Taking the Reins

by Carolyn McSparren

“You’re one heck of a drover, young man, to be able to handle that,” Colin said. “And my brother is an ignoramus who nearly got us all killed. Ian, get your sorry self down this trail and help us back up these mares.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jake said, looking at the two mares, who now stood quietly waiting to be rescued.

  “Sorry? You did great. Shoot, I’ll hire you anytime,” Colin said, then glared at Ian. “You ever pull a stunt like that again, baby brother, and I am going to be a man short on this crew as of that moment, do I make myself clear?”

  “Uh-huh. Y’all, I’m sorry. I thought sure that branch would hold me.” Even bigger than Aidan, Colin Campbell’s “baby brother” stood six foot seven and managed to stuff well over three hundred pounds of muscle and fat into his dirty bib overalls. He ducked his head and grinned sheepishly. “Nobody got hurt, though.”

  “Except for the scrapes on the mares and me and Charlie’s hide,” Colin said. “Might have busted her head and their backs. Back ’em up, Jake.”

  “Won’t you take over?” Jake asked.

  “Heck no. Go on.” The mares obligingly backed away from the tree, and Jake headed them down the hill again.

  At that point a small man trudged up toward them. “What the Sam Hill happened up here? The first log’s chained up and ready to pull.”

  After explanations and introductions, Miles led them to the waiting log.

  The oak they had harvested was still solid and healthy, but from the radius of the trunk, it would only have had a few more good years before it was claimed by disease or weather. As it was, the price of the timber would be a windfall for the farmer who owned the land without hurting the forest in which it had stood.

  Miles Campbell was completely unlike either Colin or Ian, both of whom were big men. He was no taller than Charlie, whip thin and moved like a panther among the branches.

  “Jake, how about you turn the girls around and back ’em up to the log so we can attach the chains,” Colin said.

  Jake handled the mares well and had them facing up the hill with less effort than Charlie required to turn Pindar.

  “Said you’d done some logging?” Colin asked Sean. “Know how to chain a log?”

  “Not to a horse, I don’t.”

  “Come on, I’ll show you. This’ll take a minute,” he said to the others. “Why don’t y’all find a log to rest on. Don’t sit on a copperhead or a fire ant nest.”

  Ian guffawed and leaned his bulk against a smaller oak.

  The chains were attached to the horses in fewer than two minutes. At Colin’s signal, Jake moved the horses forward until the chains tightened.

  “They know the way to the road. Send ’em on,” Colin said.

  Jake nodded and flicked the reins against their broad backs.

  They hunkered down, drove forward with their shoulders and dropped their rear ends. For a second the log didn’t move, then it began to slide up the trail behind them as if it were on rails.

  “Don’t get behind that log now,” Colin said. “Sometimes it’ll come loose and slide backward or bounce over to the side. Roll right over you.” Mary Anne squeaked and slipped behind Sean.

  “That is something to see,” Hank said. “How come Jake gets to handle the mares?”

  “He already knows how,” Charlie said. “He used to plow with horses when he was growing up. I assumed you knew that.”

  “Don’t know a thing about him except he’s weird,” Hank said. “Heard some rumors that he got a bunch of guys killed in-country.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Sean said. “There were some men killed, but it wasn’t his fault. Drop it.”

  “All right, all right.” Hank held up his hands. “I’m just sayin...”

  “Well, don’t. Mary Anne, what say we follow that log to the road, watch ’em load and drink a soda out of the cooler.”

  Mary Anne nodded and followed. Sean held her hand to steady her when her feet slid in the mud.

  Charlie followed Hank and Colin.

  “I’d hire Jake tomorrow,” Colin whispered to Charlie. “Miles wants to get out of the woods and into the office to handle the paperwork. I said he could as soon as we found somebody to take his place.”

  Charlie felt her breath catch in her throat. Wasn’t this what she and the colonel wanted? Good jobs for their students? But not Jake. Not yet. She couldn’t face the hole he’d leave in her life.

