TAXI.com

Ranch HandsThat little one-ring circus, rolled up right at dawnPatsy soon had her tent set up, and was reading that cowboy's palmshe'd come through California, where futures read soft n smoothbut up in cattle country, hard hands tell harder truthsand there's few tomorrows tougher thanthe rope burn callouses of rough ranch handsPatsy looked in that wrangler's eyeher heart was tellin' her to lieafter all..she'd been wrong a time or twobut he took his bad fortune wellin his tired words she could tellhis future was something he already knewcos cowboys are a breed where scars are a brandand you read the hand of fate when you read ranch handswell, the moon was a white blaze, on a black stallion's nosethat cowboy came back for Patsy, holding a fresh pink rosethough she was bound for Billings, when dawn painted the hillsthey rode off to a meadow, and lay in quilts of daffodilshe vowed to find her when she returned to Cheyennenothing holds a woman's heart like strong ranch handsshe came back when Fall was on the windand Patsy waited all day for himtill the moon above her tent was high and fullthen another wrangler came byand how his heart told him to liewhen he said her cowboy died beneath a bullher tears said she knew better than make planscos you read the hand of fate when you read ranch hands(c)2006 Robert George