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69 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

“But it is only the truth,” I said. I wanted to hold her so bad that I was about to bust but I

respected her and kept a gentleman’s distance.

“I , I Must go now, my, my father! He will, he will look and he should not …Senor, my

father, he can be very angry.”

I brought her small, soft hand to my lips and gently kissed it.

With that, she ran back to the house. I stepped into the saddle and went out the gate. It was

easy enough to find Gilberto. He sat, waiting in the moonlight for me.

“Señor,” he said, “now you know how it feels to find the one that matters.”

“I have known for quite some time amigo,” I told him.

I had known for almost one year. We made camp and we each had our own thoughts but also

they were a lot similar.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The sun was just coming over the far distant hills, when I poured the first cup of coffee. The

place Guerra had sent us to a place that proved to be a good camping spot. I told Gilberto to

stash our gear and we would return here again this evening. We saddled up and rode to the

rancho

There, we waited out in the yard for Francisco. Soon he came and showed us the way to the

mares.

There were at least fifty mares, mostly with foals by their sides, standing around. There was a

stallion there that noticed us but kept his distance. I asked Guerra if the stallion had to take care

of all the mares by himself and he said,

“He never complains, Señor.”

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