by J A Whiting
Mae could hardly speak. "Well, I do have a black horse, but I need another one," she finally managed to say. "And you’re right, the family did ask me to drive at the funeral. How did you know?"
Wes frowned, still standing in front of the horse. "Not hard to figure. You mentioned Greene the minute you got here. The old man liked horses and he'd just ridden in your carriage. It was practically the last thing he ever did. Then you come out here looking to buy a black horse that's already broke to drive. I just put two and two together."
Mae glanced back at Ross, who had a very concerned look on his face. Mae took a few steps towards the horse. "Wes, Meteor won't only be doing funerals," she said. "He'll be doing all the other things my company does, weddings, parties, proms, all kinds of special events. He'll be doing lots of different things."
"But the first thing my horse is going to do is pull that old man's funeral wagon."
All three of them stood in shocked silence for a moment. Mae had no idea what she should do or say, and was very glad when Mr. Duncan opened another stall door and walked out into the aisle, leading a big black mare who looked to be ready to have a foal at any moment.
"Wes, the horse belongs to Mrs. Monahan now," said Mr. Duncan. "It's up to her what kind of work he does."
"Sure. He's hers now." Wes led Meteor into the stall, took off the halter, and stepped out again.
"Besides," Mr. Duncan went on. "You knew Col. Greene. You served under him for months. It's an honor for this horse to be part of his funeral ceremony. Nothing wrong with that."
"I think it will mean a lot to the family," Mae said to Wes, as gently as she could. "It was something they asked me to do. I'm just trying to help them with his last wishes."
Wes pushed the stall door shut. "Oh, I'm sure they want him to get the whole show," he said, his voice bitter. "Playing Taps. The folded flag. The twenty-one-gun salute. All of it. It's a real big honor for the very biggest of big shots. I just wish it was any other horse but this one for Greene."
The springtime dawn was soft and grey and damp. Mae struggled a bit as she wrestled a hundred-pound bale of straw onto the dolly, but finally got it into place. Then she pushed the dolly out of the hay barn, across the open grassy field, past the riding ring, and into the main barn.
"I would've got that," said Ross, as he walked out of the empty stall he'd been preparing. "It's heavy. That field is just mud."
"Oh, it's no trouble," said Mae, catching her breath as she halted the dolly beside the open stall door. "I've got to stay in shape to drive this new horse. I think he's going to be a little stronger in the bridle than my other horses."
"He is," said Ross. "They called and they're on their way. Be here in half an hour or so."
"Oh, good. I'd better get this ready for him." Mae rolled the dolly into the stall, pitched it forward, and let the heavy bale of straw fall hard to the bare dirt floor.
"Here," said Ross, handing her a pair of wire cutters.
"Thanks. I always forget to get them first." She took the cutters, clipped the wires that held the bale tightly together, and let it fall apart. Ross took the clippers back and then went on hammering the new water bucket holder into place.
Mae glanced at him as she began shaking out the pressed flakes of straw into a fluffy bed on the stall floor. "I guess we'll have to call your friend Joe pretty soon," she said. "Once the new horse settles in, he's going to need some bagpipe training pretty fast. It was nice of him to offer to help us out."
Ross just nodded and picked up the hammer again. "Already called him. He'll get back to me."
"That would be great." She glanced up at him for a moment, and decided to take a chance. "So, you said you met Joe when you first moved out here?"
"No," he said, picking up the large bucket from the floor and setting it inside the holder. "It was when I came out here to look at some property."
"Oh, yes, that's right," said Mae, even though she remembered him saying that perfectly well. She pulled out a few more flakes of straw. "You talked to Joe because he was with the Dublin Police Department. They didn't have any job openings at the moment, but he did offer to show you around out here."
"That's right."
"I guess I'm a little surprised you wanted to leave Texas," she said, sneaking another quick glance at him. "But sometimes a person just wants a change of scene. Did you get tired of Texas?"
"No," he said again. "Texas got tired of me."
She paused at that. Ross was silent again, working diligently on placing the water bucket exactly right. Then, to Mae's surprise, he went on talking.
"I started out young as a working cowboy on a ranch near Dallas. Later on, after a little schooling and a few years as a deputy, I got to be sheriff out in Somervell County, Texas. Little town called Glen Rose, southwest of Fort Worth.
"I got married. It was all right for a while, but we didn't really have much in common. She was a city girl at heart while I could never leave the countryside. Eventually, she got what she wanted. She left me for some man in the city."
Mae closed her eyes.
"After that, I didn't want to stay around there any longer. Thought I might go somewhere and start over. I looked for a place I knew nothing about. A place that seemed about as unremarkable as anywhere in the nation."
"And you chose central Ohio." Mae could not help but grin.
He shrugged. "It seemed to be a place where I could disappear. Start again. Lead a quiet life. I came out first to see a small farm up in Dublin. That was how I met Joe Burke. That place was sold by the time I got there, but Joe helped me find this one."
"Well, I'm sure glad you did. This is the ideal setup for me."
He nodded. "It's not too much work just taking care of mostly retired horses. I don't have owners coming out trying to ride every day. Nice and quiet."
