His chuckle is low and rusty from years of smoke and whiskey and -- Ennis would say -- too much talk. "Dunno if I'd say that 'stead a just that she can be a bitch from time to time, but she can be real nice, too. If you catch her in the right mood."

The tip of his tongue pushes at the corner of his lips, considering her, the way she handles the mare, the familiarity of small fingers winding in the coarse mane. "Bet she'd like you."

He don't drop that look, neither, when Grace looks back up at him; why bother? Ain't like she doesn't know she's a good-lookin woman, and a pretty woman who knows her way around a good horse has always been one of Jack's favorite things to watch.

Just look at Lureen. Hell, she was a horsewoman. Still is, when she gets outside where she oughta be, 'stead a stuck in her daddy's office.

"Could mebbe take her out, if you wanted."