Second Harvest

The stranger nodded. Bobby walked over and completed a thorough examination of both animals. When he was finished, he strode over to Roy with confidence.

"They're solid animals. They'll need shoes and their hooves trimmed. By my guess, they're about seven, maybe ten years old. I'd say they're worth maybe twenty dollars apiece."

Bobby shook hands with Roy and started walking back into the blacksmith shop.

The stranger jumped off his horse. "Hold on a second mister. Are you sure about their age?"

Bobby turned and smiled. "Oh, absolutely; I am the veterinarian and I should know." Bobby was playing his part too well and Roy was really enjoying the show.

The stranger didn't want to lose this sale opportunity. "Okay, I'll take sixty for the pair."

Roy pulled two twenty dollar gold pieces out of his pocket and held them in his open palm. "Forty, and that's my final offer for these old hags."

Both Sally and Molly stared at Roy as if they understood his last comment.

A long uncomfortable pause hung in the air as the stranger rubbed his unshaved face. Roy slowly started closing his fingers around the two gold coins.

"Of course, if you don't want my money, I'll look for some other animals that are younger."

"Deal!"

The stranger snatched the money before Roy could close his hand shut. He untied the ropes for Sally and Molly from his horse and transferred them to Roy. He then quickly jumped into his saddle and tipped his hat.

"Pleasure doing business gentlemen. Say, you wouldn't happen to know if there is a saloon near here. My mouth is parched from this desert."

Tom, Bobby, and Roy each thrust an arm in the direction of the town, pointing toward the saloon. The stranger smiled and rode off. The three cohorts had a good laugh.

"Bobby, are Sally and Molly really ten years old?"

"I have no idea Roy, but they'll need new shoes and their hooves trimmed." Bobby smiled and then went back to work.

"Tom, may I stable Sally and Molly here until I get a place built for them?"

Tom patted Roy's shoulder. "No problem, my friend."

Roy put on his best smile. "Thank you."

Tom's quizzical expression was enough to goad Roy into explaining his recent change in behavior.

"I'm learning from Sara that I need to say 'thank you' more often."

Tom shook his head and walked away, muttering just loud enough for Roy to hear. "This is why I don't need a woman in my life."

During the following weeks, The Porter Lumber Mill shipped Roy's log and lumber supplies via the Santa Fe Railway. The foreman from the church rebuilding project hastily built a manual crane by the railroad tracks, near the bend where Stanley was hurt many years past. It took several days to transport the wood to Roy's farm, where the crews quickly built a two-story log home with plenty of windows to satisfy Sara. A covered porch wrapped three sides of the house.