Stage Fright / Goodbye, Sweet Prince / Brotherly Love

by Catherine Marshall

  Lundy shrugged. “Doc and me crossed paths up yonder on the ridge. Said he’d give me a ride.”

  “Lundy has something he wants to give to Prince,” the doctor explained. He pointed to the burlap sack Lundy had hoisted over his shoulder.

  Lundy grimaced. He was a dark, hulking young man with a threatening swagger. Christy had always been a little bit afraid of him, although she tried not to show it. But today, strangely enough, Lundy seemed almost shy.

  “Ain’t nothin’ much,” Lundy said.

  “Figures,” muttered Ruby Mae. Like most of Christy’s students, she wasn’t exactly fond of the bully.

  “Well, we’d better call Prince over here,”

  David said. “You know how he loves gifts.”

  He let out a shrill whistle. Instantly, Prince swung around and trotted over to the fence. Lundy reached up and scratched the stallion’s nose. “Hey, ol’ Prince. Looky here. I brung you somethin’. On account o’ your goin’ away and all.”

  Ruby Mae looked a little annoyed. “We already done all the presents at his birthday party, Lundy.”

  “This is different,” Lundy said, his eyes locked on Prince. “This is . . . special. He ain’t just yours, Ruby Mae Morrison.”

  Lundy reached into the burlap sack and pulled out a simple, homely bridle. He held it out and Prince sniffed at it happily.

  “I made it outa some deer hide I was a-savin’. Pa said I was a fool to waste it.” Lundy hesitated. “Whopped me good over it, truth to tell.”

  Christy winced. Lundy’s father, Bird’s-Eye, had a notorious bad temper.

  “It’s beautiful, Lundy,” she said.

  “No, it ain’t,” Lundy replied matter-

  “No, it ain’t,” Lundy replied matter-of-factly. “I ain’t much for makin’ things. But the leather’s soft as it comes. It’ll feel nice on his face. And see? I cut his name into the leather.”

  He held up the bridle. Sure enough, he’d crudely carved letters into the leather:

  PRINS

  Christy saw Ruby Mae open her mouth to speak. She knew what was coming next— some nasty comment about the bridle, or the fact that Lundy did so poorly in school. Goodness knew that Lundy deserved the wrath of his fellow students, as much as he’d bullied them all. Still, Christy couldn’t help cringing as she waited for the hurtful remark.

  “It’s . . .” Ruby Mae’s gaze darted from Lundy to Prince and back again. Lundy touched the stallion’s nose, his eyes filled with tears.

  Ruby Mae took a deep breath. “It’s a wondrous bridle, Lundy,” she said softly. “Prince’ll be mighty proud to wear it, I reckon.”

  “Thanks, Ruby Mae,” Lundy whispered.

  Ruby Mae hopped over the fence and gestured for Lundy to follow. “Come on. I’ll help you put it on him. He’ll be the finest horse for sure at the auction.” She shook her head. “Much as it hurts me to say so.”

  Four

  It’s such a shame, havin’ to sell that fine animal. But I’m sure you’ll get yourselves a fair price,” said Mrs. Tatum, the owner of the boarding house in El Pano.

  It was Saturday morning. Christy, Ruby Mae, and David had spent the night in Mrs. Tatum’s Victorian frame house. It was the same place Christy had stayed when she had first come to Tennessee some months ago.

  “I want to thank you again for taking us in, Mrs. Tatum,” David said, “and I promise you that as soon as we sell Prince, we’ll pay you for our rooms.”

  “Nonsense,” said the tall, big-boned woman. “I wouldn’t hear of it. Me, take money from a man of the cloth and a fine teacher like Miss Huddleston? Not likely.” She slipped a basket over Ruby Mae’s arm. “Now, there’s plenty of my famous spareribs and pickled beans in here to keep you goin’.”

  “Mrs. Tatum, you’re too kind,” Christy said.

  “I’m just glad to see you’ve survived in Cutter Gap.” Mrs. Tatum smiled at David. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t think this mite of a gal, all of nineteen years, would last a week in that out-of-the-way place. It’s a miracle, I tell you.”

  “Christy’s tougher than she looks, believe me,” David said fondly.

  “Well, I guess you’d best be gettin’ on. The auction barn’s about a quarter mile down yonder. You can’t miss it. There’ll be folks comin’ from miles around. Most of them are just there to watch, not to buy. There’s maybe half a dozen big spenders. And ’course, there’s Mr. Jared Collins.”

