The Legacy (Tipperary Carriage Company Mystery Book 5)

by J A Whiting

  Mae drove Steel while Ross took the reins of the more skittish Copper, but Mae knew he didn’t mind. Ross always seemed to enjoy working with a horse that needed more attention. By the end of the event, the big red-gold horse was working as smoothly as Mae had ever seen him, even when a big group of teenagers in face paint and huge "leprechaun" hats walked past and insisted on surrounding the horse for selfies.

  Ross had looked quite skeptical at that point, but did not object. He was most likely thinking the same thing she was: Just spell 'Tipperary Carriage Company' right when you post that picture on the webpage.

  The week flew by, and before Mae knew it she and Ross were standing in a parking lot and harnessing Steel for the biggest day of Tipperary Carriage Company's existence so far … the St. Patrick's Day Parade in downtown Columbus.

  A few of the committee members had been waiting for her that morning. They had quickly gone to work on the white Landau with thick garlands of white carnations and roses, along with live cuttings of evergreens from someone's yard, and now all of that was wired to the carriage top and the spokes of the wheels. Green and gold satin ribbons were tied into bows all along the garlands.

  It's gorgeous. And nothing beats the scent of fresh roses and carnations.

  Feeling prouder than she ever had in her life, Mae climbed up to the driver's box. She sat down and adjusted her black silk top hat over her shoulder-length hair and straightened her long black coachman's coat. Beside her on the box was Ross, also wearing a long black coat, and a black Stetson.

  Mae sent Steel forward and walked him up the side street to their assigned stepping-off point. The horse's grey-white coat was shining clean and set off by the bright emerald-green ribbon woven down the top of his mane.

  Assembling in front of them now was the very first unit in the parade, the pipers and drummers from the Dublin Police Department.

  They began warming up.

  "I'll stand with the horse," said Ross. "Mostly to keep anyone from bothering him right before we go. I'll get back up here once we're moving out."

  "Sounds good," said Mae, and watched him go stand at Steel's head. Though the parade route itself followed the main street through the downtown, there were plenty of people walking around to get a close-up look at the waiting floats and bands.

  Steel took it all in stride though he seemed happy to have a familiar friend like Ross standing with him during all the confusion.

  Then Mae saw Ross waving at someone up ahead.

  It seemed to be one of the men in the police department group, a man in a kilt and carrying a set of bagpipes. He waved back as he turned around, and it was clear that he and Ross knew each other.

  Good to see that he does have a friend besides the horses and the dogs out at the farm. I know he likes his space and his peace and quiet, but it's not good for anyone to be alone most of the time.

  "Good morning. Is this beautiful carriage my ride for today?"

  Mae turned to see an older man sitting in a wheelchair at the side of the carriage, smiling happily up at her. Standing beside him was a woman who could only have been his wife.

  "Hello." Mae called down to them. "If you’re the parade's Grand Marshal, then we are indeed your ride."

  "That's us," said the man, as he and the woman grinned at one another.

  "Welcome. Please, get in." Then she frowned. "The carriage has a step that folds down, but it's still rather high. Oh, I see you've brought your own."

  It seemed that the committee members had brought a large wooden step with them. Mae glanced up to make sure Ross was holding Steel, and then members of the committee helped Mr. Greene stand up and carefully step into the carriage, followed by his wife.

  "Oh, this is so lovely," said Mrs. Greene, sitting back in the carriage's white seat. "The flowers smell heavenly. Thank you so much, Mrs. Monahan, for doing this. It's wonderful."

  "Thank you for riding with me," said Mae. "And Mrs. Greene, that big bouquet of white roses on the seat across from you is yours to carry today."

  "So beautiful," she said, leaning forward to take the roses and carefully drape the long emerald-green ribbons onto the seat beside her. "Thank you."

  "It's all from the parade committee," said Mae. "I'm just your driver. But I'm thrilled, Col. Greene, to drive the Grand Marshal in the St. Patrick's Day parade."

