by Olivia Swift
“That man is determined to make sure his descendants and friends are bringing his ponies to the fore,” Magda smiled. “I spoke to him when I was on my own and one of the pictures moved.”
There had been leaflets given out for a week before in the café and the hiking shop. The draw of a local hero who had started the Jonesville charity pulled in quite a few people and the horse folk were looking at the pictures as well. The group of them were satisfied that it was going well.
Sam and Declan left. Branston and Merle arrived to see the display and Shelby came back to be there if he was needed.
In fact, he was not actually mobbed but there were a good number of customers who were buying prints and happy to talk horses and history with him. Magda put a coffee on his table and left him to it. She could tell that he was truly amazed at the interest and one of the prints was already sold.
Merle was playing with her little friend Samantha and Branston was grinning with news to impart.
“The Ryder-James family has invited all of us over on Sunday to meet and compare notes. They have quite a big setup, I gather, and they have,” he paused, “painted ponies.”
“Wow, that’s fabulous,” Magda said.
“They said if we would like a light lunch, they would be glad to see us all about one o’clock.”
“So, who is going?” Merle asked.
“The eight of us plus Bart, Shelby, Chloe, and Diana. That means twelve of us descending on the poor souls,” Magda said.
“I’ll check with him and make sure it’s okay but I’m sure it will be fine.”
Branston went over to the gallery to see how Shelby was doing and was drawn into a chat that had developed about horses. He never came back, so Merle handed over Samantha and went to find him. They waved goodbye and the café and gallery came to the end of a busier day than Magda had expected. She went to see how Katie was doing. Katie waved a hand and talked into her cell phone.
“She has called Jay to see if he can make twenty more frames. People want the same frames for the prints as the ones on the originals,” Shelby said. “I’m quite aghast at the prices I’ve been offered for those ones.”
“They are quite breathtaking,” Magda told him. “Can you do some more that are almost the same to satisfy people who want an original?”
“I never thought of that. I’ll give it a try.” A customer came and stood to one side to ask if he would sign the prints she had just purchased.”
Chloe and Diana arrived breathless as they had to wait until school was out before they could make it.
The customer thanked Shelby and said that her uncle would be delighted.
“He has painted ponies,” she added.
“Hold on,” Shelby said. “Is he close at hand?” The woman smiled and told him where her uncle lived.
“He’s elderly now and just keeps his older stock to keep in touch with his lifelong hobby.”
“Would he let me see them?” Shelby asked.
“Give me your number,” she said. Katie rolled the pictures and put them in tubes for the customer to take away.
Chloe and Diana were inspecting all of the pictures on the walls.
“Uncle Shelby, you are a genius,” Chloe said.
“It’s been a revelation,” Shelby told her. “The horse stories I have been told about this afternoon would fill a book.”
It was a cheerful group that closed up the gallery. Chloe and Diana heard about the invitation for Sunday and said they would love to go along.
“Hopefully, a séance on Friday evening, if you would like to be there as well,” Rula added. “The concrete floor should be set.”
“Then you get to have a stable for today’s horses. Wonderful,” Chloe said. “I wish I was grown up.”
“Come on, grown up,” her mother said. “Home for dinner.”
Magda locked up and took Samantha home. She had some leftover food from the café and juggled carrying it and the baby inside only to find Crystal sitting on the floor with books all around her. Her tail was sweeping the floor and the Birman had a serious frown on her face.
“Oh, Crystal. We have just been to work. Why are you angry?” She popped Samantha into her play area and started to look at the books. Sam came home and found her sitting on the floor and frowning. She held up a book.
“Crystal had all of these books on the floor. They’re all crime novels. Like Ocean’s Eleven and other big robberies. There is no working out how her mind operates. She’s happy now that I’ve looked at them.” Magda found the cat treats and the four cats came to be fussed over. She opened the back door and shooed them out into their private covered terrace.
Sam said that he would sort out the meal and Magda changed the baby and prepared Samantha’s food. Sam popped over to the next-door neighbor because he was lending him an electric drill.
“His is broken,” he said. “Back in a minute.”
Magda let the cats back inside and watched Crystal carefully, but the cat sat on a chair without a care in the world, curled her tail around herself and went to sleep.
“Mmm,” Magda said. “You aren’t finished, lady. I know you well.” The cat kept her eyes closed but her tail twitched. “I know you can hear me.”
Sam came back and took his daughter on his knee. She stood up on her sturdy little legs and he stood her on the floor.
“She’s definitely trying to walk,” he said. Samantha sat down with a sudden plop onto the floor.
Crystal jumped up beside the television and sat on the remote control. The volume went up to an ear-splitting decibel. Magda rushed to turn it down again. The man was explaining about a series of bank robberies in the area.
16
At the end of the week, they were all happy with the reaction to the latest art exhibition. Shelby had to make more drawings as quickly as he could, and Katie made prints and wrapped them in clear bags.
