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Men in workwear, some in neat trousers and jackets, ladies in fine dresses, children with wide eyes and big smiles.
While they were covered in dust and sweat and looking rough and ragged.
But Albie had never been prouder than he had in that moment. He slid down from Minnie and knew the bigger test was upon him. He had to get his rope off the stallion while everyone watched.
He approached the wild stallion slowly, keeping his rope slack. He didn’t want to pull too hard and frighten him. The horses were exhausted and thirsty, and Albie had to use that to his favour. Even as exhausted as it was, Albie could still see the wild fight in the stallion’s eyes.
A hush fell over the crowd as he neared him, and the horse dropped his head a few times, stomping the dirt.
“Easy, boy,” Albie murmured, still inching closer. “Easy there.”
His heart hammered, his mouth dry. Common sense told him he was crazy; his understanding of horses told him otherwise.
This stallion had had enough for one day.
He was run out, the last fight in him was gone.
Albie inched his hand closer, keeping his hands where the stallion could see them. No loud noises, no sudden movements, and he ever so slowly lifted the ropes from around his neck.
The stallion baulked a little, but Albie held his ground, as if the beast somehow knew Albie meant no harm. Albie looked him right in the eye, gave him a nod of respect, and backed away. He climbed the railing just in time to see Percy almost sag with relief.
He, Robert, and Des were off their horses now. Percy held Minnie’s reins, and when Albie climbed down from the railing, Percy lifted both hands in the air. “We did it!” he crowed.
The audience all cheered and Albie couldn’t help but laugh, and whether it was relief, exhaustion or pride, he could have almost wept. Until Des shifted his weight and his leg almost buckled and he grimaced in pain.
Albie and Robert quickly caught him. “Does anyone have a cart?” Albie yelled out. Des was in no shape to walk to the saloon.
“No, I’ll be fine,” Des said. His face was etched in pain. “I can walk.”
“Des—”
“I said I can walk,” he snapped. There was no heat in it; Des was tired, most probably hungry, and most certainly in pain. “Just need to stretch it out some, ’tis all.”
“Fine,” Albie relented. “Robert, make sure he gets to the saloon. Order any food you want, and I’ll speak to them about rooms when I get there. I just need to speak to Mr Bailey.” The saleyard master had to be here somewhere. “Percy, see the horses watered, please?”
“Sure thing,” he replied.
Des made it a few steps unassisted, but when they’d almost reached the line of onlookers, he stumbled again, and Robert was quick to throw Des’s arm around his shoulder.
“Do you need a doctor?” someone in the crowd asked.
“Nah, he needs a drink,” another replied.
“I’ll take neither, thanks,” Des replied, hanging on to Robert. “I’ll be just fine without either.”
Albie smiled after them, leaving the four horses in Percy’s capable hands, and went in search of John Bailey.
* * *
Albie came out of the saleyard office to find the crowd gone. The mob of horses were settled, the water troughs gleaming in the cool moonlight.
And Percy, standing, waiting, smiling.
Their four horses were tied to the railing, but Albie couldn’t take his eyes off Percy. His hat was in his hands, his blond hair flattened to his head. His face was smeared with dirt and sweat, but that smile... Albie had never seen such a welcoming sight.
“All good?” Percy asked.
Albie gave a nod and folded the receipts and shoved them in his inside coat pocket. “Yeah. Let’s get these horses to the stable.” He gave Minnie’s forehead a scratch. “How’s my girl?”
