Chapter 15The next morning we grabbed our saddles and tack and piled into two open-air touring cars for the drive to the Morales ranch. While Charley and the boys spent the next hour or so picking out two horses each, I sat on the veranda talking with Morales, who I had grown to like.
As we talked I noticed a rider putting a beautiful palomino through its paces in one of the corrals. The horse would canter, gallop, slide stop, spin on its hind legs, and back up.
“¿Bueno, eh?” Morales said, nodding toward the corral.
“I’ll say. That’s damned fine horsemanship.”
“In Spanish we call it Cala de Caballo,” said a woman’s voice from behind me. It was Lupita.
“In English it means demonstrating the horse rein,” she said as she settled into a chair next to mine. “It is part of the charrería—wha
