All God's Creatures

by Carolyn McSparren

  "Wow," Eli said softly.

  "My lawyer talked me through it. Herb has never contributed much to the bills, although he made the down payment on the house. He probably has a fortune in some Cayman Island account, so I'm not being all that mean to him. He doesn't even own his precious Jaguar. I do."

  Eli caught my eye. Vickie made a lot more money than either of us ever did, but then she did a great deal more grooming and boarding for a much richer clientele.

  Vickie could barely hold her head up during a scrappy supper of U. S. Senate bean soup, a salad and French bread. The minute dinner was over, I sent her off to bed.

  "I should go home," she said.

  "Indeed you will not! New locks or not, Herb could break in and blow you away."

  "He's my husband, Maggie, he wouldn't..."

  "Just like he wouldn't give you a black eye on Thanksgiving last year?" I asked.

  Her eyes widened. "You knew?"

  "You should have had him arrested."

  "I know, but the boys..."

  I blew out my breath. "Go to bed, Vickie. We'll talk tomorrow."

  As I closed her door, I said, "Keep this closed if you don't want three cats in bed with you."

  Ten minutes later Eli and I were eating Angelfood Swiss Chocolate ice cream and drinking decaf in the den. It was barely eight o'clock, but felt like three a.m. We decided Eli and I would mount guard on my house until we were certain Herb wouldn't bash in the front gate.

  As the opening credits for the new A&E mystery rolled, the telephone shrilled. I snatched it up. "McLain. Oh, hi." I hit the switch to turn on the speaker.

  Lanier Polman asked, "Is Vickie with you? I've been calling the house and all I get is the answering machine."

  "She's here and probably asleep by now. She was whipped."

  "Herb called me in a rage looking for her. That's how I know what happened. I can't believe they'd deliver divorce papers on Sunday. I guess they figure they can catch people at home on the weekends."

  "So Herb is looking for her?" Eli asked.

  "Is that Eli? Yeah. He sounds half crazy. One minute he's raging, the next he's blubbering about how sorry he is and how he'll never do it again. As if."

  "Has she ever gone this far before?" Eli asked.

  "Never. When she found out the latest mistress was some twentytwo year old intern at Herb's brokerage house, she told him unless he cut offthe affair quick and clean, she'd kick his butt out. Two weeks ago, the mistress herself called Vickie to ask her to'get out of the way' so she and Herb could be together." Lanier laughed. "So Vickie obliged."

  "I'm glad she's been talking to you," I said. "She hasn't said a word about any of this to Eli and me before tonight."

  "But you're the ones she came to when she needed help," Lanier said. "Your front gate is locked, isn't it?"

  "Absolutely. If Herb drives his Jaguar through, he'll total it," Eli said and took a big spoonful of ice cream.

  'When Geoff and I were divorced, we didn't have a pot to pee in. Vickie's clinic makes one hell of a lot of money. Her lawyer gave her good advice about protecting it from Herb."

  "How do we protect her?" I asked.

  "Tell her she's welcome to stay with Susan and me as long as she likes."

  "She's welcome here as well," I said. "But she ought to be able to live in her own house without worrying she's going to be attacked."

  "I'm sure by tomorrow he'll have calmed down. He'll probably call you too looking for her."

  When the phone rang twenty minutes later, I picked it up, not remembering the speaker was still on.

  "Let me speak to my wife."

  "Good evening, Herb," I said pleasantly.

  "I know she's there."

  "No, you don't, but as a matter of fact she is. She's asleep, and I don't intend to wake her."

  "Goddamit, Dr. McLain, put her on the goddam phone. I can't even get in my own goddam house to get a clean shirt."

  "Can the profanity. Leave me the number at which you can be reached. When Vickie wakes up tomorrow morning I'll give it to her. If she wants to call you, she can. Go buy a shirt and some clean underwear at Wal-Mart. They stay open all night."

  "You can't do this. I'm on my way over there now, and ifyou don't let me speak to her I'll break your goddam door down."

