i want to remember i've read this

“Beneath the rainshot window the saddle camped in a pearly glow. It drew me. I knelt and touched the leather: the soft polish of long miles, the gentle orderly smell of horse and paste soap. There is magic in tack, as I said before, and it’s no embellishment to say that saddle seemed almost to breathe and sigh in some easy creaking dream of teh West, just as Swede was likely doing. I ran my hand down the slope of the horn, down the slick sitting place and up the swept cantle, and that’s when I noticed that the flaw—the pulled-apart leather Davy had been unable to fix, that he’d apologized for—was gone. I felt with both hands, though the saddle in its luminosity showed me well enough that the breach in the leather had closed. The wound has simply healed up. I felt a comfortable strangeness, as if smiled upon by someone behind my back.”