  “Who’s he?” Ruby Mae asked.

  “Just the richest man in these here parts. Owns Great Oak Farm, and makes most of his money buyin’ and sellin’ horses. He’s quite the fancy gentleman. You can’t miss him. Just look for the golden riding crop. He carries it everywhere with him.”

  David and Christy set off toward the auction barn, with Ruby Mae astride Prince. Mrs. Tatum had been right. The barn was easy to find. A steady stream of people were heading in that direction.

  “You know,” Ruby Mae said, “I was just thinkin’. This’ll be the last time I ride Prince, forever and ever.” She cast a desperate look at David. “Preacher, you sure there ain’t some other way?”

  “I’m sure, Ruby Mae.”

  She gave a resigned nod and said nothing more until they reached the auction site.

  The auction barn was bustling with activity. It smelled of hay and leather and horse. The center was ringed off, and around the ring were bleachers where observers and bidders could watch the horses come and go. Most of the people there looked like simple farmers, dressed in plain clothes or overalls. But a few, as Mrs. Tatum had predicted, looked very well-to-do.

  David went to talk to one of the auctioneers. He returned a few minutes later. “We’re supposed to take Prince to stall number one,” he explained. “The bidders will come by to take a look at him before the actual auction takes place.”

  “Then what?” Ruby Mae asked.

  “Then we wait for his number to be called, and they’ll lead him into the center ring for the bidding. Since he’s number one, he’ll probably be the first horse out.”

  The stalls were located on the far side of the barn. Ruby Mae led Prince into the stall marked “one.” Next door, a young boy was busily brushing the mane of a dapple gray mare.

  When he saw Prince, he let out a low whistle. “Whoa. He’s bound to fetch a pretty penny,” he said.

  Ruby Mae didn’t answer. The boy held out his brush. “Want to clean him up? He’ll get a better bid if’n he’s lookin’ shiny.”

  “Prince don’t need no brush,” Ruby Mae said. “He’s already plenty beautiful.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Down the aisle came prospective buyers, one by one. All of them, it seemed, stopped to admire Prince.

  The first was a tall man with small, black eyes. He was accompanied by a shorter, grizzled-looking companion.

  “My name’s Lyle Duster,” the tall man said. “This here’s my brother Ed.” Ed coughed softly and stared at the ground. Lyle eyed Prince appreciatively.

  “Nice piece o’ horseflesh,” he muttered.

  “Mr. Duster, Prince ain’t no horseflesh,” Ruby Mae replied angrily. “He’s a fine animal who just happens to be my friend.”

  Mr. Duster ignored her.

  “An animal like that would do for all our farm work. He’s plenty strong to do all the plowin’ and run races on weekends, as well.”

  Ed nodded mutely. David cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but Prince is only for sale to an owner who won’t overwork him. We love him too much to let him work seven days a week.”

  Lyle Duster spat rudely. “I reckon there’s other ways o’ gettin’ what we want.” Ed laughed softly as they walked away.

  “Them people give me the willies,” Ruby Mae half-whispered to Christy. “Do you reckon they could be thinkin’ of stealin’ Prince?”

  “I certainly hope not,” Christy replied. “It sounds as if those people shouldn’t own a horse.”

  A young couple dressed in Sunday finery stopped ne
xt. “Clean gaits?” the man asked as he knelt to examine Prince’s legs.

  “Oh, he’s a dream to ride,” David replied.

  “If’n you don’t mind usin’ a pillow with your saddle,” Ruby Mae muttered under her breath.

  “Ruby Mae,” Christy scolded when the couple was out of hearing, “there’s no point in saying unkind things about Prince. One way or another, he’s going to be sold today.”

  “I know. It’s just I hate the way they come and go, pokin’ and proddin’ like he’s a piece o’ fruit for sale. He’s a livin’ creature, Miz Christy. He’s got feelings.”

  “Well, how do you think he feels, hearing you say those things about him?”

  “Oh, he don’t mind. He knows I’m on his side.”

  A few minutes later, a tall man with slicked-back hair and a dark mustache paused in front of Prince’s stall. He sported a black riding coat and a satin top hat, and in his hand was a riding crop topped with a gold handle.

