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Albie had no clue how long they’d have to ride or how they’d corral them if they had to stop for the night. It was getting on in the afternoon as it was, and he’d noticed Des wincing a time or two, clearly in pain. Albie was having doubts. Doubts that this had ever been a good idea. They should have made a holding yard first.
He should have taken the time and done it properly.
Like his father would have.
He was about to raise the question about stopping when Des wiped his brow and nodded up ahead. “Can you see what I see?”
Albie wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking at.
Is that...? Wait. Is that...?
“Is that the road?”
Des grinned at him, opening his water cannister with one hand and taking a sip.
Albie looked behind him, at the tired horses, at the even tireder men. “Are you good to keep going?”
Robert gave some kind of salute while Percy just grinned.
It made Albie’s heart squeeze, and his lips pulled at a returning smile. Then he caught Des wincing again. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine if I don’t stop,” he answered. “Best to keep ’em moving, yeah?”
Albie gave a nod. He thought so too. And now the ropes around the stallion weren’t so taut, it was less strain on them all.
The leader of the mob was resigned to his fate.
For now, at least.
It really was best to keep them moving. They came up to the road and headed left, back toward the mountains.
Toward Alpine Falls.
The road made for easier riding, that was for sure, but the horses were slow now. Compliant and not an ounce of fight or flight left in them.
They rode and rode; it must have been close to sixteen miles to town. They encountered a few travellers coming in the opposite direction. Twice some men on horseback could get off the road easily enough. Once a wagon had to pull off to the side of the road and stop as they rode past.
It wasn’t every day a team of horsemen brought thirty horses to town, especially with two ropes around the stallion at the front.
But the riders all tipped their hats, bidding them good day and good luck.
And the road got steeper, the ride uphill into the mountains. The mountain on one side, a steep drop-off on the other, and the mob of horses had no choice but to follow the road.
Albie was tired and sore, hungry as hell, and with night falling fast, the temperature along with it. But they passed a gate, then another, and soon more houses, the smell of woodfires on the cold air, and Albie knew they were getting close to town.
It was damn near too dark to ride by the time they rode into Alpine Falls.
“Clear the road!” someone yelled up ahead.
“Get out of their way!” yelled another.
And as they rode in through town, past the baker, the saloon, and the store, they had quite an audience.
People stood along the sides of the road, watching, smiling. Albie didn’t focus on their faces. He was too tired and too focused on the stallion they still had roped at the front of the mob.
He got a bit flighty at the crowd, at the buildings, and the attention. But the streets made like a funnel, and they rode into the saleyard, someone already with the holding yard gate open.
And, just like that, they rode in to cheers and applause from the watching crowd.
