Cowboys & Nightmares

Chapter Thirteen

"Come on, ya' runaway." I swung my lariat and caught the calf by the neck. "You making a break for it only puts you in the front of the line for branding." Wrapping the rope twice around the horn, I gently pulled Arion's reins back, and he drug the bawling stray out of the thicket. Then we spun and trotted back toward the other hands, who were holding down another calf as the iron came down on his hind quarters. My prisoner swung his head and tried in vain to pull out of the lasso, but he only accomplished choking himself as we kept moving.

"Good job, Klintson," Snipe said as he grabbed the rope and pulled the calf to him. "You think ya can help hold it while we brand em?" He glanced over his shoulder at the group struggling with the large calf. "We waited a bit too long, and they're almost too much." He turned back to me with a smile. "You proved yourself drivin'. You think you can do this?"

I smiled back as I swung from the saddle. "I might be able to help a little." I dropped one of Arion's reins, ground tying him before joining the others, Snipe following with the calf.

Butch looked up with a grin."You wanna brand, Rylie, or help hold?" He said it like I was one of the guys, and I took it warmly. It seemed he'd finally warmed up to me.

"I'll help hold, thanks." With that, I did what I'd watched Joe do only a few minutes earlier: grabbed the two front legs of the calf, gave them a jerk, and down he went with a thud. While his feet flailed, I grabbed the rope, pulled his head in close, and tied three of this hooves together.

Joe was the first to stop staring and start laughing, but it wasn't long before the others were joining in. "Man," he said, "I can't believe you caught on so quickly."

Hasty grinned. "Well, she's thrown her weight around when driving. She probably figured she could throw that calf's around, too." That got everybody laughing again, and I shrugged with a wide grin. It had taken a lot of strength to throw that calf, just like it did for everybody. But the compliment of taking care of myself and working was welcome.

"Alright," Snipes called, "Everybody on. Let's get this over with." He stoked the fire a little, twisting the iron further into the hot coals.

With me on the neck, Hasty on the legs, and Joe and Butch on the body, we piled onto the calf as it bawled, protesting loudly about our knees digging into its hide. Snipe grimaced as he wrenched the iron out of the coals. The brand was white hot, the metal holding it cherry red with heat. Then he strode to our dog pile quickly, straddled the calf's hindquarters, and with one swift move he pressed the iron into the hair and muscle.

As soon as the hot metal touched its hide, the calf gave a tremendous convulsion. Its neck twisted, its legs flailed, and its back arched wildly as it tried to escape the burning on it's flank. I'd watched the calf before be ironed, and it didn't seem to have as strong a twitch as this animal. We struggled to keep it still as Snipe held the iron down for three seconds, yet it seemed like an eternity before the brand pulled away. Hasty pulled the quick release knot around the legs, then I slipped the loop over the calf's head. With another loud bawl, it threw us off and scrambled to its feet before streaking back to the rest of the herd.

"Well then," Hasty said as he pulled himself off the ground. "That was one of the strongest calves I've ever seen."

Joe was rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'll agree with you on that."

Butch helped me pick myself off of the dirt. The calf had shrugged us off as if we were mere flies; being a calf of the bull that charged Arion and I, he would be trouble as he grew to his sire's strength. He was already growing his knobby horns, as my bruising side had discovered in his flailing attempt to get up.