  "We're both glad to ride with you. Though I'm retired now, of course," said the man. "Haven't officially been a colonel for years."

  "That's true," said his wife. "These days, he's merely a successful local businessman. Once he retired from the army, we started a farm equipment dealership out in Delaware County."

  "That must have been quite a change from the military life," said Mae. "Not nearly as exciting."

  "Well, sometimes enough is enough when it comes to excitement," said the old colonel. "But the dealership proved to be a very fine way to retire. We've been able to help the farmers out there get better tractors and machinery, and make real improvements in their grain and livestock production."

  "Two of our sons run the place now," added his wife. "We're very proud of them and of the business itself. They and their families will always be well taken care of."

  Mae noticed that the family business seemed to mean more to the man than his long military career, but she supposed that was natural. He had been out of the army for a long time and their dealership would have been the most important thing for the last couple of decades.

  I'm sure it was more peaceful than whatever he had to go through in the military… and at least the family could all stay in one place for as long as they liked. They seem to be very good people.

  "That's wonderful," said Mae. "It's so good to be part of the community where you live. I'm hoping to do that, too."

  "Oh, I'm sure you will," said Mrs. Greene. "You must be very busy with weddings and things, especially with such a beautiful horse and carriage."

  Mae grinned back at the woman. "A few weddings, but that will most likely pick up in the summertime. So far it's been mostly street fairs and some private parties. I'm expecting prom nights in May, and I had someone call recently about possibly working with a theater group later in the summer. They’re considering using a real horse-drawn vehicle for a scene in a Shakespeare-in-the-Park event. You just never know in this business."

  The colonel nodded. "I suppose you do funerals as well. Nothing as elegant as a fine horse-drawn carriage for the family to ride in."

  "That's true. And I haven’t done many funerals yet, but I do get a surprising number of calls for them. I just got a new black carriage and I'm looking for a new black horse, since that's what people expect."

  "I see," said Greene, using his cane to sit himself up a little straighter. "Have you found the horse yet?"

  "I've just started looking. I do like a showy horse, but of course the main thing is finding one with the temperament to work out among the public. It can get a little wild out here sometimes."

  "That's certainly true," said Mr. Greene. "And not to forget, that's a beautiful horse you have pulling this carriage. Got a look at him as we rolled up."

  "Thank you. Steel is truly the best horse anyone could have for something like a city parade," said Mae. "He's a Percheron, that's a French breed, but for today, I'm sure he's as Irish as the rest of us."

  "You must be an Irishwoman yourself, Mrs. Monahan," said Mrs. Greene.

  "I did turn out to be very much Irish-American," Mae told them, with a laugh. "I was born here in Franklin County, but my grandfather on my mother's side, his name was James Andrew O’Neill, was born in Clonmel, Tipperary, in Ireland and brought to the United States very young."

  "Oh, my," said Mrs. Greene.

  "He had quite a life. James O'Neill became a detective and ended up leaving me enough money in his will to start the carriage business, which I named the Tipperary Carriage Company in his honor."

  "I'm sure he'd be very proud of you," said Mrs. Greene.

  "Oh, I'd love for h
im to see me now. I think he would have gotten a big kick out of knowing I went into the horse business. And much to my mother's despair, I seemed to have inherited his curiosity about mysteries and trying to figure them out, especially when a wiser person would leave well enough alone."

  Both of her passengers laughed and seemed genuinely amused. "We always did want to visit Ireland, but never did," said Mr. Greene. "The time just gets away from you."

  "Oh, I'm sure you'll have plenty of chances coming up to go," said Mae.

  "Possibly," he replied. "But I've learned that you should not put off the things you really want to do. You never know how much time you really have."

  3

  Up ahead of the carriage and in front of the drum-and-bagpipe corps, what sounded like police whistles started blowing. Steel popped his head up. Ross, still holding the horse, turned to look up at Mae.

  "They're moving out," he called up to her. "Watch him, now."

