The sound of horse hooves on the Montana prairie caught the attention of the man who tended the stock. A smile played on his lips as he watched his two daughters riding bareback, “By Golly! Those girls look like a couple of wild Indians.” His eyes twinkled with admiration as he chuckled.
There was a time when the sisters, just one year apart, were inseparable from their horses. Darky belonged to the oldest girl, Jean. You might guess that Darky was dark brown, sleek and shiny. He wasn’t just for pleasure, but also for work. Her sister’s horse was Goldie.
The family supplemented their income by milking cows. Each of the girls had their string of Shorthorns. The girls would run and jump on the back of their horses and ride across the prairie to gather the cows in for milking. Jean was known to wrestle the cows that were reluctant to cooperate. Some of them ended up on the ground, legs tied together, while Jean relieved their burden and filled her bucket with milk.
Jean 
Betty
When the girls went off to school and boarded in town, the horses had to be left behind, but they still rode whenever they had the opportunity.
The day came when Jean married her mountain sweetheart. Along with just a few possessions, she brought a cat and her beloved Darky to the marriage. On moving day, the cat rode up the canyon in the car, but not Darky. There was only one way worthy of transporting a horse like him.
Leaving the home place on Tin Can Hill, Jean rode Darky bareback across the prairie. Her new sisters-in-law, Barbara and Mary Jane, rode down and met her in Melville. From there, the girls cut across the hills and into the mountains. They stayed the night at the Brannin Ranch before completing their journey the next day. When Darky entered the gate at the Ward and Parker place, he was at his new mountain home.
Years later as I imagine Darky’s ride, I see just a wisp of a girl riding bareback over hills covered with prairie grass swaying in the breeze. Splashes of color dot the countryside as wildflowers lift their faces toward the sun. A wave of emotion washes over me as I see the girl of the prairie riding alone into adulthood. As she neared the mountains, with the passing of each mile, she left childhood behind and was transformed into a young bride.
And so began another journey…
mountain sweetheart and prairie girl