"Until I came along," said Mae, with a laugh. "And as of today, I'll have six horses, four carriages, and a training cart."
"Wouldn't want it to be too dull around here," he said, and left the stall to take care of yet another task.
Mae continued pulling the straw flakes apart and preparing the stall. She knew it was very rare for Ross to talk about himself, but she had learned a great deal in just a few minutes. She'd been vaguely aware that he was a retired lawman of some sort, but did not know that he had been married and divorced… or that his wife had left him for someone new.
Caring for horses was a fine life, but Mae had a feeling that Ross was not entirely ready to retire himself. He did seem to enjoy going to events with her, especially now that he was driving one of the carriages at some of them. And he had seemed to like driving Meteor very much. Maybe….
She looked up at the sound of tires out on the gravel driveway.
He's here!
8
At the sound of the truck and trailer pulling in, Mick and Mack came trotting in to see who had arrived, but the man never even got out of his truck. As soon as Mae had signed for the delivery, Ross walked around to the back of the trailer and opened it up.
"Move, dogs." They did, and watched with great interest as the big black horse backed out of the trailer with only a little hesitation and was taken straight to his new quarters.
After loudly greeting all of the other horses in the barn, he seemed to enjoy his new stall, right near Steel, Copper, Silver, and Star so he could get acquainted with them … and he promptly got down and rolled in the fresh bed of straw.
"Well, he seems happy enough," said Mae, as the truck pulled out of the driveway. "I hope he'll like it here."
"What's his name? Meteor?" asked Ross, not sounding too impressed.
"That's what they said. But I'm not sure it suits him, either. Let me see, we've got Goldie, Silver, Steel, Copper, and Star. His name really should be Iron, a black metal, but that's not any better."
"A meteor is made of iron," said Ross.
"That's right. It sure is," said Mae. "And another name for a meteor is a fireball."
&nb
sp; "Fireball, then.”
"I like it."
He nodded. "Should try him out soon. Like today. Weather's good now, but storms are moving in tomorrow."
Mae glanced at the big horse, who was getting back to his feet and having a thorough shake after rolling in the straw. "No time like the present. I could really use some breakfast first, though. I'll run out and get something for both of us."
"Sure. I like those sandwiches with the extra sausage."
"And coffee?"
"Always coffee."
"Of course. I'll be right back."
Mae walked out to her truck, feeling as though Ross had done her a very real honor. She knew he rarely spoke about his personal life to anyone at all, and she was pleased that he had trusted her enough to open up a little.
Darn. I should have asked him whether he wanted hash browns or not. Guess I'll bring them anyway.
When Mae returned with their breakfast, Ross got out the white plastic chairs from the tack room and placed them in the barn aisle. After enjoying their sausage sandwiches, hash browns, and coffee, Ross put the chairs away while Mae took her grooming kit out of the tack room and walked over to the stall which held the newly renamed Fireball.
Both dogs had stayed right in front of the new horse's stall as if making sure he did not escape. "So, you think it's all right to drive him now? Even though he just got here?" Mae asked, standing with her hand on the sliding stall door.
"No time like the present," said Ross. "You'll be taking him to all sorts of new places and driving him as soon as you get there. No different from now."
"That's certainly true," Mae agreed, and ordered the two very faithful dogs to move aside. "All right, then. I'll clean him up and then off we go."
The horse seemed glad to see her, as someone he had at least seen before, and it was no trouble to catch him, tie him to a support post, clean out his feet, curry and brush his coat, and comb out his mane and tail with a little baby oil.
He even lowered his head a little so Mae could bridle him, though it would take a little more than that for her to harness him. She led him out into the barn aisle and saw that Ross had already brought out the heavy steel-pipe training cart with the car tires on it.
Ross held the horse while Mae got her heavy plastic milk crate from beside the wall. "Thank goodness for these," she said, setting the crate down next to Fireball. "I'd never get these draft horses groomed or harnessed without something to stand on."
Fireball stood quietly with Ross while Mae made a few trips back and forth to the tack room to get all the pieces of heavy harness and settle them into place. "I don't think he'll be any trouble to work with from the ground," said Ross. "He's the same here as he was at home."
"No trouble at all." Mae stepped down from the crate and put it away. Then she held Fireball while Ross pulled the cart up behind him, lowered the shafts, slid them through the tugs on the harness, and fastened everything into place.
"Good with this, too," said Mae. "I mean, we saw him at his home barn, but it can be different when a horse is at a whole different place."
"It can. Get in. I'll walk out there with you."
Mae picked up the reins, sat down on the seat of the cart, and swung first one foot and then the other into the footwell.
"Get up, Fireball," she said, and took the four-foot driving whip that Ross handed her as the horse walked forward.
She steered him out through the back door of the barn and into the open field surrounding the riding ring. Mack and Mick followed, for they always loved tagging along with the horses.
Almost right away, Mae could see what Ross meant about this new horse being timid. Most horses would have raised their heads and flagged their tails and been eager to trot off in the cool spring day, out in a nice grassy field, but Fireball barely glanced up and just tried to look down at the ground to see exactly where he was placing his feet.
Make him go forward.