  Right in front of Steel, the whole crew of bagpipes began sounding up in a low, steady drone. A few of the drummers started a slow beat. The horse raised his head and looked closely at the band with both ears sharply forward, but he stayed right beside Ross.

  Then, all at once, every one of the bagpipes shrieked out in the loud, eerie noise they were famous for. Steel started to rock backwards with all four feet in place, but Ross held onto his bridle and insisted that he stay right where he was.

  Mae kept the reins up and held her whip crossways, ready to tap the horse on the rump in case he needed a little encouragement. But Steel stayed right beside Ross, even as the rest of the drums started a thunderous beat to keep time with the bagpipes and the whole band stepped off to begin the parade.

  Ross continued to hold the horse's bridle, letting the corps open up several yards of space. Then he stepped back, signaled to Mae to let the horse go, and as the carriage moved past he gracefully stepped up onto the hub of the wheel and sat down on the driver's box.

  "Very smooth," said Mae, never taking her eyes off of Steel. "I hope it's all right to keep a little space between us and them. Those pipes are louder than I remember."

  "You're good. If we have to stop, I'll hold him."

  "Works for me." Mae cocked her head back towards her passengers. "Mr. and Mrs. Greene, this is my friend and barn owner Ross Goodnight."

  Ross touched the brim of his Stetson hat to the two of them. "Glad to meet you. I think you'll enjoy the ride."

  As they swung out onto the main street and the crowds began to cheer, Mae wanted to tell them that no one was enjoying this more than she was. Her Irish blood was stirred by the pipes and the drums, and the horse in front of her had never looked better.

  Best of all, even Ross seemed to be enjoying himself. He only stepped down once, about halfway through, when there was some sort of delay up ahead. But there were always holdups in street parades. Mae recalled that even in show ring competitions for parade horses, the participants were all required to halt and stand perfectly still for several seconds during the class.

  As they waited, with the drummers keeping up a low beat while stepping in place, Mae stole a glance back at the colonel and his wife. They seemed to be having a wonderful time smiling and waving to the crowds.

  Yet strangely enough, as she turned to face the front again, Mae caught sight of a few not-so-friendly faces in the crowd. A few people were frowning and holding up handmade signs.

  Go Back Home Greene

  How Many Did You Lose?

  My Brother Never Came Back

  Traitor! Go Home!

  Mae was shocked at the sight. She had no idea that anti-war demonstrations were still happening in this day and age, especially those aimed at a man who had last served in the military more than ten years ago.

  I guess in war, you never forget. You'll want to blame someone whether it's justified or not.

  The parade began to move again, and Ross stepped up onto the carriage as it moved past him. Mae was quite certain she heard the crowd applaud as he did.

  I think he's just showing off. But I'm not going to tell him I know about it.

  When they got to the far end of the parade route, still following the drum and pipe corps who now only played a tapping cadence as they walked along, Mae guided Steel up the side streets and felt like she could finally relax.

  She glanced back at her passengers. "I hope you enjoyed that. I know I certainly did."

  "Wonderful, Mrs. Monahan," said the colonel. "Something we'll never forget."

  "Nearly as good as a trip to Ireland itself," added Mrs. Greene.

  "Say, Velma," said the colonel to his wife. "Do you have a pen and paper in that purse of yours?"

  "Of course I do, Miles," she replied, and searched in her white leather bag.

  "I know of a place that might have a black horse for you, Mrs. Monahan," he said, and took the capped pen and notebook from his wife. "I have a friend whose family owns a farm in Worthington. They've been raising horses for a long time, those Dutch horses, the big black ones. I remember him talking about their black horses. Might be worth giving them a call."

  Mae reached back and took the paper from him. "Thank you. I will."

  Soon they had returned to the starting place where the committee members were waiting with the wheelchair. Ross again stepped down to hold Steel.

  But before either of the Greenes could get out, a sharply dressed tall blond reporter in a bright green dress and a leprechaun hat came hurrying over to the side of the carriage. A cameraman followed her closely, recording everything.

  "Col. Greene. I'm Crystal Walsh of Eyewitness News. Can we have a word?"