  Wouldn’t it be better to lose him now before she cared too much? Or was it already too late. “Jake’s not ready. I have no idea whether he can handle a chain saw.”

  “Fine, but I got first dibs.”

  The operation of loading the giant log onto the flatbed required pulling it alongside, unhitching the mares, moving them to the far side and rehitching them so that they could roll the log up the ramps set along the side of the flatbed. Jake stood back and let Colin and Ian handle that part. Colin used the long metal peavey hook to lever the log straight, then the mares took over. Again, they needed no instruction. They hauled until the log slid onto the flatbed, then relaxed so that the chains went slack and they could be unhooked.

  “Now, we go back down and do it all over,” Colin said.

  “That is way, way cool,” Mickey said.

  Hank nodded. “True that.”

  It was the first time Charlie could remember that the two men had agreed on anything.

  “It is way, way dangerous,” said Sean. “You ever fell a tree?”

  Both men shook their heads.

  “You’ll get your chance.” Colin clapped Hank on the back. “Right, Charlie?”

  She nodded and said to the others, “They’re coming to our place for your next lesson. We’ve got some dead trees we need to take down before they fall down. You’ll have the chance to fell ’em and load ’em.”

  “When?” Hank asked.

  “We should finish here this afternoon if the rain holds off,” Ian said. “Probably bring the equipment over tomorrow or the next day and sneak in y’all’s little job the first break we get where it’s dry. Most likely a week to ten days.”

  “Great!”

  Hank was actually enthusiastic. It wouldn’t last, Charlie thought. There were no buckle bunnies lusting after axmen. Cutting and hauling logs would not feed his ego.

  Maybe their next expedition would.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “TELL CHARLIE WHAT happened in-country,” Sean said to Jake as they hosed down the big tractor outside the equipment shed. “Charlie likes you and you’re crazy about her.”

  “Which is the best reason not to tell her,” Jake said. “Actually, it’s a good reason for me to go before I do any more harm.”

  “You’ve done some actual decision-making since you’ve been here. The world hasn’t blow up yet.”

  Jake managed a grin. “I’ve been careful.”

  “I’m fed up with that excuse.”

  “It’s not an excuse. It’s true.”

  “So tell her what you believe. Then if you walk out on this chance, on her, at least she’ll know what an idiot you are.”

  “Don’t push me, Sergeant.”

  “That’s what sergeants do, Major. Push dumb officers into doing what they know is right.” He turned the hose full force on Jake.

  “Hey!” Jake’s feet slipped from the sudden force of the high-powered nozzle, and he sat down hard on the concrete.

  Sean didn’t blink. He kept the spray playing full force while Jake ducked and covered.

  “What on earth is going on out here?” came Charlie’s voice.

  “Ask him,” Sean said.

  “He’s trying to drown me,” Jake choked. He struggled to his feet. Two strides of his long legs brought him to Sean. He yanked the hose out of Sean’s hands and turned it back on
him.

  Sean took off at a dead run. Jake aimed the hose at his retreating back and limped after him. By the time they reached the gravel driveway outside the building, the others had seen the water fight and ran over to join in. Even Mickey threw his chair into high gear and threatened to flip over as he bumped across the grass.

  Jake was an equal-opportunity sprayer until Hank grabbed the hose and turned it on Mary Anne, who chased him, took it and turned it on Mickey and Charlie. The water came straight from the well. Even in the summer it was ice-cold.

  The chase deteriorated into shrieks of laughter as everyone tried—not too hard—to avoid getting drenched. Charlie raced around the corner of the barn and ran straight into her father.

  “Uh-oh,” she said.

  “Having fun?”

  “Not any longer.”

  Instantly everyone froze. Mickey, the current owner of the hose, dropped it. It flopped around in a last explosion of water and stretched out on the ground like a deflated snake. Sean picked it up and turned the screw on the nozzle to cut the stream entirely.

