On Christmas Eve day, the men went out to ride the fences: Stan, David, Marcus and Lonnie, Stan’s ranch foreman. They stopped twice and nailed some barbed wire back onto posts. David trotted next to Marcus and watched him grimace when the horses picked up an uneven jog over the hilly farmland.
“Not exactly like posting the trot is it, old man?” David teased. He’d grown up using Western saddles, learned to ride English just since going to college.
“The damn stirrups are too long to post. I’m gonna have bruises on my ass tonight from this. Geez, how do cowboys do this all day?” But Marcus grinned and tried to stand up a little in the stirrups.
David leaned over a little. “Most cowboys have someone back home to rub their ass.”
“You volunteering?”
“You bet.” David kicked Rusty into an