  “Miz Tatum told us about you,” Ruby Mae said. “You’re the man with all the horses.”

  “Jared Collins, at your service,” the man said, removing his hat and bowing low.

  “Are you rich?” Ruby Mae asked.

  “Rich? Ah, well, that’s all relative, isn’t it, my dear? Blessed, perhaps. It’s true I do own a few horses. None, I must say, as fine a specimen as this. May I enter the stall?”

  Ruby Mae looked surprised. Until then, no one had even bothered to ask her permission. “I s’pose. But watch yourself. He’s mighty prickly ’round strangers.”

  “And who wouldn’t be?” the man said in a soft, cooing voice as he stepped into the stall. “All this excitement. All these strangers poring over him like a piece of meat.”

  Mr. Collins reached into his pocket and pulled out three lumps of sugar. Prince gobbled them up hungrily.

  “A sweet tooth, like myself,” Mr. Collins said. He smiled at Ruby Mae. “I can tell this horse has been very well cared for. Are you the party responsible?”

  “Well, me and the preacher,” Ruby Mae replied.

  “David Grantland.” David shook the man’s hand. “And this is Miss Christy Huddleston.”

  “A pleasure.” Mr. Collins took another bow, then turned to scratch Prince’s ear.

  “Why, that’s just how Prince likes it,” Ruby Mae observed.

  “He’s a fine stallion. Anyone would be proud to own him.”

  “Do you have a nice place for runnin’?” Ruby Mae asked. “Prince loves to run.”

  “The finest. And the finest food, and the finest trainers . . . and of course, sugar every day.” He paused. “Forgive me if I carry on. It’s just that to me, these animals are more than something I own. They’re a responsibility—a gift.”

  “You’re goin’ to bid on him, then?” Ruby Mae asked.

  “It would be an honor.”

  “And s’posin’ . . .” Ruby Mae faltered, “s’posin’ you bought him. Would you reckon maybe some o’ his old friends could stop by for a visit, now and then?”

  “Anytime,” Mr. Collins responded.

  “You a good rider?”

  “At the risk of sounding immodest,” Mr. Collins said, “I am the finest equestrian in this part of Tennessee.”

  “That’s mighty fine, but what about ridin’?” Ruby Mae demanded. “Me, I can ride Prince bareback over a four-foot fence.”

  Mr. Collins raised a brow. “Such an imaginative girl. How delightful. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must take a look at the other animals here. Although I’m sure there’ll be no comparison to . . . what did you say his name was?”

  “Prince,” Ruby Mae replied.

  “A fitting name.”

  Ruby Mae watched Mr. Collins stride away. “Prince,” she said, “I hate to see you go, boy. But if you have to go, I reckon there’s worse places to end up.”

  Five

  There he is!” Ruby Mae whispered, squeezing Christy’s arm. “It’s Prince.”

  Christy watched as a stable hand led the great stallion into the hay-strewn ring. Prince jerked on his lead rope, then reared up onto his hind legs.

  “A spirited one, this horse is!” cried the auctioneer, a heavy-set man with a thick white mustache. “A fine start to the auction indeed!”

  The crowd murmured appreciatively as Prince circled the ring.

  “He’s afeared somethin’ terrible,” Ruby Mae said. “You can see it in his eyes.”

  “Ruby Mae, maybe we should wait outside,” Christy suggested. “It might be easier—”

  “You can git if’n you want,” Ruby Mae said. “But I want to see who Prince’s new owner’s a-goin’ to be. I owe him that much, I figure.”

  “It looks like Mr. Collins is planning to bid,” David said. “He’s sitting down there in the front row. See?”

  “I sure do hope so,” Ruby Mae said. “At least then we’d be sure Prince would have a good home. You could tell Mr. Collins loves horses. Almost as much as me, I reckon.” She stood, craning her neck to get a better view. “What’s goin’ to happen now, Preacher?”

  “From what I understand, the auctioneer will start the bidding soon. This isn’t a big, formal livestock auction like the one I’ve heard they have in Knoxville. The people who are interested in buying an animal just raise their hands and shout their bids.”

  “We have here a fine Thoroughbred three-year-old,” the auctioneer called out in a rasping voice. “He’s owned by the mission over in Cutter Gap.”

  Prince tossed his head defiantly.

  “Feisty,” the auctioneer added, “but well-trained.”