  “Don’t let me spoil your fun,” the colonel said.

  But of course he had, even if he hadn’t meant to. If she’d had the hose at the time, Charlie would have sprayed her father first and thought about it later, but the moment passed, and his dignity survived intact.

  “It’s hot,” she said. “We needed cooling off as much as the horses.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I guess everybody should get dry clothes on,” Charlie said.

  “Who started it?” the colonel asked. He wasn’t angry. As a matter of fact, he no doubt regretted interrupting their fun. Still, he might as well carry a sign that read, “Authority Figure, Take Care.”

  “No idea,” Charlie said blandly.

  The colonel’s gaze swept across all the innocent faces. “Right. I came down to tell you that the permits have come through to ride along with the carriages in downtown Memphis.”

  “Dad, I haven’t told them yet.”

  “Oh, sorry. Not my afternoon, obviously.” He stepped back and gave her a sweep of his palm.

  “Okay,” Charlie said. “We’ve received permission for you all to ride along with the carriage drivers who take tourists around downtown Memphis. Happy, Hank?”

  “Yeah! When?”

  “We’re setting the schedule now.”

  “I couldn’t,” Mary Anne said.

  “You won’t be doing the driving, honey bunch,” Hank said.

  “People will stare.”

  “Once you get all your finery on,” Sean told her, “the only kind of stares you’ll get will come from guys who want to hit on you.”

  “That’s worse.”

  “You’re driving with an experienced woman driver who’s six-four and can handle any rowdies without even getting off her box,” Charlie told her.

  “Who’re you driving with, Charlie?” Sean asked.

  “I’ll be back at base camp handling radio communication,” Charlie said. “This is for the students. I’m already a licensed driver.”

  She looked over at Mickey, sunk in his chair.

  “I guess I’ll be with you, right?” he grumbled.

  “The carriages aren’t set up for disabled drivers,” Charlie said.

  Mickey sighed. “I get it.”

  “If you’re game, though, you can put on your leg braces, and we’ll hoist you up on the box beside Walter, who’s even bigger than Gail, Mary Anne’s companion driver. We’ll strap you on. You won’t be able to get down without help, but you should be safe unless the carriage turns over, which is unlikely.”

  “How big is the carriage?” Mickey asked.

  “Very big. It’s a vis-à-vis that holds six comfortably and has a low center of gravity. The colonel will follow in the pickup with your wheelchair in case of an emergency.”

  Mickey sat up and smiled hugely. “Heck, yeah, I’m game. When do we leave?”

  “We’ll have a scrappy supper early, then head for Memphis.”

  She noticed Jake was quiet and hung back when she sent everyone inside to put on dry clothes.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I need to check the kittens.”

  She watched him as he limped up the stairs. Maybe tonight would be too much for him. She tended to forget his bad knee, but she doubted it allowed him to forget the injury for more than a few minutes at a time. They were all tired. She should have put off the arrangements for the drive for another night.

  The thing was, this was a Wednesday night with no special events scheduled down on Beale Street, no baseball games or concerts to ramp up the crowds. It should be a slow night in the city for the carriages, perfect for her students. There was a chance of rain, but it should hold off until two or three in the morning according to the weather forecast.

  She wanted them to have as many different experiences as possible.

  Next week they’d go to the military cemetery to watch an interment.

  They would probably hate that, but it was another way they could make a living driving horses.

  Time for dry clothes, a hot shower and an hour’s nap before Vittorio delivered the sandwiches to the common room.

  Sarah refused to join them for this just as she had for the logging. She preferred to be on the net. Charlie knew she hadn’t been monitoring her use as much as she should, but Sarah had a good head on her shoulders. She had always been trustworthy. No reason she should change now.

  * * *

  ACTUALLY, SARAH WAS BUSY plotting her escape. After their encounter in the sushi restaurant, Robbie Dillon had sent her dozens of emails.

