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The next second they were dashing away in panic, kicking up their rear heels, sometimes bawling, as if for their mother. The horses paid them no mind whatsoever, as long as they went where they were supposed to go.All the movement in the saddle had helped loosen her up, instead of making her sore. In work like this, your butt didn’t hit the saddle, over and over again, in the same place. The pain she’d felt earlier was still mostly absent, though there was a generalized ache about her lower body.When another line shack came into view - this one with a small corral beside it - she heaved a sigh of relief. She didn’t have to be a professional cowgirl to know that this was the end of the trail for that particular day.She looked around hopefully for a pond, but didn’t see one. She saw the windmill that stood next to the corral, but didn’t think much about that. Bob rode ahead and opened the gate to the corral without even getting off his horse, and, once again, Brenda marveled at his.

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