Рита Браун - Tall Tail

“Willoughby, where’s Daddy?” Harry recognized the fellow, tail vigorously wagging.

“Dazzled by choices.” Bill Hall’s deep voice rang out.

The two women joined him where he had shirts spread on a table. In good shape, he could wear anything but was stymied by all the choices and colors.

Harry and Cooper knew Bill from his work for the Fur Ball, one of Richmond’s coveted fund-raisers, as it was always fun, plus it helped animals.

Pointing to a subtle striped shirt, Harry suggested it “Very Belgravia,” mentioning an old, desirable section of London.

“Is,” he replied. “And what are you two doing here?”

“A husband run. Wanted to buy Fair something special,” Harry said.

“No husband yet,” Cooper joked.

“Well, that’s both good and bad. Men can be a lot of work.” Bill laughed devilishly, then inquired, “How’s Governor Sam?”

Bill knew the Albemarle County contingent as they came to the Fur Ball, he knew Susan was Sam Holloway’s granddaughter, and he also knew the governor. Bill knew everyone, having served on numerous committees, and he was a real whiz as a fund-raiser.

“Good spirits. Penny’s wonderful with him, as is Susan’s mother. He’s working on his autobiography.”

“That will be an important book.” Bill meant that.

“Hey, how’s O.B.?” Harry changed the subject.

O.B. meant the “other Bill,” as Bill Hall’s partner had the same first name. It could get confusing but never to Willoughby because they smelled different. All humans do but they don’t seem able to detect it.

“An engine of energy and chat, as always.” Bill smiled broadly. “Before I forget, check out Fetch-A-Cure, the comprehensive oncology center. They’re doing amazing things that might eventually help people.” He paused, then inquired, “The governor has cancer, doesn’t he?”

Harry replied, “Leukemia.”

“Ah.” Bill grimaced.

Cooper added, “The man is really tough.”

“You have to be to be the governor of Virginia, especially when people can cite precedent back to 1607.” Bill said, “Not the cannibalism, of course.”

They all laughed, especially Willoughby who then interjected, “I could run this state.”

Bill reached down to pet the handsome head. “How can anyone live without a dog? I couldn’t get up in the morning without this fellow.”

“Some people have no feeling for animals.” Cooper had certainly seen enough of that in her work.

“Speaking of that.” Bill picked up the striped shirt. “Can you believe Eddie Cunningham using his grandfather like that? Eddie’s doing a good job of whipping up the disaffected. I guess they need someone upon whom to blame their troubles.”

“It is shocking,” Harry agreed. “But, Bill, I suppose these are the times in which we live. It’s dog-eat-dog.”

“I resent that,” Willoughby barked.

Wednesday, October 6, 1784

The eastern side of the Blue Ridge Mountains glowed golden, then reddish, as the sun rose. At sunset the displays behind the range varied from a thin silver shine outlining the mountains to explosions of swirling scarlet, pink, lavender, gold, purple. Few people living within sight of these ancient mountains could resist being mesmerized by them. At sunrise, the mountains themselves change color as the sun, rising in the east, touches them.

Not yet nineteen, Jeddie fell under their spell. Sometimes, with a task completed, he’d sit on an upturned box, a hay bale, or the top of a fence and just stare. He thought about the horses, his desire to improve as a rider and a horseman. He was fascinated by breeding. One needed a powerful memory and for the last three years Jeddie studied every horse he saw, on the estate and off. He would recite their pedigrees the way some men recited John Milton. The more fun-loving recited Chaucer.

This morning, he led Serenissima through a heavy dew. She played with him. She’d push him with her nose. He’d correct her. She’d push his shoulder. Then he’d turn her out. She’d fly away, stop abruptly, turn to thunder right toward him. Then she’d stop in front of him and smack her lips. The lip smack meant many things, and “I love you” was one of them.

He’d pull her lower lip, run his hands over her ears; he’d smack his lips, too. She repeated the running away, the return, and finally a big, big kiss as long as he would continue playing with her.

This morning they played for twenty minutes, the lovely early morning light softening everything.

Jeddie didn’t hear Catherine walk up behind him until Serenissima flicked her ears.

“Jeddie.”

He straightened up. “Yes, Miss Catherine.”

“She likes you best.”

Pleased, he tilted his head to the side for a second and Serenissima nuzzled his cheek. “I love her, Miss Catherine. I will sleep in her stall if she needs me. I will do anything you ask or she asks.” His ear-to-ear grin made Catherine grin back. “I knew you wouldn’t let Yancy Grant have her!”

Catherine held out her hand for the mare to sniff. “He knows horses, but he doesn’t care about them. It’s all money to Yancy.”

“Everyone around knows he offered Mrs. Selisse four thousand dollars for her.”

“That he did. I offered more and this morning I’m feeling poor.” She laughed. “Well, Mother left me some of her money. I expect she thought I would use it as I saw fit. If we breed her with care, I think we will establish one of the finest lines of blooded horses in the country.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jeddie, there are fine horsemen all over. I find the northern breeders look for a longer angle on the hip. Here, I’ll show you.” She traced an elongated isosceles triangle on Serenissima’s hip. “They want carriage horses. More towns up there, and the estates are smaller. Soils not much in many of those states. A man with exceptional driving horses is a big bug. Here, more riding, running. But wherever breeders are, at least what I have observed, is they aren’t systematic.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s why I’ve memorized the bloodlines you told me about.”

Catherine smiled at this young man. “Good. Now tell me, how is Crown Prince doing?”

“He can be ornery, but he’s quick to learn.”

“Queen Esther’s bloodline is.” She inhaled the air. “Doesn’t it smell and taste like fall?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Here come Binks and Ralston.”

The two younger boys reached the paddock.

Catherine teased one of them. “The sun came up, but you didn’t.”

Binks, twelve, looked stricken. “Miss Catherine, Momma said I had to sweep out the room.”

“Binks, that doesn’t take that long, but better not to get on the bad side of your momma. Jeddie and I will be back in a little while. But you have time to loosen up Sweet Potato, and Ralston, walk out King David.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ralston liked King David, such a powerful fellow.

As Catherine and Jeddie walked toward the row of slave quarters, she said, “You’ve been wise, keeping quiet about Moses when he and DoRe brought the mare.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If people knew what Moses had asked of me to save Ailee from Francisco, they might think all manner of things. Sometimes, Jeddie, I wonder what goes on in people’s heads. Not much that’s good, I fear.”

“Yes, ma’am. Too much loose talk.”