  They were all headed, Erase after reading. But she didn’t. She saved them to her private password-protected file. Not that her mother would try to read them. “That’s like opening someone else’s mail,” her mother told her. “We don’t do that in this family. I trust you.”

  Sarah felt a little guilty not telling her mother about their correspondence, but Charlie would go ape if she knew.

  If she had a cell phone she could text him, Sarah thought, but Marchbanks, her new school, didn’t allow students to carry cell phones. Plus, according to her mother, “We can’t afford another cell phone, and you certainly don’t need one on the farm.” Of course she did need one, but try to tell her mother that. Try to tell her mother anything. Or even find her half the time.

  Sarah sent Robbie a picture of her taken before they moved down here—not in a bathing suit or anything. Her friend Laura had sent her boyfriend a picture and found it a week later on the internet. Sarah might trust Robbie, but she didn’t necessarily trust his friends, whom she hadn’t even met.

  Robbie was okay that she couldn’t date until she was fifteen, and then only in a group. He said they had to keep their relationship secret, though. She definitely understood that. She’d never been part of the in crowd at any school, but with a boyfriend like Robbie, she might be.

  She wished she could talk to Mary Anne, somebody close to her own age. All her friends back at post only wanted to talk about their friends and parties and problems. Now they didn’t even answer half the time. They’d moved on. Sarah hadn’t. Yet.

  She knew her grandfather could be conned into giving her a car for her sixteenth birthday. Until then, she’d have to ride the school bus, which Robbie warned her was not cool. He also warned her not to bring her lunch from home. Much cooler to eat in the cafeteria. With him to guide her, she wouldn’t make stupid kid mistakes.

  Now here was his invitation to a pool party at his house the Saturday afternoon before school started. So in a couple of weeks she’d have a chance to meet some of the crowd from Marchbanks. “Yes!” she said with an arm pump.

  Then she slumped in pure misery. Her mother
would never let her go. She already didn’t like Robbie just because he was a couple of years older than she was and the other people at the party would probably be older, too.

  Charlie would demand to meet Robbie and probably his parents and his uncles and aunts and cousins. Somehow Sarah had to find a way. Then she had an idea. She had seen Jake and her mother together. If he had the hots for her, she could use that.

  She looked at her email, accepted Robbie’s invitation and hit Send.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AFTER AN EARLY DINNER, everyone piled into the farm trucks and drove the beltway to the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge before turning north to the stable. The area didn’t look as though there could be a horse for miles in any direction.

  Urban blight? Plenty of that. But half-hidden in a restored building at the north end of Main Street, the stable housed horses, carriages, workshops, storage for hay and feed and draft horse harnesses in efficient comfort.

  Charlie introduced everyone, and said, “Okay, people, we’re expecting a slow night tonight. No concerts, no baseball or basketball games, nothing unusual downtown on Beale Street.”

  “We hope it’s slow,” said Gail, the head driver, “You never know. Still, it seemed a good time to have y’all drive with us.”

  Hank raised a hand. “Can I wear a top hat?”

  Jerry, the law student with whom he was driving, made a face at him. “I don’t have an extra and you are not borrowing mine.”

  “Yeah, I guess you need all the help you can get,” Hank said with a broad grin. Jerry resembled a young Abraham Lincoln without the beard. “A top hat’s not going to help you much, man.”

  Hank had gone today for the second shave he normally skipped when they were at the farm and he looked gorgeous. The lady customers would jockey for his carriage just to flirt with him.

  “We drivers can refuse to take anyone we consider too drunk or too belligerent or weird or lustful,” Gail said. “You’d be surprised what people try to get up to in the back of an open carriage.”

  “Do we get to watch?” Mickey asked.

  “No way. If we limited ourselves to sober customers, we wouldn’t work so often or get such good tips, although mostly we drive families that want to treat their kids. At some point some macho idiot is probably going to demand a race between two of our carriages. No racing and no betting.”