Black Stallion's Shadow by Steven Farley

“Why, you people shoulda seen what happened to me on the set of
Texas Territory.
” He shared his story with the three crewmen who helped him to his feet and escorted him to another Jeep.
    When Marty Fisher reached the crash site, he rushed straight over to Wes, who still stood beside the fallen horse. Marty shook his head with disgust. “For crying out loud, Taylor.”
    â€œWould you’ve rather I waited for a vet? Anyone could see Joey wasn’t gonna make it.”
    â€œSo you had to cut his throat with a jackknife?”
    â€œWhat else was there?”
    The scowl on Marty’s face deepened to a dark frown. “You know I’m going to have to report this. The council might want to bring charges.” Wes nodded.
    The humane man’s anger was understandable, Alec thought. After all, his job was to look out for the horses’ welfare. Yet he must have seen what Wes meant. Waiting for a vet to put Joey down could have taken hours. Someone needed to act. Wes took the responsibility and did what had to be done.
    Mike came limping by in a daze. He looked badly shaken, even if he hadn’t broken anything. No one could jump from a horse at that speed without getting bruised. Patrick tried to get Mike into a Jeep so he could be driven back to the ranch.
    â€œI almost had ’em,” Mike said. “Just another second and …”
    Patrick put his arm around Mike’s shoulders. “Don’t feel too bad, Mike. You tried. And I’m sure Kramer appreciates what you did.”
    Mike shrugged off the consoling arm and staggered away. “Kramer!” he said. “Man, I was thinking about the team, not that dude.”
    Wes chased after Mike. “If you won’t go to the hospital,” he said, “at least go back to your trailer and lie down. That’s an order, Mike.” The wrangler did as he was told and climbed into the back of the camera car.
    Frank gave the word to cancel work for the rest of the day and headed back to the ranch.
    Marty pulled out a notebook and began making notes for a report to the Humane Council. He talked with the wranglers and looked over the wagon and harness. After finishing the notes for his report, Marty also got back into his truck and left.
    The wranglers, Alec and Wes stayed behind to take care of burying Joey. They dug a grave a short distance from where the poor Appaloosa had fallen. Wes, deeply shaken, kept looking at the shattered wagon, as if staring at it long enough would somehow reveal how this could have happened.
    Alec turned the Black out with the other horses, who were looking for patches of dry grass among the tumbleweeds and yucca plants dotting the landscape. Clouds moved over the sun, shrouding the canyon. Gloom seemed to hang in the air even after the sun burned through the clouds again.
    Alec watched Patrick and Julio tamp down the last few shovelfuls of earth over Joey’s grave. Patrick jammed the shovel into the dirt. “Joey was a good old boy. Always worked hard, did what you told him. Doesn’t seem right it should end like this for him.”
    Julio shook his head. “I hear you.”
    â€œI still can’t figure how those lines busted like that. They weren’t more than a month old.”
    â€œOnly been used two or three times at the most.”
    Alec also wondered about the broken lines, and he wondered what the other two were thinking. He turned to Patrick. “What happened to them, anyway? Did they just rip apart or what?”
    Patrick shrugged. “Who knows? Cheap leather, maybe something else. Man, that was some crackup.”
    Julio nodded in agreement. “
Aye, hombre.
I wonder how Mike is feeling after that fall. He went flying!”
    â€œHe didn’t seem to be hurt too bad.”
    â€œLucky guy.”
    They stood there in silence for a moment and looked down at the grave. Then Patrick touched the brim of his cap in a salute. “Good-bye,