Don’t work too hard. Is she being sarcastic or what? How does one not do that around this place? These people aren’t dairy farmers. They start at the crack of dawn and work till sometimes eleven at night or later. Stalls have to be cleaned, eats and water supplied as needed and fences repaired. Horses need to be groomed, bathed, shoed, exercised, trained and given pills and shots. Whew. Just ticking off that list of work in my head wore me out. There was no way this unemployed teacher ever planned to switch gears and work here full time. Even the thought of substituting was more delightful.
As soon as we left the confines of Reed’s cozy country kitchen behind, Terry inquired about my first day on the job. “How you doing? Feel a little more relaxed about what’s expected of you?”
What dumb questions. They ranked right up there with Aunt Zoe’s gem a few minutes ago. What did the man expect me to say? “Oh, I just adore this work. Ever since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I’ve dreamt of nothing but scooping up sawdust and horse poop. And now, thanks to you, I know how to do it properly.” I swung my body to face him, and gave what I thought was an appropriate reply. “Okay, I guess. I never realized how much work is involved in caring for horses. It’s nothing like owning a cat or dog, is it?”
Apparently Terry thought my last comment was hilarious. He started to choke. “It sure ain’t. And what we did so far this morning, why that’s just a drop in the ol’ bucket, Mary.”
Grand. “A drop in the ol’ bucket for him maybe. I was cleaning the stalls while he was doing who knows what outside of the barn.”
We reentered the barn now and walked a quarter of the way in before Terry signaled for us to stop. “So, are you ready for another horse task to be added to your day?”
My stomach dropped a couple feet. What duty was this guy passing on now? Surely, he’s figured out how scared I am to be around these fifteen and sixteen hand animals; I’d made my concerns loud and clear earlier this morning. And when the heck did those other horses come in? Sleuthing was what I was here for, not grunt work. I’ll tell you one thing, Mary, if this new job requires you to sit on a horse’s back, you have orders to walk the gangplank instead. “I guess. So, what’s next?”
“The horses need to be groomed after the stalls are all cleaned.”
Groomed. Ponies and miniature horses pranced through my head. Unfortunately, Terry wasn’t referring to them. He meant those big suckers weighing 1,000-1,200 pounds taking up space in the stalls. I hit the wall. Flipped out. “Wh--at?”
My unbridled outburst created quite a stir. The horses snorted wildly while Terry braced his lean body against a stall waiting for the shock waves to settle.
Too late to undo the damage, I had unleashed, my hands immediately flew to my mouth. “Sorry,” I barely squeaked out, “I thought I got stung by a bee.” A fib of course. “It’s happened to me three times as a kid, and I just can’t seem to get over it.”
The man accepted what I said without reservation. “It was more likely a horse fly, but I understand where you’re coming from. The problem is horses are quite skittish. The tiniest thing can set them off. When you’re around these big fellas, you just gotta pretend you’re in a library setting.”
Yeah, right. The day a library is the same as a barn full of horses that’s the day I take a rocket ship to Neptune.
“You know, speak in calm, soothing tones.”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
I took a deep breath, already forgetting the first hard lesson I learned when I strolled into the barn first thing that morning. Luckily, I didn’t blow out my sinuses, but my reflexes kicked in. I grabbed my nose. It just made matters worse. I began to cough uncontrollably and dropped my hand to my side. Once I stopped hacking away, I managed to say, “Horses are groomed every day?”
“Yup. It prevents skin irritation and chafing. Plus, it helps us pick up on the horses’ moods and find any wounds or swellings before they’re too serious.” He waved his hand towards the back of the barn. “See that black sixteen hand fella in the last stall?” I shook my head. “His name’s Cortez. I’ll go over the basic grooming procedures for him. Come on.”
Sixteen hands? Hmm? I swiftly dug through the recesses of my mind to find out exactly how many inches a hand equaled. It wasn’t that long ago this elementary teacher shared the info with her students. Eureka. A hand is equivalent to four inches. So, Cortez is the height of an average-sized woman. I guess I’m okay with that. If a horse and I are on the same playing field, so to speak, we should see eye-to-eye. “Ah, all right,” I rapidly replied, but my body convinced my mind there was no urgency in getting to the back of the barn any sooner than I had to.
When I drew close to Cortez’s stall, he released the most intense glare just like my mother did when she was upset with me. The only difference was I hadn’t done anything to irritate him yet.
I tried not to convey any fear, but that’s pretty difficult when you’ve spent your last thirty years trying to forget a bad incident. Luckily, Cortez also reminded me of Black Beauty. He was all shiny and silky too. My lips suddenly parted without me telling them to. “Wow. He’s a real beaut.”
