Рита Браун - Probable Claws

Catherine put her hand on Tulli’s shoulder. He had been watching with tears in his eyes. “Tulli, you’ll need to be in the cabin with him and sleep with him. If he starts to roll, you need to stop him.”

“I am not sleeping with Tulli. He snores,” Jeddie declared while the doctor still wrapped him.

“I do not,” the little fellow defended himself.

“Well then, Ralston, you sleep with him.” Catherine pointed a finger at the lanky young man.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Ralston agreed.

“What about bathing? Can we unwrap him?” Rachel asked.

“Keep this as it is for two weeks. He can’t get it wet or the bandage will tighten and that will be painful. But he can sit in a tub, he’s got one good wing.” The doctor smiled.

“I’m not bathing him.” Ralston grimaced.

“You don’t even wash yourself.” Jeddie was feeling better.

Ralston looked imploringly at Catherine, who smiled at him.

“Ralston and Tulli, go on back to Reynaldo. Give him some treats. He’s had a difficult first race, too.”

Maureen and Jeffrey carefully approached as the doctor finished the wrap.

“My dear, we had nothing to do with this.”

“I know that.” Catherine acknowledged Maureen’s discomfort.

“Obviously, that fellow planned this,” Charles said.

Jeffrey agreed. “Had to. He’ll either run that horse to death, or dismount when he feels safe, take the tack off because he can sell it, slap Black Knight’s hindquarters. A run to freedom, I suspect.”

“Freedom to where?” Maureen grimaced.

“If he reaches New England, he can pass himself off as a freedman.” John finally spoke.

“How would they know? They have slaves. Well, Vermont has but a handful but still, who would believe him if he makes it?” Jeffrey replied.

“I don’t know.” Charles sighed. “He’s young, skilled, bold. If he lives, who is to say?”

“I am so very sorry for this. To think it was one of my people. I shall question DoRe.” Maureen almost wrung her hands, then stopped.

“Maureen, don’t. Please don’t trouble yourself,” Catherine, quick thinking, told her. “DoRe wouldn’t know. William would not have been foolish enough to betray his plan to anyone, but especially not to DoRe, who is faithful to you.”

This was a flat-out lie. DoRe hated her, thanks to her accusing his son of murder, but he never gave evidence of such feelings. Catherine had Bettina in mind. If Maureen bore down on DoRe, she might make it hard for him to come calling at Cloverfields.

“She’s right.” Jeffrey jumped in. “The only thing we can do is post rewards, a description of William as well as a description of Black Knight.”

“Good idea.” Charles nodded, knowing the flyers produced little effect.

Once Maureen and Jeffrey left, Catherine sat next to Jeddie, his arm in a sling. Suddenly she was tired.

“I’ll kill him if I find him. At least Reynaldo isn’t hurt.” Jeddie had a light bandage on his face, the cut deeper than he thought.

“You’ll ride again. I just hope it won’t be like this.” Catherine smiled at him.

“Me, too,” he agreed.

The doctor looked down at Piglet. “My that is a find. You know these bones get dug up frequently. As far as the ocean. Makes creating pastures a bit of work. You all live by the mountains, am I right?”

“We do,” John answered.

“You pick up stones and more stones. From here to the ocean it’s stones and bones. Curious. People have theories. I just bend over and clean it all up. But if I had a dog like this fellow, he could do it.”

“Where are you located, Doctor?” John asked.

The middle-aged man extended his hand. “Alfred McKay. Goochland County. Sam Udall hired me to attend to the races. It’s been quite a day.”

“What happened to the jockey in the second race?”

“Ribs. Usually it’s a broken arm or ribs. Occasionally a leg. When a man falls off a horse his shoulder often hits the ground first. At least I hope it does. If his head hits he’s either dead or confused. Often permanently confused. I’m grateful no one was killed today, no horses, either.” He smiled at Jeddie. “Like I said, young man, bones of iron.” He put his hand on Jeddie’s shoulder. “I have never seen anything like that. Ever.”

“Nor have we,” Charles chimed in, then extended his hand. “Charles West, formerly of His Majesty’s Army.”

“Ah. You saw the error of your ways.” Dr. McKay beamed.

“I did, Sir, and I also saw this beautiful woman. What man would return across the ocean?”

“Indeed,” Dr. McKay agreed.

“John Schuyler.” John held out his large hand.

“Major John Schuyler. Yorktown?” His eyes lit up.

“The same.”

“I am in your debt, Major. We are all in your debt.”

John blushed. “Doctor, I served with good men and I served under Lafayette. God was with us”—he paused—“and the French.”

The men laughed, including Ewing, who had been silent, deeply concerned.

As the doctor left, the Garths started packing up. They would make it halfway home by sundown. Stay at an inn called The Ordinary. As they put tack away, brought out soaps, buckets, the oats they brought so Reynaldo would be eating what he ate at home, DoRe strode over.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“DoRe, if you did know anything, lay low,” Jeddie said.

“I didn’t. He’s a fool. A damned arrogant fool. But I understand his wanting to escape Big Rawly. I do,” DoRe replied.

Jeddie nodded.

Catherine, seeing DoRe, walked over. “Is she hysterical?”

“No, just vicious.”

Catherine nodded. “You know she’ll offer your stable help money to rat on one another?”

“She will, but I’ll give William credit, he kept his cards close to his chest. I hate what he did to Jeddie and I hope he doesn’t kill Black Knight, a good horse, but I can’t fault him for running.”

Catherine leveled her luminous eyes at him. “Do you hope he makes it?” When DoRe sensibly did not reply, she did to her own question. “I hope he does, even though I share the same anger you do. He could have killed Jeddie.”

“I’m tougher than that.”

“Of course you are.” She turned to Jeddie, pale, still sitting on the trunk, his arm in a sling.

Races finished, money settled up, the Garths headed west. Piglet sat in the phaeton with Charles and Rachel. He would not relinquish his giant bone.

Catherine, John, and Ewing rested in the four-in-hand coach. Jeddie refused to sit in it even though asked. He sat with Barker O. while Ralston and Tulli perched behind them holding onto the low rail.

What a day.

37

February 13, 2017

Monday

Pirate, his handsome head on his two huge forepaws, watched at the back entrance to Tazio’s studio, formerly Gary’s. Beginning to feel part of the group, he played with Tucker, sometimes with Mrs. Murphy, but gave Pewter a wide berth. Observing her he, young though he was, knew this was the right decision. The gray cat, immobile, stayed at the small opening under the baseboard.

“Give it up.” Mrs. Murphy sighed.

“No. I’m keeping her at bay.”

“She might not even be in there.” Tucker lay next to Pirate.

“I’m not taking chances.” Pewter sounded tough.

“If she were in there you’d see eight eyes, red from the reflected light,” Mrs. Murphy told her.

“I don’t know how big her nest is. It could run the entire way along the baseboard. She’s a monster. A prehistoric spider.”