“Still got Saturday to go but it’s been a good week,” Katie said. “Thank goodness for next week without any exhibitions. These new drawings from Shelby are lovely though and I’m asking him if we can keep them on display.”
“Drawing from real life painted ponies sure was useful,” Magda said. “The customer and her uncle were really happy to have him draw them.”
“Séance tonight,” Mikey said. “The concrete is dry.”
They closed up and met up again at Rula’s. She was desperate for them all to see the transformation. They all trooped down to the stable and walked about on the smooth, clean new floor.
“What a difference,” Sam said. “We can put the stalls and things in for you sometime next week.”
“The electricity and water are in place,” Mikey said. He dropped some stacked chairs and went back for another few. When all of the chairs were set up, they sat in their circle. Samantha, in her stroller, was inside the circle and Declan gave a smile as he knew the man was waiting in the shadows.
Merle went through her protection routine and Chloe grinned at Declan who nodded.
“Are you there, Cody Jones?” Merle called out and Bart said that he could see an orb moving over the staircase.
“Hello, Uncle Cody,” Chloe said. They all felt a slightly warm breeze touch the tops of their heads.
“Can you see him?” Diana whispered to her daughter. Chloe pointed to where she could see the figure of the cowboy.
“Is your wife with you?” Merle asked and received a slight bang on the wooden stairway.
“Do you approve of the new floor of the stable, Cody?” Rula asked. Another knock. “We have a grey gelding and beautiful mare coming to live here,” she added.
“Maiya has just appeared beside him,” Declan said.
“Hello, Maiya,” Merle said. “We wondered if you knew that we found your great-grandchild. They are still called Ryder and they still have painted ponies. Did you know that?” There was a loud bang.
“Are you happy that we’re going to meet them?” Magda called out and there was an instant knock in reply.
She smiled.
Merle said that it would be lovely for the descendants of the Bentleys and the descendants of the Ryders to meet together after all of these years.
“I think you must have helped us to find our way to do that.” There was a knock on the stairs.
“Did the Bentleys always know that you had moved to Jennington and never said anything?” Sam asked and the knock came again.
“Did you see the paintings?” Katie asked. The knock came almost before she finished speaking.
“Did you like them?” Shelby spoke out. Another knock in reply.
“Are the painted ponies at Jennington descended from your own?” Chloe asked and a beam of light swept across the room and moved around her before going back to the staircase. Then there was a bang on the wooden wall behind her. The sound of a horse nickering sounded behind her as well and both she and Branston whirled around to see if there was something there. Chloe held out a hand.
“You’re beautiful,” she said to the horse that only she and Declan could see.
“Tell us what you see,” Branston asked and she said it was a mare and a painted pony about the same size as Merlin.
“I wish I knew your name, little one,” she said.
“Dreamer,” Merle said. “That’s what just came into my head.”
Chloe smiled. “Hello, Dreamer. We might see your great-great-great-grandchildren on Sunday.” There was a knock from the staircase.
“Cody seems to think so,” Declan said. “He’s nodding and holding Maiya’s hand.”
“Branston and I are riding in an exhibition at the rodeo,” the girl told thin air and Declan said that it was the first time that Cody had shown signs of not being happy.
“Is there something wrong?” Merle asked and there was a slight knock from the stairs. “He seemed to be telling you both to be careful,” Merle added. “At least that is the thought coming into my head.”
“His power is fading now,” Declan said.
Chloe went to the staircase and reached out her hands.
“I’ll be careful,” she said and then came back to her mom. “They’ve gone.” There were tears on her cheeks and she looked to where Dreamer had been. “That pony was more beautiful than you can imagine.”
Diana wrapped her daughter in her arms.
“If we can find stock at Jennington, maybe we can do what Cody did all of those years ago,” Branston said and looked at Merle. She nodded.
“We would like to try, Chloe, and we would like you to be part of it,” Merle added.
“Oh, yes please, yes please,” the girl said and burst into tears.
Merle talked them all out of the circle and Rula invited them for a drink in the house. Little Samantha had slept through the whole thing.
Sam and Declan said that they would help in the café the next day. They all planned where to meet up and which vehicles to take on Sunday. Diana said she was happy to be a passenger and Shelby offered to take his car.
Rula, Mikey, Sam, and Magda with the little one decided to go together and Branston, Merle, Katie, and Declan said they would take Branston’s big off-roader. There was room for Bart, but he said that he needed his car in case he got a call to cover something.
“I’ve put the wood to one side and found a good priced sink, taps, and draining board for you to use,” Sam told Rula. Mikey said that Rula had ordered hay holders and saddle pegs online.
“Sounds like a lot is happening,” Magda said as they drove home.
The evening passed without any hints from Crystal. Saturday was a really busy day at the gallery. Shelby was astounded by the number of originals he had sold in a week and Katie laughed.
“I know the feeling. It happened to me. We can keep some permanently on display if you would like to do more.”
He took home the originals that he had said were not for sale and left the prints at the gallery. They were all excited about the next day’s outing and met in a parking lot on the edge of town. Magda had changed her mind and the baby was having a day with Great-Aunt Alison.
