going.

As the screen door slammed shut behind me dad yelled. "Stay away from that wild stallion Jake."

Of course that was the first place I headed. A new face on the farm needed a looking over. I opened up the barn and walked up to his stall. He was eyeing me suspiciously. I held out an apple. "Hi, big fellow. How you doing?"

Nervously he inched up to sniff the apple and then snatched it out of my hand. He backed up across the stall as he proceeded to eat it. I opened the door to his stall and stepped inside. I held up the other apple. "I have another. You want it too?"

I could tell he was thinking that one over. Finally he inched back up to where I was and took the apple. This time he didn't back away from me. He must have thought there were more to follow. I reached up and petted him. Slowly I scratched around behind his ears.

"They say you like to jump on people. Why would someone as pretty as you want to do that? I scratched under his neck as he sniffed around for another apple.

I held up my open hands. "Nope, all gone. But I bet I can find you some dairy feed. You'll like that. It has molasses, oats, crushed corn, and flaked wheat. The cows love it. Stay there and I'll be right back."

It didn't take me long to gather up a bucket and drop a couple scoops of dairy feed into it. I walked back into Gunshy's stall holding the bucket out in front of me. He backed up as far as he could go. I reached my hand inside and pulled out a handful of feed. I held it out for him to inspect. Again he inched forward until he could smell what I had in my hand. He wrapped his lips around the feed in my hand and started munching it down. I reached into the bucket and pulled out another handful. As he reached for it I let the feed drop back into the bucket.

"Nope, you have to come and get it. I'm not going to hand feed you all of it." I held the bucket up.

He stuck his nose in and tried to drag the bucket back in his direction. I held firm and didn't let him have it. Finally he gave up and stepped forward where he could get his head into the bucket. The sweet dairy feed was pulling him in.

I set the bucket down on the floor and started scratching him all around the ears and neck. "I'll bet no one took the time to get to know you. What did they do? Throw a lariat in your direction and drag you into the trailer? When you protested they called you a man killer didn't they. I'd protest too if someone threw a rope on me."

I checked my watch. It was past bedtime. "I better get back or dad will be out here looking for me. I'll be back in the morning. You be good now and I'll find the best hay in the barn for you come morning."

I made it back into the house without my parents asking me where I had been. I'm sure they knew but they didn't ask. The next morning I was up at four thirty and headed for the barn with dad. A dairy farm doesn't wait for sunup to start. I was feeding and running the milking cows in and out of the barn as dad slipped the milker on them. I managed enough time to find the perfect alfalfa hay bale for Gunshy. I split the twine holding it together and gathered up a couple blocks for him. I walked into his stall and dropped it into the feed bin on the wall. He nudged me out of the way as he stuck his nose in and started eating.

"Hey! Wait your turn you greedy pig. I didn't say it was time to eat." I laughed as I scratched behind his ears again. He was loving it.

I didn't have much time so I stepped out of the stall and was locking the door when I heard something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and the door to the milk room was closing. Dad must have caught me. I was wondering how I was going to explain being in Gunshy's stall when they had told me to stay away from him.

I finished up my chores expecting dad to say something every time I passed him but he didn't. Finally it was time for school and dad had finished milking. I dropped the milker in the wash vat and headed for the house. I managed to get ready quickly and scarfed down some breakfast as I headed out the door with my school books.

Momma was shouting at me as the screen door slammed shut behind me. "Katrina, you get back in here and finish breakfast. I know you didn't have time to swallow anything."

Running out to the barn, I slipped in and scooped up several scoops of dairy feed. I took it into Gunshy's stall and put it in his feeder. I heard the bus horn as Mr. Grinby, our bus driver, pulled into the yard. I made it out of the barn and onto the bus in less than thirty seconds flat. Mr. Grinby was pulling out of the yard when I found a seat and looked out the window toward the barn. Dad was standing there watching. He usually didn't do that.

The livestock auction was held on the third Thursday of every month. I could feel the end of the month crowding Gunshy and me as it came rushing toward us. I was trying to figure out how I could talk dad into keeping Gunshy rather than running him back through the auction?

It was Wednesday night, the day before the sale when dad brought the subject up at the supper table. He looked across the table at mom. "Katherine, I was thinking bout that horse I came home with last month?"

Momma looked up waiting for dad to finish his question. I was holding my breath as my mind was running a hundred miles an hour working on excuses why we couldn't take Gunshy back to the auction.

"I have too many things to do tomorrow so I won't be able to take him back. He will have to keep for nother month until I get a little time." Dad never looked in my direction so he couldn't possibly have seen the shock and then the relief on my face.