  "Herb, the front gate at the road is closed. I have no intention of punching you in. If you try to break through it, you'll have half the deputies in the county down around your neck, not to mention that pretty Jaguar of yours will be wearing half a ton of wrought iron. If I were you, I'd call my doctor for a prescription of Antibuse and check myself into a rehab facility. At least you'd have a place to sleep tonight." I hung up.

  "My," Eli said. "How forceful you sounded, Big Mama."

  "I wish Morgan were here."

  "You did fine on your own." Eli said.

  "I'm shaking." I went to the kitchen and came back with the loaded Glock.25 that Morgan bought me for my birthday five years earlier. "Just in case Herb really acts a fool," I said, laid the gun on the side table, picked up my bowl of ice cream and turned back to A&E. "Now, what have I missed?"

  Chapter 39

  In which Vickie works with a large animal

  Monday morning Vickie looked a bit better as she downed her third cup of high-test coffee and ate her second sweet roll at my kitchen table.

  "I'm not calling him back," she said when I told her about Herb's call. "I'm not going into the office either. I called the emergency clinic and got a substitute for the day."

  "What happens if Herb shows up?"

  "My secretary is supposed to call nine-one-one." She leaned back and ran her hands through herwonderful red hair. "I'm being a coward, I know. I've got to face him sometime."

  "Well, you can't hide at home and you can't hide here once the front gate is open," I said. "Remember how we talked about seeing how the other halfworked? I'm on myway out for the morning. Come along. You can give me a hand. See how you like the large animal side of veterinary practice after all these years with puppies and kittens."

  Vickie froze. "Horse or cow?"

  "Horse. I've already got the stuff in the car."

  On the drive to Nelly Youngblood's farm, I told Vickie, "It's a simple semen collection. You know how to do those."

  "No I don't. I may have done one or two twenty years ago."

  "Nelly has a maiden Rhinelander mare that hasn't gotten pregnant. She wants to try one more time by inseminating artificially. All we have to do is collect the stallion, and inject the semen into the mare's cervix. Piece of cake."

  Vickie fell silent.

  I felt like a toad for throwing this at her, but it was an excellent chance to see if she could work out as a partner. At McClain-Scheibler she might concentrate on the small animal side, but if she should buy my half of the practice, she'd be expected work with both large and small animals.

  Nelly Youngblood ran a small breeding and training operation with a single Rhinelander stallion. She had five mares of her own and shipped semen all over the United States for people who wanted to use her sire.

  She was only about five foot three, but exuded the generalship of a six foot tall four star general. Her breeding barn was immaculate. I introduced her to Vickie, and handed Vickie my case containing the artificial vagina. Vickie took it as though it contained a nest of scorpions.

  "Just us three, I'm afraid, to do it," Nelly said. "The mare popped her follicle this morning, so we have to do this quick if we intend to catch her."

  "Why artificially inseminate?" Vickie asked.

  "She's hell to breed. She'll tease perfectly to the stallion, then try to kick his head off when he comes down to her."

  "Lovely," Vickie whispered.

  "So I use an old mare who'd stand for gang rape as a jump mare. I've already got both mares scrubbed and tails wrapped, and the stallion scrubbed as well."

  "In school we used padded sawhorse, not a real mare," Vickie whispered as Nelly walked away from th
em down the aisle.

  "Same thing. The stallion jumps her, and when he goes to breed her, you stick the artificial vagina in front of him so he penetrates that and ejaculates."

  "Who, me?"

  "Would you rather handle the stallion? Nelly's going to hold the mare."

  "How big is he?"

  "Nearly eighteen hands high, and broad as a pool table."

  "I'll take the artificial vagina."

  "Thought you'd say that." I pointed to the cylindrical leather case. "I've got it all set up. Just go down to the wash rack, fill it with warm water, and we'll get to it."

  "Why did I let you talk me into this?"

  "Come on, Vickie, you did this stuff once upon a time in vet school. Get over it."

  Vickie squared her shoulders and walked off to fill the AV tube at the washrack while I checked the stallion.

