“His horse is a damn problem,” Jonas said—and just once Danny got something of an image: <convoy, somewhere,> he didn’t know the road. <Lot of trucks. Trouble.> “Danger to the kid, is what that horse is. Same as the kid is a danger to him.”
Threaten Cloud, disparage Cloud? Not to his face. He wasn’t going to put up with it. <Cattle, > he thought, to that idea.
“Ouch,” Hawley said, and Jonas and Luke were frowning, while Hawley shook his head and imaged <Quiet grass. Quiet water.>
“Damn strong, is what he is,” Luke said. “Noisy horse. Must have learned from that old sod Wesson. —But bullying your way through doesn’t serve you well out here, kid. Take a strong dose of quiet. You aren’t in town now, and strong sending like that can bring all sorts of attention. —Don’t go surly with us. That’s good advice.”
“You want me to leave?” He was mad, he’d been insulted all he was willing to bear, he’d embarrassed himself. He couldn’t stand it.
“Go backtrail in that kid-fit, boy,” Jonas said, “and you’ll find trouble that won’t give a damn about your sweet feelings. Throw some water on that temper of yours, first off. Your horse doesn’t need that kind of trouble. You’re no help to him. You keep him agitated. You twitch, all the time. Knees. Feet. Elbows. Let the horse for-God’s-sake alone ten minutes in an hour.”
Damned outsider didn’t know what Cloud needed and didn’t need. He did.
“I said, throw some water on it. You’re a fool. If you want to fight about it, you and I can get off right here and settle who’s taking orders and who’s giving them.”
“I never said—”
“You don’t have to say anything, town-kid. You shout it. You didn’t grow up with the horses, you never have got it through your head that full-throttle isn’t the way to take a steep, and you haven’t had anybody give a damn enough to tell you how damn noisy you are, have you?”
<Stuart,> flashed to mind, and mad as he was, he was embarrassed, sure the man was reading it all out of his mind, somehow.
Which was stupid: the horses couldn’t figure human experience. The horses wouldn’t know how his father dealt with him. Horses didn’t clearly know what a father was, scarcely recognized a mother…
God.
Cloud jostled under him, angry at his distress, he realized, and he tried to calm Cloud with his hands. He couldn’t organize his thoughts. They were scattering every which way… <beads hitting a floor. Mama’s necklace. Mama and papa yelling at each other.>
<Mama and Denis and Sam and a roof over his head most of his life, and the drafts coming through until there was plaster—>
“Kid. Get down. Get off.”
“I don’t want to fight you.” <Knives. Fringes flying. Blood hitting the dirt.> He was scared of Jonas. He’d die in a knife-fight, he had no question. He didn’t know how to fight except with his fists. And Cloud didn’t want him to fight—Cloud shied off on the road toward the edge, ears flat.
“I didn’t say fight, I said get the hell off. I want to talk to you, fool kid.”
He wasn’t sure. It might be a trick. Probably to humiliate him. Cloud wasn’t pleased. Cloud thought <Bite and kick,> and argued with him to get in range of Jonas. But the other riders were trying to calm the ambient and keep the horses apart.
Then Jonas was sliding down. So he did, floppy baggage and all, ready to <fight.>
“Just walk with me,” Jonas Westman said, and waved his arm in the direction they were generally going.
He still thought it still might be Jonas’ intent to drop him. But they could shoot him if they meant him real harm and not just to deal out the knocks juniors took. He tried, shakily, to calm Cloud down.
“Kid,” Jonas said. “No trick. Talk. Come on.”
He wasn’t sure what Jonas had to say to him was going to be better than hitting him. It was probably going to be direct and rude and it was probably going to make him mad, and he didn’t know if he could stop Cloud now that he wasn’t on Cloud’s back.
“Easy.” Jonas put his hand on Danny’s near shoulder as he came close enough, Jonas let it rest there while they walked, the two of them, while Shadow and Cloud trailed after. Danny threw a look back to be sure Cloud was all right, but Hawley Antrim had his horse between.
Jonas squeezed his shoulder. Hard. “Kid. Easy. You’re not the only kid in the damn world, you’ve just got to damp it down a little. It’s not hard. Be not-here. Be quiet as you can, take a breath or two. Quit moving. Keep your elbows and knees and feet for God’s sake quiet, anybody ever tell you?”
“I don’t want to go back. I owe Stuart.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Nobody ever showed you the finer points, did they?”
“He did.” <Rainy day. Stuart telling him about the outfitters, who to trust.>
“Yeah, well, that’s well and good, too. But there’s more than that. If I send you back to town now, and I ought to, I never bargained for Harper and his night-crawlers, but you’ll be mad as hell, you’ll get in with that bunch, and you don’t want to understand, Danny-boy, just how bad it can get in bad company. They’re not good men.” Something slid like a ghosty right over his mind. He couldn’t grab it. He wasn’t even sure it wasn’t a ghosty, and he was scared, feeling the silence that Jonas Westman could muster, and knowing… knowing that this was the man who’d upended all of Shamesey camp and half the town when he’d come in looking for Stuart. This was the man with the horse that imaged itself constantly changing, shifting—you didn’t know what you had. You didn’t know what Jonas thought, not really, not ever.
“Easy,” Jonas said, and that hand was still there, pressing hard, almost to the point of pain. “Easy. What you’ve got to learn to do, kid, is quiet down, don’t give people so much help hearing you. You can do it. Easier for you. You’re older than that horse. What is he, three, four?”
He didn’t want to talk about Cloud. The man had insulted Cloud. Had insulted him.
“My name’s Dan… —Dan.”
“That’s fine. When we know each other I’ll use it. Shut up, shut down, stop being scared.”
“I’m not—”
“Hell you aren’t. Scared of us. That’s foolish. You ought to be scared of who’s on our tail. You ought to be scared of the job where we’re going. —You ought to be scared as hell of Stuart, if he doesn’t get himself quieted down, are you hearing me, kid? You get a damper on it or you flame out of control all the time. If you do that, you won’t have many friends, no mates… that’s Stuart. That’s Stuart, boy. That’s why he’s where he is. That’s why he’s got enemies. That’s why he’s got damn few friends, tell the truth.”
“He’s all right.” <Stuart on the porch. Rain coming down. Telling him who to trust. > “He never did me any harm.”
“How long have you and that horse been together?”
“Couple of years.” One and a half was a couple, wasn’t it? “I’m not stupid.”
“Yeah. Fine. Easy to say, harder to prove. I’ve got a temper. We’ve all got tempers. But a horsefight doesn’t serve anybody, least of all the horse, trust me on that.”
He didn’t want Cloud hurt. He was scared he’d gotten Cloud into—
“Calm down.” The grip on his shoulder did hurt. “Boy.”
“My name’s Dan.”
“That’s fine. We’ve all got names. Don’t be so definite. Be smoke. Be fog. I can teach you, if you’re not like Guil. If you’ll listen. Otherwise you’d better ride back and stay safe.”
< Riding up to the high country alone. Taking Cloud home.>
“Damned fool,” Jonas said. “Not a choice.”