Momma, sighed. "John," Momma only called him John when she was serious, otherwise she called him dad. "John, that horse needs to go back tomorrow. He has to be eating a ton of feed the dairy herd could use instead. I think you should find the time to get him loaded up."

Dad shook his head. "I just can't do it, honey. I really have other things more important. I need to replace a tire on the stock trailer before I go anywhere with it. One of those tires is getting a little threadbare."

Momma looked over at me and then took a second look. She must have noticed that odd look I had on my face. "You have a spare for the trailer. Put it on and then you can fix the other tire later after you've taken the horse in."

Dad looked like he was about to give in for a second. "Nope, can't do that. I need to repack the wheel bearings. I thought I heard one dragging the last time I used the trailer. Nope, just take too long. Can't get it all done tomorrow and get that horse there too. Got too much to do."

I was sure momma had figured out by now that she wasn't being told the whole truth. She was staring at me. Why is it God made parents so they could read their kid's minds? Momma nodded. "No, I wouldn't want you to lose a wheel bearing down the road some place while your were loaded with that wild horse. I guess another month won't really make much difference. You'll get him back over to the auction next month then?"

Dad curled up the corner of his mouth as if he was thinking seriously about it. "Of course. That'll give me plenty of time to get the trailer fixed."

Quietly I let out my breath. Gunshy was mine for another month.

A week before the breakfast discussion, I had been letting Gunshy out his stall and into the corral for a little while. I'd entice him back by whistling and then giving him an apple as a reward for walking back into the barn. It was a week after mom and dad had their talk about taking him back to the auction when I let him out into the yard to graze on the grass. He went crazy trying to gather up as big of mouth fulls of grass as he could manage. We had been there for about thirty minutes when dad walked out of the machine shed. Gunshy looked up and bolted down the road.

"KATHERINE, GET THE TRUCK!" Dad was running for the barn and the lariat.

I waved him off as momma came flying out of the house. "Dad, wait, give me a chance."

As I pulled an apple from my pocket I whistled and held it up. Gunshy's head went up as he dropped out of a dead run into a trot, down to a walk, and then he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

I whistled again as I waved the apple in the air. I'd swear he was trying to decide if that apple was worth coming back for as he looked around. Finally he turned around and trotted back to where I was standing. He gave up his freedom for an apple and a scratch behind the ears.

I motioned for dad and mom to stay put as I put my hand under Gunshy's jaw. "Let's go get some of that special hay."

I led him back to the corral and into his stall by touching him under his jaw.

Dad walked into the barn with some feed in a bucket. "I don't believe it. They said he was a man killer down at that auction."

He opened the door to the stall and Gunshy reared up and pawed the air while he snorted. Dad fell backwards out of the door. He was lying on the floor looking up as Gunshy pawed the air. "JAKE, GET OUT OF THERE!"

I raised my hand and dropped it. "NO! Gunshy, no! Down."

Gunshy dropped back down to all four hooves as he snorted. I shook my finger at him. "Bad boy. He was only bringing you feed. He wasn't going to hurt you. You owe him an apology."

Gunshy shook his head up and down a couple times. Dad finally managed to find his feet. I looked over and there was momma standing in the doorway leading back into the dairy barn.

Dad turned around when he saw me staring behind him. "Katherine, did you see that? That horse would have killed me if he could have."

Momma finally found her voice. "I think he said he was sorry. Katrina, did he say he was sorry or was I imagining things?"

I looked back over at Gunshy. "Gun, say you're sorry."

Gunshy shook his head up and down a couple more times.

"He's sorry, daddy. You startled him. He doesn't like men. You came at him too quickly." I gathered up what feed I could where dad had spilled it and was pushing it back into the bucket.

I offered it to Gunshy. "Here, you big galoot. You would have got more if you hadn't made dad spill most of it."

I don't think dad and Gunshy ever became friends, they only tolerated each other. Dad made sure from then on that he never made any sudden moves around Gunshy. I think Gunshy was the smartest animal I had ever been around. I could teach him something and he seemed to know it before I was finished. That summer we spent a lot of time together. I herded cows with him and he got really good at separating the ones that needed to be vaccinated, branded, or cut. I wasn't very good with the lariat but I was trying really hard. Sometimes I could catch a calf or cow. Most of the time it was left up to Gunshy to give me nine or ten tries before I got the loop over the head of the one I was trying to rope. Sometimes I swear Gunshy would let out his breath in disgust when I missed a throw.

The summers and winters came and went, Gunshy and I were almost inseparable. He followed me around like a puppy dog as I did my chores. I no longer locked the doors behind him and he had free run of the place. He seemed to know exactly where our property ended and he never wondered past the edge of our land.