  Before the man could even answer, the cameraman had him in focus and the reporter held out her microphone. "How do you feel about being the Grand Marshal when you lost so many men on your final command?"

  Mae turned to frown at the reporter, but the woman paid no attention to anything but her target. "Are you pleased with how that final battle played out?"

  The colonel slid forward on his seat, leaning on his cane. "Young lady, I'm here as a local businessman today. That's all."

  "But you were far more than that. Maybe you can forget what happened during those last missions, but there are many who cannot. Maybe you saw a few of them out there today. Now, please tell our viewers– hey!"

  The carriage abruptly rolled forward and made a sharp turn towards the blond reporter, forcing her and the cameraman to step back. Mae instantly turned to look but saw that Ross had merely led Steel forward.

  "Sorry, ma'am," he said to the reporter, in his fine Texas drawl. "I think the horse was spooked by your hat. We'll be going now." And with that, he got Steel turned around and led him to a quieter spot where the committee could bring up the colonel's wheelchair.

  "I'm so sorry about that," Mae said to the Greenes, as Ross stopped the horse once again. "I didn't know they would be there. I should have looked for a better place to park."

  "Don't give it a thought," Greene said, as he slowly and carefully got down from the carriage. In a moment, he had been helped back to his wheelchair by the waiting committee members. "I've had my run-ins with the press before."

  "You have? Whatever for?"

  He sat down heavily in the wheelchair and tried to smile up at Mae. "The press doesn't much like me out here. Especially that reporter. She says she had a brother who was killed under my command. It was many years ago, but it can be hard to forget something like that."

  Mrs. Greene glanced over at the fleeing newswoman and her camera crew to make sure they were gone, and then stood close behind her husband. "That reporter talks him down every chance she gets. We moved to Delaware County to open the farm equipment store, but since there was no other way to criticize him, Ms. Walsh would find ways to talk about how the colonel never did enough for Columbus and Franklin County."

  Mae shook her head. "I don't understand. What did she think you should be doing?"

  The colonel shrugged. "Nothing, really. She’s hu
rt and angry about her brother. I believe she thought I should do more for the veterans here in Franklin County, even though I do work with them quite a lot. It isn't publicized, so she makes it look like I ignore them."

  "When the truth is he keeps it quiet to protect their privacy and not have it look like he just wants praise," his wife said, with great indignation. "They don't understand anything at all."

  "That's all right, Velma," he said, reaching up and patting her hand. "If it wasn't that, they'd complain about something else because it isn't really about the soldiers lost. Every commander loses troops in wartime. It happens in peacetime, too. It's not a summer picnic. It's war and it's training for war, and it can be hard for people to understand that when they haven't been there themselves."

  "I'm so sorry," Mae said. "You certainly don't deserve to have people treat you like that, especially at an event like this one."

  The old colonel laughed a little and glanced up at his wife as she stood close. "Not everyone these days thinks an old war commander is a hero," he said. "It was different years ago when I was young, before you were even born, but not now. "

  "That's all too true," said Mrs. Greene. "That reporter and a few others who knew my husband when he was a commanding officer have tried more than once to ruin our farm equipment business. But we always stood up to them."

  "And we always will," added the colonel. At the sight of Mae just shaking her head, he smiled. "Please don't worry about it. Such things go with the territory."

  "They do," said his wife. "But right now, Mrs. Monahan, we want to thank you so much for this wonderful, wonderful day. We'll always remember this."

  Col. Greene nodded to Mae, and held his hand up in a wave to Ross. "It was wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Monahan, and Mr. Goodnight as well. I am sure we’ll meet again."

  4

  The following day, the Tipperary Carriage Company made a fine showing at another St. Patrick's Day event at a festival in a small suburban town that really was named Dublin.

  The memory of the previous day's parade only lent to the excitement Mae felt. With two horses and carriages, another day of Irish festivities to look forward to, and a crowd that grew larger by the minute, there was every reason to expect a very good day all around.