'Neath the Western Sky

Chet single-looped Bucky's rein around the porch post and went in to give Teresa a sweet thank you and smooch goodbye.

She smiled as her man settled the grey Stetson back on his head and said, "You've been wantin' to do this a long time, and I sure don't know why you haven't, so enjoy it out there."


Bucky carried the elderly cowboy out into his beloved hills of pinon pine, mesquite and scrub as the Western sky began to get painted from the pinks and lavenders and orchids side of God's palette, and His brush just never seemed ever grander than this particular June evenin'.


Chet found a suitable clearing, gathered some wood, and collected a few stones for a fire ring as Bucky grazed lazily nearby.


Nightfall found Chet leaned-up against his worn saddle, next to a crackling fire, having had a campfire supper and nip of brandy, followed by a fresh, new pack of Red Man chew he had sneakily hidden from Teresa.


In his bedroll under a billion stars, Chet lay content with his life, good children, his irreplaceable Teresa, and thought of his dad who had handed him the rancher's life and love of the outdoors, and as he was drifting off to sleep, wished on every one of those billion stars polka-dotting the indigo sky, that, if there was another life after this one, not a single thing would change.