  "This thing is heavy when it's filled," she said. She carried it back to me by its handle like a suitcase. Filled, it wasn't much smaller in diameter than the duffel bag in which it was stored.

  "Okay? You know what to do, right?"

  Vickie nodded, but her eyes were terrified.

  "Bring out the mare, Nelly. Think we ought to tease her to him one more time?"

  "Wouldn't hurt."

  The mare was broad and heavy, but not tall. She walked up to the stallion's stall, turned her back to him, squatted, urinated, and flipped her tail.

  He began to nicker low and seductively. At the same time he bounced around in his stall.

  "Okay," Nelly said and walked the mare up to the front of the stable.

  "Ready or not, here I come," I said. I opened the stallion's door, looped the heavy stainless steel chain of his breeding shank over his nose, gave it a couple of yanks to get his attention, and brought him out.

  Vickie squeaked, but she held the artificial vagina up where she could reach him the minute he mounted his mare.

  He pranced down the aisle nickering. The mare nickered in return.

  When he lifted his body to cover the mare, Vickie closed her eyes and stuck the artificial vagina where he couldn't possibly miss it.

  He gave one loud 'hunh,' dropped to the ground and backed up a dozen paces.

  "What the heck?" I said.

  The mare continued to tease and nicker. Vickie peeked under the stallion's belly. He was still erect and ready, but he adamantly refused to come up to cover the mare. He danced back and forth in total frustration while I held onto the steel shank for dear life.

  "He's never done that before," Nelly said. "Something's the matter."

  "I'll put him back in his stall," I said. "Maybe he's sore. Has he been bred much lately?"

  "No more than usual. I can't understand it," Nelly said. "He's been bred artificially before. Never bothered him."

  "Is it something I did?" Vickie asked in a small voice.

  "Don't see how. You were right in position. He seemed to hit the end of the A-V, stop, then back off."

  "Let me see that thing," I said.

  Vickie handed me the A-V.

  "It's certainly full of water. It ought to be tight enough." I walked over to the washrack. "Let's start from scratch." I unscrewed the cap that held the water in place and turned the AV over to empty it. I couldn't help laughing. "Vickie, what temperature water did you use?"

  "Warm."

  "Not warm enough. It's already down to tepid. He must have thought he'd penetrated an iceberg."

  Nelly began to laugh. "Poor baby. No wonder he backed off. I swear I have never seen such a look of complete consternation on a stallion's face in my life."

  "I'm sorry," Vickie said in a small voice.

  "No big deal. I'll just bring old jasmine back out while you fill that thing with hot water. One thing about stallions, they're ready to go any time there's a receptive female in the neighborhood."

  This time the stallion took his time approaching the mare. He sniffed and nibbled at her hocks, bit her flanks gently, rubbed his neck against her back. A real romantic.

  Then he lifted his body above her head.

  Vickie kept her eyes open this time, and as he came toward the mare she thrust the AV straight at him with grim determination.

  Thirty seconds later his tail flagged and he backed off the mare.

  "Good boy," I said and walked him back to his stall. "Good job, Vickie. You see, you survived."

  On our way back to the clinic, Vickie sat silent. "I really screwed up. It's been much too long since I did that."

  "Don't worry about it. We got it done. The mare's been inseminated and hopefully is in foal. The stallion's happy. The only one who missed out is the jump mare."

  "I know how she feels."

  I glanced over at her.

  "I've spent the last fifteen years of my life being an occasional jump mare. Herb wanted his cookies. He didn't much care whether I got mine or not."

  Sorry.

  "Thank God there are alternatives."

  "Not nearly as much fun."

  "As good sex? Not on your life. As lousy sex? I'll take the alternatives in a heartbeat."

  I'd never made love with anybody but Morgan. I ached for his touch, physically ached. I missed the way he'd casually kiss the nape of my neck as he walked by me in the kitchen, the way I snuggled against his chest in bed. Not only sex, but the warmth of a familiar body, a familiar scent.

  If I did find someone else, I wouldn't be committing adultery, for heaven's sake. But it would feel like a betrayal.