Branston led the way as he had the directions and the cavalcade set off.
It was about an hour’s drive away.
“In Cody Jones’ day, this would have taken a lot longer. I guess they thought it was well out of the way,” Magda said.
The scenery was pretty, and the weather was kind. Branston turned off the highway and followed his instructions. They had not reached Jennington township. The Ryder-James place was slightly out of town.
It turned out to be a considerable-sized modern house with a smaller, older property alongside. There were pretty gardens, pots of flowers on the porch steps, and three people looking out for them. Branston was out of the vehicle and striding over to the man who looked to be in his forties. They shook hands and gave each other a brief shoulder hug as the others came up and all of the introductions were made.
“Come inside,” the wife of the man said. She said to call her Clara. The younger member of the group was a seventeen-year-old boy. He held back until he was introduced properly and shook hands with everyone. The lad was of a slender build with the long, black hair that came from his native heritage. Clara said that she was sure they wanted to talk and see the ponies, but a buffet was laid out if they would like to eat as well.
“I won’t remember all of your names but please help yourselves.”
Gladman Ryder-James told them that he had stopped riding because of a bad back.
“Gladdie here,” he said, desperately wanted to carry on with the horses and riding, so I’m a stable hand now.
“I know what you are thinking, my being called Gladdie,” the young man said with a half-smile, “but it’s better than Gladys which is what my friends call me.” There was a ripple of laughter.
17
“Gladman, the name, seems to have been handed down,” Branston said. “Should we tell you what we found out and then you can fill in the gaps?” The three Ryder-Jameses nodded. Branston started the story and then Magda, Rula and Merle took over and filled in. The three listeners looked from one to the other.
“You have these séances all the time?” Clara queried.
“We love doing it,” Magda said. “Rula thought she saw a cowboy out of the corner of her eye on the old staircase in the stable.”
“Then Shelby arrived at the gallery with a picture of the staircase as if he had actually been there,” Katie added. “He had painted a cowboy that he saw in dreams as well.”
“Have you got the picture?” Gladman asked and Katie took out her tablet, flicked to the cowboy one and handed it over. The man actually gasped and passed it to his son.
“It’s him,” Gladdie said and went to find a box of old photos. He took out a very old one that was crinkled and battered but the face that looked out of it was Cody Jones.
“Oh, Lord,” Rula said. “It really is him in our stable.”
“We tried to find out about him, but Shelby’s family had kept the secret so well that we ran up against a dead end,” Merle told them.
“Best friends. They stayed that way,” Shelby said. “I’m so glad.”
“So, what was the real story behind Cody Jones or Goodie Ryder?” Branston asked with curiosity.
Gladman took a breath and told them the story.
“Cody Jones and his friend had bred beautiful horses of all sorts and trained them to work well. Cody loved the painted ponies he saw when he met Maiya and went to see her people. They had to be very careful because there was still a lot of enmity against Native Americans even in the twentieth century.” He paused. “There was one man apparently who caused a lot of gossip. He made it very difficult for them to carry on the business, so they were struggling for money.”
“That’s when they sold the ranch?” Shelby asked. The older man nodded and carried on.
“What was he called?” Chloe spoke up.
“Delongis, Carl Delongis. His family had founded a goldmining town, made lots of money and he was treated li
ke a town elder. He made sure that there were people in saloons and places where folk gossip so that they could hear that Cody had killed Maiya and the bones that were dragged from the river were hers.”
“But she was alive,” Chloe said. “Could they not see that?”
“Cody and Maiya were threatened with a lot of awful things if they came into town and, to save Maiya, they went to stay with her people.” Gladman looked around. “In fact, they liked the life there and Cody was made welcome. The Bentleys knew where he was, and I think they sometimes met secretly.”
“There were cushions and fabric handed down with the native designs on them and they were from this area,” Chloe said.
“Maiya’s family was very protective of Cody and he changed his name. They married and had children. We’re the generations that followed. My dad went into timber and made enough money for us to still keep the horses that we wanted. Gladdie here loves his riding.”
“Goodie, as he became, was the most fabulous horse rider and loved to breed them. The tribe thought that he was some sort of genius at that,” Gladdie joined in.
“And he was,” Chloe added.
The lad nodded.
“He sold some of the stock and not just the painted ones.”
“The man who was friendly with the Bentleys told us that the best stock around was still descended from the Cody Jones and Bentley stock,” Magda said.
“Come and see them,” Gladman invited.
“Thought you’d never ask,” Branston grinned.
“It’s amazing that the feel for riding and breeding has come down on both sides,” Branston remarked. “Chloe here is the best young rider I have ever seen.”
She waved a hand and denied it. “I just practice a lot,” she said.
Branston smiled. “We’re doing a display at the local rodeo.”
“I did enter,” Gladdie said.
As they walked to the stables, Bart asked what happened to Delongis. He was flicking through his tablet and checking files.
