Рита Браун: Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

Shaker pointed the stag end of his crop toward Betty, then swept it forward. She moved forward on the right and Sybil shadowed her on the left. They knew he was heading back over the field at the base of Hangman’s Ridge, toward the tiger trap into the woods of After All. A hog’s-back jump was also placed in this fence line about three football fields farther down, should anyone have difficulty with the tiger trap, which looks like a big coop with logs vertically next to one another. Again, an easy enough jump, but it helps if a horse has seen one before.

Somehow no matter how many gates one puts into a fence line they never seem to be in the right place when hounds are running. Bobby, as Second Flight Master, dealt with this frustration constantly.

Hounds left Comet as they walked along the bottom of Hangman’s Ridge.

“Ooo,” Pookah exclaimed, “bear tracks.”

Feeling especially good today, Dreamboat said, “Pookah, don’t fret over a bear. We’ll get plenty of fox today. It’s a perfect day. Low clouds, the right temperature, moisture in the earth and best of all, no wind. Perfect, perfect, perfect.”

As they rode along the foot of the eerie ridge, some trees grew out horizontally from the earth. There were also odd, dark rock formations.

Sister thought it was a perfect day, a day Mercer would have loved. She prayed he could see all this and appreciate the tribute. He was truly loved.

Not one given to expressing deep emotions, she felt them. Irrational as it was, Sister often sensed her son or husband near and she thought other people who had lost someone dearly loved could feel their spirits as well. Somehow she believed Mercer was with them today and if they saw their quarry, she would know it for certain.

Shaker popped over the tiger trap, Kilowatt floating over, followed shortly by Aztec, a smaller horse than Kilowatt, but such a handy fellow. One by one, the field jumped into the woods while Bobby, once through the gate, shepherded the Second Flight toward them by a different trail.

Hounds cleared. Fifteen minutes elapsed, then Dreamboat shifted into third gear, shouted, “Follow me!” and once again, all on! The hounds’ music swirled around the trees, intensified as they crossed Broad Creek, then moved up along the fast rushing waters only to cross again. Within ten minutes, the pack was at Pattypan, always so difficult.

Athena, the great horned owl, had been lazily dozing inside the forge. Mice were everywhere. It was a bit like taking a nap in the supermarket. She cursed when the hounds lurched through the long high windows. “Damn you all!”

No hound bothered to reply because they hurried to Aunt Netty’s den—tidy, as always.

“She’s not here!” Cora surmised.

“Maybe she’ll come back,” Pansy said hopefully.

“Oh, we’ll give the old girl a run for her money,” Ardent promised, for Aunt Netty had teased him many times.

Hounds jumped out the other side of the forge.

Anticipating the direction once Dreamboat headed again into the woods, Sybil loped onto the narrow deer trail to head toward the Lorillard farm. She had to gallop, as this was a longer route, but there was no way through the thick undergrowth, the reason Pattypan was such a good place for a den. There was one way in and pretty much one way out. At least that old farm road ran in both directions.

Sister pushed Aztec onto the road but hounds circled the woods before they shot toward the Lorillard farm. She had a lot of territory to make up. Right behind her, O.J. twisted so many times in the saddle to avoid low-hanging branches, she knew she wouldn’t be needing Pilates today. Behind her, Ginny Howard had the same thought, with Walter moving up behind as other people fell back.

Back on the good road between After All and the Lorillard place, hounds could be heard screaming toward the old home place. By the time the entire field reached the white clapboard home, hounds scratched at the back door.

Sam stood outside in front with Aunt Daniella, who used her cane. Hearing the hounds, she wanted to see the show. Sam didn’t want to leave her, even though hounds blazed for his mudroom door.

Inside, Uncle Yancy cursed a blue streak. Aunt Netty had led the entire hunt right to his best place! She pretended she hadn’t done a thing but she did flatten herself on the top shelf, along with Uncle Yancy.

As the field waited, Shaker dismounted, walked to his hounds.

“Good hounds, good hounds. Come along now.”

“Two foxes!” Pickens screamed, totally beside himself. “Two.”

“Open the door,” Taz begged. “Please open the door. Let me at ’em!”

Tempted as Shaker was because he knew his hounds had to be right, he led them away. If he had opened the door to the Lorillard’s mudroom, they would have ripped it up, and it’s never a good idea to desecrate a landowner’s property.

Waiting, Sister looked back at Ben. Tapping the brim of her hunt cap with her crop, she rode to Phil as Ben came forward.

“Great run,” Phil enthused as Gray came alongside him.

“Phil”—Sister leaned forward on Aztec’s gleaming neck—“we know that Navigator was actually Benny Glitters. Why don’t you tell us about how the horses were switched? That’s why Harlan was killed, wasn’t it? He knew.”

Wedged in, Phil couldn’t take off, but he threw his leg over his horse, dropping to one side, and ran like hell toward Aunt Daniella.

Sam stepped in front of her as Sister, also wedged in, tried to stay clear of Phil’s horse. Ben, too, but Phil had a head start and they were at this moment encumbered by being mounted. Ben reached inside his coat and took out a .38 from his chest holster, well hidden by his heavy winter frock coat.

A tall man, Phil threw Sam to the ground but the slight man gamely rose to try to fight the bigger, heavier man. Phil reached for Aunt Daniella.

Without flickering an eye, she brought up her ebony cane between his legs with great force.

He bent over and that fast, Sam, using both hands, smashed him with an uppercut that sent teeth flying. Phil hit the ground. Ben dismounted, holding his gun to Phil’s temple.

With Kasmir holding Kilowatt, Shaker ran over just as Sam hit Phil again. Shaker put Phil’s arm up behind his back, lifted him up and held him tight.

Sam got control of himself.

“You have the right to remain silent …” Ben began reading Phil his rights, as Phil would be charged with murder.

It had happened so fast. Not one of those now seventy people said a word. Even the hounds stood still, waiting for a command from the huntsman.

Sam took Aunt Daniella by the elbow, for the exertion had cost her. He supported her while Gray, also dismounted, gently took his aunt’s other arm. He handed her her ebony cane, which she had dropped after whacking Phil.

She looked stunned, then looked at all the people wearing black armbands. Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. She put her head on Gray’s shoulder and the tears flooded out.

“He would be so proud,” she gasped, oblivious of Phil or anything else.

“Yes, he would. And he would be proud of you.” Gray kissed her cheek as he and Sam gently walked her to the front door.

Uncle Yancy couldn’t help it. All this commotion. He snuck out, creeping around the back of the mudroom to look. Sister saw him and tears came to her eyes. Mercer had indeed sent a sign.

CHAPTER 31

Two weeks later, a lovely service was held for Mercer, who was buried in the Lorillard plot next to his grandfather. Daniella had requested that his horse Dixie Do be at the service, along with the entire pack of The Jefferson Hunt.

Gray held Dixie’s reins. Mercer’s tack glowed, the run-up stirrups gleamed. The hounds sat silent as stone, with Shaker on foot, in livery, at their head.