DISTANT TRAILS IS HERE

 It begins:

       Seth Reilly danced, his boots scuffling in amber-green sand, leading the young horse through the steps as it learned to focus and to follow, to read the language of Seth’s body, to partner with the man. The horse’s attention slid away, locking on someone standing outside the gate. Seth caught the colt’s eye, drew it back, a step this way, a step that, until the animal followed him, nose by his hip, in a winding curve across the pen. Seth stopped, stepped back, and turned away, disengaging.

“You about done for the day?” Kieron Dougherty asked. Crinkles from a ready smile and Carico's sun etched the man’s mahogany skin.

Seth glanced at Carico’s two moons, Lander and Damele, beginning their own dance in the eastern sky, pale in the light of the setting sun. It was almost dinnertime. “Finally getting somewhere with this one.”

“How’d it go earlier?”

“Fine, boss. Got ‘em all assigned.” Across the Seven Wells barnyard, a crew jostled and joked their way to the cookhouse. Seth shook his head. “Sometimes I hate turning the young horses over. Half those riders are sure they are great horse trainers, and I’ll have to correct their messes in a few months.”

“Job security.” Dougherty pulled a slip of paper out of his shirt pocket. “You’ve got a blip from your sister. I figured it must be important since it’s not a holiday or your birthday.”

“From Gwyn?”

Dougherty passed him the paper.

Seth read the message quickly, then reread it thoughtfully.

“Trouble?” his boss asked.