  Ruby Mae nudged David. “Thanks to you and me,” she said proudly.

  “What do I hear for an opening bid?”

  Several hands shot up, and instantly wild shouting began. The bids flew back and forth so quickly that Christy couldn’t keep track of them.

  “I can’t understand the auction-man,”

  Ruby Mae complained. “He’s cacklin’ faster ’n a mad hen.”

  “Mr. Collins just made another bid,” David said.

  Ruby Mae squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hands together tightly. “Dear God, please let it be Mr. Collins who wins,” she prayed aloud, “so that Prince can have all the sugar he ever wants forever and ever. Amen.”

  She opened one eye. “Was that all right for a prayer, Preacher?”

  Just then, the auctioneer cried, “Sold! To Mr. Jared Collins of Great Oak Farm. Congratulations, Mr. Collins, on a fine purchase.”

  David gave Ruby Mae a hug. “It appears it was an acceptable prayer, Ruby Mae.”

  “You got what you wanted,” Christy said. “Feel a little better?”

  “This ain’t what I want at all,” Ruby Mae replied in a soft voice. “But even if I ain’t happy, at least maybe Prince can be.”

  When the sale was over, Christy and Ruby Mae decided to go back to the stalls to say farewell to Prince.

  “I’ll go on ahead to the cashier and collect the money from Prince’s sale,” David said. “Let’s meet each other outside the main barn.”

  “Sure you don’t want to come?” Christy asked.

  “I’ve already said my goodbyes. It’ll hurt too much to do it again,” David murmured.

  “We’ll just be a few minutes,” Christy promised.

  “The preacher loves that horse more’n I reckoned,” Ruby Mae said as she and Christy made their way through the crowd.

  “Yes, he really does.”

  “I figured . . . I mean, since he was so set on sellin’ Prince and all. . . . Well, I guess I figured he didn’t care ’bout him like some of us do.”

  “David loves that horse as much as you do, Ruby Mae. He’s just trying to do what’s right for the mission.”

  Prince was stomping around in his stall, tossing his head anxiously. When he caught sight of Ruby Mae, he whinnied softly.

  Without another word, Ruby Mae hurried to Prince’s stall. Instantly the big horse calmed.

  “It’s goin’
to be all right, boy,” she soothed. “You’re goin’ to be livin’ in the finest place around. With all the sugar you can eat.”

  “This ’un was yours?” asked a gruff older man carrying a new leather bridle.

  “Yes,” Christy answered. “His name is Prince.”

  “I’m Uriah Wynne.” He gave a terse nod. “Seein’ as you know him, maybe you can get this bridle on him. Swear he nearly bit my head off when I tried.”

  “He’s just nervous,” Ruby Mae said. “Wouldn’t you be, with all these new folks and funny smells?”

  “Here.” The man thrust the bridle into Ruby Mae’s hand. “I’d be much obliged.”

  “But Prince has already got himself a homemade bridle,” Ruby Mae objected.

  The man spit on the ground. “I’m just doin’ what Mr. C said. Gimme a hand, huh?”

  Speaking in low tones to Prince, Ruby Mae quickly removed Lundy’s bridle. She handed it to Christy, then dutifully put on the new one. She was just finishing when Mr. Collins strode up.

  “Cost me more than I bargained for, but he’ll be worth it,” he said, “once we get him under control. He’s a handful, all right.”

  “He’s awful upset,” Ruby Mae said. “Sometimes when he gets like this, it helps if’n you sing ‘Amazing Grace’ to him. And he loves his new blanket.” She pointed to the corner where she’d left the neatly folded blanket. “Me and all my classmates at school, we made it.”

  “It’s certainly . . . colorful. I’ll be sure to keep your advice in mind,” Mr. Collins said, with a cool smile.

  “Mr. Collins, I know this is a great imposition,” Christy said, “but one of my students made this bridle for Prince. It would really mean a lot to me if you could take it with him.”

  “Of course. I’ll hang it near his stall, right next to his brass nameplate.”

  “Thank you so much.” Christy turned to Ruby Mae. “Well, I guess it’s time to go. We can’t delay this forever.”

  “I know.” Ruby Mae rubbed her cheek against Prince’s mane. She whispered something to him that no one else could hear. Then, her head held high, she opened the stall door. “Take good care of him,” she said, her voice choked.