I was fifteen going on sixteen that summer and getting pretty good with a lariat. Even if I do say so myself. I never missed the ones in the open and I could pretty well get the ones packed into the herd. I could open up a loop and lay it down across the back of several cows that were between me and the one I had picked out, catching the cow I wanted.

Dad and I were working calves one day. Gunshy and I had dragged one up for inoculation when dad stopped for a minute. "Jake, I've entered you in the county rodeo."

I had no idea what I could do in a rodeo. I sure didn't want to ride bulls or broncs. "I'm not going to barrel race. That's a girl's sport."

He wiped the sweat off his face and smiled. "That wouldn't kill you Jake. No, I entered you in the calf roping contest. I think you stand a pretty good chance of winning some prize money. That would help toward that pickup you been wanting when you turn sixteen next month."

Dad stuck the calf in the hip with the needle and pushed the serum home. I loosened up the lariat and let daddy slip it off the calf's neck. The calf ran bawling back to the herd.

"I can rope them dad but I don't know about tying their legs. I haven't done that." I was thinking of how much the prize money could possibly be.

He reached up toward me with something in his hand. Gunshy took a couple steps sideways away from him. I scolded Gun. "He's not going to hurt you or me. Behave yourself."

Gun stood his ground as dad stepped forward. Dad was holding a short small rope. "It's what they use to tie the calves feet together. Try it on the next one."

I held that rope in my left hand as I curled up my lariat in my right. I picked out a small calf and made Gunshy separate him from the herd. We chased him across the corral as I whipped my lariat out and dropped it over his neck. I pulled back on the reins, Gunshy planted his feet, the lariat went out to its' full length with that calf at a dead run. I was off the saddle and on the ground when that calf hit the end of his rope. His head stopped while his feet kept running. He landed upside down with his feet straight up in the air. I was there before he could regain his senses. I looped that tie rope around all four feet in nothing flat. The calf rolled over on his side trussed up like a Christmas turkey.

Dad walked over with the hypodermic and shot him in the hip. "I knew it. Jake, you're a natural. You and Gunshy can't lose."

I was proud of myself. It was too easy. "How much are the winnings?"

"Pays pretty good for the county rodeo. Two thousand dollars to first place. Second…,"

I cut him off. "We don't care what second place pays. Gunshy and I are only going to settle for first."

What I didn't know was how much of a fluke that first time was. The next twenty four times I never was able to get the calf down to tie his feet. Something always went wrong. I would throw a good loop and get my foot caught in the rope as it snapped taut. I took a nose dive into the dirt. I could get a good throw and my feet would get tangled up in one another as I hit the ground running. I'd take a nose dive in the dirt. I made a thousand and one mistakes. Somewhere around the thirty fifth time I finally got the calf down. I didn't get his feet tied right and he jumped back up. I believe I was up to the sixty something time before I managed to start getting things right. Dad finally took me over to watch another calf roper. Bill Randall was a national champion two times running. He had the chutes on his ranch. He was set up with trip ropes and timers for legal qualifications and calf roping.

Gunshy and I watched and took notes as Bill ran one calf after another out of that chute of his, chased him down, dropped on his lariat, flipped him and tied him. Bill wasn't only good, he was really good. I could understand why he was national champion. He also had one major advantage over me. He was six foot three inches tall and weighed in about two ten. All of it was lean, mean, muscle. I believe Bill could spit on the sidewalk and raise steam.

There were cowboys hanging all over the railings as Bill ran through one perfect calf roping after another. About a dozen calves later Bill rode his big brown mare up beside Gunshy and me. We had been watching from inside the corral. When Bill rode up Gunshy took a couple steps sideways. I knew it wasn't the mare Gunshy was waltzing away from. It was the big man in the saddle.

Bill looked us over. "That horse of yours is kind of skittish isn't he? Jake, your daddy said you can rope?"

I nodded.

"You ready to try? Back your horse into the chute and let's see what you got." He pointed over toward the chute where we would follow the calf out.

I nodded as I urged Gunshy over to the chute. He stopped in front of it. "Back in Gun."

He backed in without me guiding him. I heard one of the cowboys hanging on the fence next to us. "Did you hear that?"

They ran a calf into the chute next to us. I put a knot in my reins and dropped them over the saddle horn. Shaking loose my rope, I coiled up my lariat. I made my loop. I put my tie rope in my teeth like I had seen Bill do. I checked the calf in the chute beside me. He looked like he was ready to run for his life. He had been through this ordeal before. Probably many times. One of the cowboys hooked the trip rope attached to the timer across the front of our chute. When the calf was turned loose he tripped a trip rope in his chute as he bolted for the open. That in turn trips the barrier rope in our chute. If we broke the barrier rope, we were automatically disqualified no matter how fast we caught the calf.