  Even with no basis for comparison I knew there could never be any better sex than we had enjoyed. Still, I refused to admit to Vickie that Morgan had been my one and only. Not cool. Very old-fashioned. "Celibacy is a bitch," I said.

  Chapter 40

  In which Maggie delivers an unusual baby

  Memorial Day weekend, Eli decided to have a party and invite Maggie's Militia and any husband or boyfriend who might be hanging around. I suppose she felt she had something to celebrate because I hadn't mentioned retirement for a couple of weeks.

  Even Shep Fischer decided to drive up from Destin, Florida. He had sold his house in Colonial Acres and moved into a condo in Florida six months earlier.

  Now he spent his days fishing or hanging out in the bars in Destin. Eli tossed her head and said she didn't think he wanted to marry her a bit more than she wanted to marry him.

  "As long as he's involved with me, he can accept all those casseroles and dinner invitations from the widows who are after him and not have to commit to anything."

  I told her I wasn't too sure of that.

  "He's too lazy to get married," Eli replied. "Born rich, got richer. Never hit a lick at a snake."

  I was delighted that Shep drove up for the parry. He was the closest thing I had to a brother and the only male in my life at the moment. I missed him the way Eli missed Morgan.

  The heat had not percolated from simmer to parboil yet, but it was eighty-five degrees, and Eli had brought out fans to keep the air moving.

  By the time I arrived, Shep and Eli had already set up the six-foot picnic table and arranged lawn chairs and chaises longues under the trees.

  "I will never fry another chicken as long as I live," she said to me as I reached for a handful of potato chips.

  "Darlin," Shep answered. "Nobody fries chicken like you."

  Eli lifted on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Bless your heart. Now, go drain the cucumbers, butter the bread, and start making the cucumber sandwiches."

  I set down a big bowl of potato salad beside the chicken.

  "I used that new bowl with the ice around the outside. Wouldn't want to give anybody ptomaine. The ice cream is finished, but still in the beater container. Shep, honey, you got the watermelon iced down?"

  Shep pointed to a large cooler by the back steps. "I must have thumped a dozen of those suckers before I found one that sounded right."

  "I've heard that's an old wives tale," I said. I arranged napkins and paper plates and plastic utensils under cloths whe
re the bugs couldn't get to them.

  "You just wait until you eat it before you doubt my judgment."

  Eli and Shep had moved the big propane bug killer from the horse pasture to her yard. "That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen," Shep said.

  "Hush. It works. I am not getting West Nile or malaria for any old picnic," Eli answered. "Lordy, it is hot."

  "Eli, you keep saying you're going to put in a swimming pool. I wish you'd go ahead and do it," I said.

  "Me, too," Shep said. He dropped a plastic bag of ice on the bricks of Eli's patio to break it apart, then scattered it in the ice chest that held the beer and soft drinks. "Miss Maggie, come on in the kitchen and help me make cucumber sandwiches."

  We worked companionably on Eli's counter and her small kitchen table. Shep buttered the bread, I assembled the sandwiches and cut them into triangles.

  "Why do you care whether Eli puts in a pool?" I asked. "You have the entire ocean."

  "The ocean is filthy these days, hadn't you heard? And full of sharks. I would prefer to go to my grave with all five of my appendages intact."

  "Five? Oh."

  "What's this about your retiring? Gonna come join me in Florida?"

  "Given my choice of Florida or the guillotine, I'd choose the guil lotine."

  "Plenty of available widowers."

  "And even more widows after them. If I ever considered another man, which I don't think I would, I'd prefer a twenty-five year old body builder with the brain of a newt and the stamina of a goat."

  "We have those too if you can afford them. Seriously, you're not really think of retiring, are you?"

  "Seriously. Keep your voice down. Eli gets hysterical whenever I mention wanting to see the Mona Lisa."

  "I don't doubt it."

  "Besides, who are you to talk about retirement? For you retirement isn't a change, it's an extension."

  "Yeah. I hate it. Reach me that other loaf of bread, will you?"