"He's dead, Mr. Folsom."
Roy stopped walking and then turned to face Sara. "I beg your pardon, Ma'am."
"I said my husband is no longer alive."
Roy studied the young woman. She was in her early to mid-twenties. Despite the grease and filth, she was quite attractive. Her skin was fair and clear with a riot of blond hair fluttering out from under her large straw hat. She was short, maybe five-foot-four with a medium build. She was wearing men's blue jeans with the pants cuffs rolled up six inches. She wore working boots and a loose-fitting blue gingham shirt. She was pretty, but dressed like a man. Roy wondered why.
"I'm sorry Ma'am."
"He was breaking in a new stallion, out in the corral, when a rattlesnake appeared and spooked the horse. The horse reared, falling backward and crushed Olof's back."
Roy winced.
"Suffering in bed for too many months, he died and left me with this farm, a broken-down windmill, and two sons."
She then looked down at her boys. Roy watched her switch from a frown to display a soft, beautiful smile.
"This here is Abe. His real name is Abraham, but only I can get away with calling him that. And this one here is Billy."
Roy sensed a shift in her emotions so removing his gloves he stuck out a hand. "Abe, it's a pleasure to meet you." Then turning to the younger son, he did the same. "And you must be Billy. The pleasure is all mine."
The boys shyly repeated Roy's name and shook hands. Sara stuck out her greasy hand, "I'm Sara. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Folsom."
After shaking her hand, Roy swiftly pulled out his bandana from a back pocket and began to wipe off the grease deposited by Sara.
Sara extended a rag with an outstretched arm. "Oh, I'm so sorry."
"It's no problem, Ma'am."
"Please, Mr. Folsom, call me Sara. Ma'am sounds too old."
"All right Sara and you can call me Roy. Hardly a soul calls me Mr. Folsom anyway."
"Okay Roy, let's go look at the horses." Sara started walking toward the corral while Roy followed. Both the Johansson boys walked as protective escorts on either side of Roy, staring up at the tall gentleman.
Climbing over the corral fence, Roy inspected the mother first. He examined her teeth, legs, and hooves. Walking the perimeter of the large animal, Roy let his hands roam the shoulders, gut, hind quarters, and finally, he pulled her tail aside and checked between the rear legs.
"Maw, why is he looking at the mare? I thought he wanted the filly?"