I settled down in the saddle as I got ready. I felt my lariat hanging down beside my right leg. It felt good. I leaned forward in the saddle. Beneath me I could feel Gunshy hunker as he bunched his legs. I nodded.

That calf hit the trip rope at a full run. He was running as if his life depended on it. Gunshy sprang forward before our barrier rope dropped. I had my lariat up and over my head as we hit the open corral. One full swing and I threw. My rope sailed out over the calf's head. Gunshy planted his feet. I was off and running before the rope settled. That rope stretched out before me like piano wire as the calf came to the end. His feet went on while his head came back our way. He was upside down on his back. As I gathered in legs with my left hand, I had the tie rope in my right hand working for the loop. I tied three feet with three turns of the rope and a half hitch.

As I looked up everyone was staring. It was so quiet you could have heard a cock crowing a mile away. Finally Bill rode over shaking his head. I could hear all the cowboys talking among themselves.

Bill looked back at the chute. "Dan, did he break the barrier?"

The cowboy he called Dan was examining the barrier rope. "Nope. Must of passed through it."

Bill looked like he was in deep thought. "That was my second guess."

A smile spread clear across Bill's face. "What's his time?"

"Under three seconds."

Laughing, Bill looked around the corral at all the cowboys hanging on the rail. "Boys, if you blinked you missed seeing a world record."

He reached his hand down toward me. "Jake, lessons are over son. I don't profess to be smart enough to give lessons to someone who can throw like you do and beat every cowboy in the country."

As I shook Bill's hand I wanted to tell him it was a mistake. My foolish pride kept my mouth shut. I turned around and untied the calf. Removed my lariat from around his neck, and gathered up my hat where I had lost it when I came off Gunshy. I wanted to tell them it was Gunshy who had done it all himself but I didn't. He was at a full run before that barrier rope ever dropped. It was his timing that got us there, not mine. He knew when that loop went out when to plant his feet, I didn't tell him. He had the whole thing planned out as soon as he backed into that chute. Some one should tell those cowboys it was Gunshy who did all that work himself. I didn't.

The county rodeo was three weeks away and I kept practicing everyday. I was back to all the mistakes I made when I first started. Nothing was going right. Dad would watch and then walk away. I knew he was disappointed in me but it wasn't my fault. I was trying.

It hurt when he set up three barrels out in the field and told me to practice barrel racing. "I want you to work at something that you can handle, Jake."

That really hurt. "It's a girl's game dad. I'm not going to barrel race."

"Run the barrels Jake or you don't get to calf rope."

I gave in. I'd run his stupid barrels so I could rope. I knew I could handle the calf roping if I had enough time.

Gunshy had no idea what barrel racing was all about so I had to lead him through it. We went out and raced right handed. That means there are three barrels set out in the field in a triangle pattern. Starting out of the chute the barrel racer goes to the inside and all the way around the barrel on her right. It's a sprint toward the second barrel which is placed further out than the other two. The racer again runs around that barrel keeping it to the right. The third and final barrel is back toward the chute. Once again, a run around the barrel keeping it to the right. Thus each barrel has to be passed one full turn. Right handers normally run right. Left handers normally run left. It doesn't make any difference as long as they circle each of the barrels one full turn.

I raced daddy's barrels but I wasn't happy about it. He made me take half a dozen runs at those barrels everyday before he would let me go back and try calf roping.

Finally the county rodeo day arrived. Dad hooked up the trailer. I walked Gunshy up into the trailer. "We're gonna win that top money Gun. You can ride around in that pickup with me and it ain't gonna be in the back end either. You can sit up front just like the rest of us people."

He shook his head yes as I closed the tailgate.

I slid up in the pickup between momma and daddy. Daddy looked in my direction. "You ready Jake?"

"You get us there dad and I'll bring home the money." I was so sure of myself, I knew we were going to win.

They had the bronc riding contest, the bull riding contest, some junior sheep riding contest, and the girl's barrel racing before the calf roping contest. Several of the cowboys were ahead of me and they were doing good. None of them were setting the world on fire. I knew Gunshy and I were home free. It was time to count our prize money.

Gunshy walked out in front of that chute. "Back in Gun."

He backed in to the back rail. He was more than ready. I dropped my loop and shook my rope. It felt good. I put the tie rope between my teeth. Glancing down to my left, they ran the calf into the chute beside us. He looked like a runner. I was glad. I loved those kind. I dropped my reins over the saddle horn. Out of the corner of my right eye I saw something. It was Bill Randall, national calf roping champion. My heart sank. I hoped I wasn't competing against him.