“Yes. Yes, he is,” Terry solemnly replied.
“How old is he?”
“Five. He was gelded last year at this time.”
Good news, Mary. No need to worry. At least I didn’t think there was. If I’m not mistaken, when Aunt Zoe brought me up to speed on horses, she said gelded ones are calmer. Yes. That’s what she said. I can definitely relax. But just as I was about to do so, Terry ruined it all by twisting things up a bit. “This guy still has some feistiness in him, but we’re working on it, aren’t we, Cortez?”
The horse lifted his head and then dropped it.
My stomach went bonkers. Why did Terry have to pass on that tidbit? Did he want me to squirm even more? With fear uppermost in my mind, my feet tried to make a hasty departure but were immediately blocked by a large wooden box directly in line with this stall. It wasn’t the first box I had seen like this. The barn was full of them. I should’ve snuck a peek inside one of them, but I never had the chance.
“Care to guess what’s stored in there, Mary?”
I gave a lame reply. “Extra food?”
“Nope. The tack locker holds horse supplies, including grooming ones.”
Hot dog! Just what I didn’t need to know.
Chapter 18
Once the lid of the tack locker was tossed back, Terry whipped out all the grooming supplies, quickly demonstrated how each was used and then left them outside the stall for me. “There you are. Pretty simple, huh?” I grinned. Simple for you maybe. “All right, Mary, you can finish up with the stalls now and then begin grooming the horses down at this end of the barn.”
My throat felt like it had been suddenly constricted by a vise. “Are you going to supervise the grooming?”
“Nah. You’ll do all right. I got another daily duty to attend to, so it’s best if I start at the other end.”
“I really don’t think I can handle the grooming, Terry, without someone overseeing me.”
“Sure, you can. Just remember to never stand directly behind the horse’s hind legs, and you’ll be fine.”
A lot he knows. There’s no way I’d be fine. Horses big or small and even in between frightened me. I wondered what other daily duty Terry was so anxious to take care of at the other end of the barn that he couldn’t even watch me groom one measly horse. I gave the man in charge of me a questioning glance. Was he going to throw another curve my way later? And how the heck was I supposed to find out what made him tick if he kept disappearing on me?
“You’re going to do serious damage to that forehead of yours, Missy, if you don’t watch out. There’s nothing to fret over.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frown. I was just wondering if whatever you
’re doing next would eventually include me, is all.”
“Heck no. You’re just a greenhorn. Shooing and hoof cleaning are tended to by special people who have plenty of horse experience under their belts.”
Yes! Finally, someone up there’s watching over me. I permitted a broad smile to spread from one ear to the other now. It was bad enough being confined to the twelve-by-twelve-foot playpen of an animal I was extremely fearful of, I didn’t need broken toes and bruises to boot.
The minute Terry left me to my own devices, my smile evaporated, and I became jittery all over again. How was I ever going to enter the lion’s den? I wasn’t that familiar with horses, but I’d read my share of novels and seen enough movies in which horses play a prominent role to know they’ve an uncanny ability to pick up human vibes and react accordingly. “Get a grip, lady,” I mumbled with bravado. What’s the worst thing that can happen when you connect with a horse? “I’ll hyperventilate.”
Now that my brief pep talk was over, I returned to cleaning the rest of the stalls, which didn’t take long since they weren’t as full of poop as the others. The down side—grooming was still beckoning me, and I felt like a train about to derail.
Before I began my new project, I ran Terry’s directives through my mind one more time. “Start on left side, low end of the neck. Use curry comb first—brings dirt to the surface. Rub comb in circular motion.” Okay. I think that’s it. I gazed at the various brushes resting at my feet now. “Oops.” There are too many brushes. I think that’s the soft brush. No, that one is. This one’s the stiff brush, or is it the mane and tail brush? Soft brush, stiff brush, face brush, tail brush, curry comb. My head was spinning. I knew I was supposed to begin with the curry comb, but which one was it? I continued to stare at the five items. “It’s got to be the soft rubbery circular one that doesn’t look like a brush or comb.” Hmm. I wonder if anyone’s ever thought of using a curry comb to loosen the sand on the scalp and skin after a day at the beach. It could be a hot item at the dollar store. I stooped down now, picked up what I had decided was the curry comb and entered Cortez’s stall.
The horse lifted his star-marked head to medium height and greeted me with a nicker. His ears appeared relaxed and pointed backwards. I recalled that they were pricked forward when Terry was demonstrating how to groom him. Should I be concerned?
