It’s two days later and I’m tucked into the third floor loft of the barn, feeding the Mustangs by forking hay down into their clean stalls. Sturdy rafters hang around stacks of golden hay in the sticky and sugary smelling loft. I’m shirtless and hot, ready to take a break. The afternoon sun shimmies its way through the open cracks of the barn. I breathe hard, sweaty and exhausted; the perfect skilled ranch hand. I decide to take a short break and lean into a loft doorway and study the view of Brooks Ranch…
The dry, vast fields seeming to go on forever. I see Brooks, taming a stallion in a smallish corral, straddling and riding the bucking and wild animal with all his might, hanging on for dear life. Brooks’ lean and muscular body bounces up and down. Eventually, he gets bucked off the pis