He winked and nodded. "Do it like you did out at the ranch Jake. All the boys are here rooting for you."

I looked past Bill. Hanging on the rail was every cowboy I had seen out at his ranch. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I took a second look down at that calf. I no longer felt so sure of myself. I leaned down and grabbed the saddle with my left hand. Gunshy bunched his legs under us. I nodded.

That calf was out of there like a shot. Gunshy was right behind. It took me a second to catch up before I had my lariat up and over my head. It was taking too long to get the rope out. Finally I had it. I took three precious turns with that lariat before I threw. The rope snaked out over the calf's head. Gunshy planted his feet. I wasn't ready. I fell rather than stepped off. I was stumbling forward as the rope snapped taut. It caught me upside the head as it whipped up. That threw me off to the side as the calf whipped around still standing. Gunshy backed up trying to keep the rope tight on the calf. The calf came at me at a full run and hit me square in the chest. That knocked me backwards on my back. I was lying on the ground trying to breathe as Gunshy ran forward to keep the calf from running over on top of me. When the rope on the calf slacked off, the calf was ready to turn and run. Gunshy was already there. He lowered his head and butted the calf knocking him down. Gunshy planted his legs around me and dared anyone to touch me. The rodeo clowns and cowboys gathered around. They weren't brave enough to want to tackle that mottled gray stallion with wild in his eyes and breathing fire.

"What'll we do?"

"I don't know?"

"I heard that horse was a man killer."

"Someone get a rope and a couple horses out here."

"Where's his dad? Can his dad control that horse?"

I heard dad's voice through that haze I was in. "No I can't control that horse. Jake is the only one who can do that. Jake, you okay? Tell Gunshy we need to take a look at you."

"Jake, can you hear me. Call your horse off."

I finally managed to catch my breath. It felt like I had run into a truck rather than a calf. I lifted my hand in the air. "Gun, it's okay boy. Back off."

Gunshy made a move to his right. Cowboys parted like an ocean wave before him. They had already tackled the calf and removed my lariat. Gunshy stepped off about four feet away. He stopped and waited for me to get up.

"I never seen anything like it. That was worth the price of admission. Is Jake alright?"

I was getting to my feet. My chest hurt like the devil. "I'm alright. A little sore but I'll live."

Bill walked up where he could look me in the eyes. "I think he's okay. He's focusing okay. That was really something Jake. The boys and me are sorry it happened to you. That was some show you put on. Can you do it again tomorrow night?"

I wanted to laugh but it hurt too much. "I don't think so. One time is enough for me."

"We'll pass the hat and take up a collection if you will do it again. That's one smart horse Jake. I'd buy him off you if you could tell me how to control him."

Looking over at Gunshy I shook my head. "He's not for sale at any price."

Bill nodded. "You're a good kid Jake. You have your head screwed on right. Most kids would have sold your horse if they owned him."

"He doesn’t belong to me. I can't sell what isn't mine. He belongs to himself. No one will ever own him." I knew Gunshy could never be owned the way one owns cows or livestock.

We didn't stay around for the rest of the night. Dad got us loaded up and took us home. I didn't have to tell dad I'd take care of Gunshy when we got home. It was a no brainer. Even though he wanted to, dad wouldn't be able to rub him down.

I gave him an extra helping of dairy feed and was scratching behind his ears. "Thanks for looking out after me. Those cowboys thought you were something. Of course I knew that all along. We didn't get that purse tonight but it doesn't matter. We will get it tomorrow night."

I rubbed him down and made my way into the house. Mom and dad were waiting on me. Dad was the first to speak up. "How you feeling, Jake?"

"Like I been run over by a truck. I'll do it right tomorrow, dad." I felt my chest and it still hurt.

"You want me to rub some liniment on it, Katrina?" Mom was wanting to help.

I shook my head. "I want a long hot bath and soak it for awhile. I'll be alright."

I could hear them talking as I walked into the bathroom and begin running my bath water.

"John, in spite of what you and those cowboys think, she's still a girl. She can't do this. You're pushing her into something she isn't strong enough to handle. Calf roping is a man's sport. It takes tall lanky men to get those calves thrown to the ground."

"Now Katherine, Jake is perfectly capable of handling calf roping. She set a world record over there at Bill's ranch. It might not be in the record books but she did it in front of a couple dozen witnesses. She can do this."

"When are you going to realize she's a girl John. She isn't your son, she's your daughter. I only wish…,"

I settled down in the bathtub and stopped listening. I was so sore the hot water hurt.