Mae could hear the voices of her former riding instructors, and they were right. When a horse began hesitating and trying to stop, that was when you could run into real trouble. "Get up!" she called sharply, and when he still balked she gave him a smart tap on the rump with the driving whip.
Fireball shot forward like he'd been stung by a bee, but Mae knew not to panic. At least he was moving now and that actually made him easier to steer and control. Using reins, voice, and sometimes a bit of the whip, Mae put the horse through some turns and figures to make him think about his work instead of about scary things. She also made sure he moved at a strong pace the whole time.
By the time she returned, he had settled in and seemed happy enough to have someone take charge and tell him what to do.
"Nice work," said Ross, walking over to her as she halted out in the field. "You told him you were the leader and he felt secure enough to go along with you. That's how it's done."
"Thanks," she said, grinning. "He's really a sweetheart, even if he is a bunny on the inside just like you said. He’s a lot like Star. Just needs a little encouragement sometimes."
"That's right. He learned long ago that people take care of him. As long as he's got some confidence in you, he'll do all right. But don't ever let him down. Make sure you're there for him, no matter what."
"I'll be there for him. I promise."
Suddenly both of the dogs went tearing off across the grass, barking and barking. Ross glanced over his shoulder at the barn and called out, "Dogs! Here!" The two of them immediately returned to his side.
Mae twisted sideways as Fireball moved forward and back a little, and saw a man walking over to them … a man who walked with something of a limp over the thick grass and weeds of the field.
"Oh. Is that– that's Joe!"
It was indeed Joe Burke, Ross's friend and the man who had played bagpipes as one of the Dublin Police Department's pipers.
"Good morning, Mae," he called. Fireball's ears flicked to the new voice and he bobbed his head up and down, but remained still. "Nice to see you again."
"Nice to see you, too, Joe," she said. "Are you carrying what I think you're carrying?"
He laughed. "If you think I've got my pipes with me, you're right. Ross said you'd be trying out your new horse today and I had a little time, so here I am. He is quite the beauty, I don't mind saying."
"Thank you. I think so, too. And I certainly appreciate you coming out to help us with him. I know you play very well and can get Fireball used to anything he might hear."
"Playing doesn't have to be good for this," said Ross. "Just loud."
"Oh, I can do that, too," said Joe, laughing again. "Not a problem. I can't run so much anymore, but I can play the pipes."
"That's all we need," said Mae. She looked a little askance at the bagpipes he carried, remembering that the loud, eerie sound had unnerved even Steel for a moment when they were this close. "Maybe I should take him to the other side of the field before you start playing."
"Mind if I take him for the introduction?" asked Ross.
Mae grinned up at him and started to swing her feet out of the cart. "I will admit that I don't mind at all. I'll just watch and learn, for this one."
Ross took the reins and got into the cart, sending Fireball on his way at a fast walk out past the riding ring. Mick and Mack trotted after him, carrying on their never-ending inspections of the ground and the weeds and the fence posts of the riding ring as they followed along.
When Ross got to the far side of the ring, he turned back and waved to Joe.
Mae closed her eyes tight and took a step back as the pipes began sounding. It was hard not to sympathize with the horses, when something with such a strange noise suddenly started up beside them.
Out across the field, Fireball suddenly froze. He actually crouched down as though he were hiding, and Mae tried not to laugh as Mack and Mick, normally fearless about everything, did pretty much the same and then ran straight for the barn.
But it wasn't so funny when Fireball tried to follow
them, swinging the cart around and trying to get back to the peace and safety of the barn, to a place without the frightening noise of the bagpipes.
But Ross took him well in hand, using both a strong rein and a few smart taps from the whip to make him go where he was supposed to go.
In just a few minutes Fireball was trotting, and then walking, right past Joe even though he was playing the appropriately titled Scotland the Brave on those bagpipes at full volume. Then, as Mae watched in amazement, Ross made the black horse stand still while Joe walked around him in a full circle and continued to play.
"Now, that is something," said Mae, and walked over to Fireball to pet him on the neck. "Very well done!"
"You got any peppermints on you?" asked Ross.
"Always."
"Give Joe a couple. Let him feed them to the horse."
"Good idea." Mae dug in her pocket and took out a couple of small peppermint candies, unwrapped them, and handed them to Joe. "Give him these while you're still holding the pipes. If you do, he'll probably start following you around no matter how loud you play."
Joe did exactly that, and with only a brief hesitation Fireball was happy to get a treat from the man with the bagpipes.
"Think that'll work for the dogs?" asked Mae, glancing back at the barn. Both of them were still hiding inside and peering around the corner, looking anxiously to see if the frightening bagpipes were gone yet.
"I don't know about the dogs, but Fireball seems all right with it," said Joe. "He really is beautiful. He'll look sharp pulling a black carriage, that's for sure."
"I think so, too," said Mae, feeling very proud of her new addition.
"He'll do all right," said Ross. "But never forget that you'll have to re-introduce him to strange things most every time. Just stay in charge."
"Will do," said Mae, and with that all three of them turned and walked back to the barn.
9
Once back inside, Mae and Ross got the horse unhooked and unharnessed. Joe set his bagpipes down on one of the white chairs and watched them work.