I forged ahead anyway. The grooming had to get done and the sooner the better. “Nice horsey. You are nice, right?” Cortez didn’t reply. I stretched my hand out and placed it palm side down near his nostrils like I had seen Terry do earlier. Supposedly, it’s a get-acquainted gesture. Let’s the horse know you’re not his enemy. “Okay. Now it’s up to you, Horsey.”
Cortez took his time sniffing my shaky hand. I didn’t blame him. It was vibrating so hard I thought it was going to take off for parts unknown and never return.
Amazingly, with all the hand action going on, Cortez didn’t snort or charge me. Surely that was a good sign, right?
When I thought sufficient time had elapsed for getting acquainted, I dropped my arm to its normal position and inquired how the animal was doing. “Nice, Cortez,” I said in almost a purring voice. “Got any aches or pains today?”
Cortez raised his head slightly and neighed into my ear.
“Nope. Good, because I never intended to give you a massage or rub your legs with stinky ointment when I walked in here. That’s what the pros get paid for.”
The jet black horse gently nudged my shoulder and then briefly neighed again.
“All right. All right. I hear ya. Let’s get to it then. Spruce you up for those mares out in the pasture, shall we?”
*****
“Mary. Mary, come quickly,” Aunt Zoe cried as she came charging through the barn door.
Something serious must be taking place outside of my view. Without thinking, I jerked the stiff brush. The quick movement wouldn’t have been a big deal if the brush hadn’t been resting on Cortez’s underbelly, an extremely sensitive part, but it was. His hind legs suddenly flew out from under him. Thankfully, I wasn’t on the receiving end, but I still shook from my head to my pinky toes.
Poor Auntie. I think she thought I was a goner. Her face suddenly took on a deadly ashen appearance. “Oh, my God! Are you all right, Mary?”
“Yes.” No thanks to you. “What’s going on?” I asked, still shaking in my boots from the near fatal encounter I just had with Cortez. “More trouble with a horse or Clint?”
My aunt shook her vibrant red head. “Neither.”
She almost got me killed, and it wasn’t for either of those reasons. I snapped. “Can’t whatever you need wait? I’ve got a lot on my plate before the lunch hour.” Whoa! Hold on there, Partner. Did you hear what you just said? Less than fifteen minutes ago you were looking for the nearest escape hatch, and two seconds ago your life was almost snuffed out.
Aunt Zoe stood her ground. “No, it can’t wait,” she replied flatly. “You need to drop what you’re doing immediately and come with me.”
“All right. I’m coming, but this better be worth the interruption.” I hurriedly locked the gate on Cortez’s stall and then put the stiff brush with the others before I followed my aunt outside.
As it turned out, my aunt’s destination wasn’t too far from where we exited the barn. Reed Griffin was already there, huddled over a wooden crate that appeared to be lodged between two barn boards. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, maybe searching for something important he had dropped.
“It’s so exciting, Mary,” my aunt cooed as she stationed herself next to our client, “Reed’s barn cat, Mini, is having her litter. Three have come so far, but he thinks there’ll be more.”
That’s what all this hoopla was about? A darn cat? My eyes rested on Reed. He reminded me of an expectant father waiting for the doctor to pronounce the good news.
“Well, she had eight the last time,” my client shared, “so I figure maybe five this time.” He turned to look at me now. My face felt like it was set in stone. “It’s all right, Mary. You don’t have to worry about, Terry. I’ll tell him you’ve never witnessed animals being born before.”
How did he know that? I felt my stone face crack now as I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Use your brains, Mary. He’s just creating a fib. Aunt Zoe’s been gone so much she wouldn’t know whether we’ve had animals in our home over the years or not. “Thanks. I don’t want to get on his bad side. So, how long do you think it will take for the rest of the kittens to be born?” I inquired as I snuck a peek.
Reed scratched his cap-covered head. “Hard to tell. I think another ten minutes ought to do it.”
Without thinking, I reached in the box to pick up a newborn. Mini snarled. Reed’s hand instantly flew underneath mine. If he hadn’t reacted so fast, I swear Mini would’ve torn my hand off. “Gotta give her time with her babies,” my client warned.
I backed away now. “Of course, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Plus,” my aunt continued, “the babies eyes can be damaged if you touch them too soon, isn’t that right, Reed?”
“That’s right. The kittens shouldn’t be touched for at least five days.” He held out his hands for inspection now. “The germs on a person’s hands can cause their eyes to matt up and never open.”
My eyeballs felt like they had been blasted out of their sockets. “Really?” Just what I didn’t need to know, I almost blinded a kitten. It’s my parents’ fault. If they would have let us kids have pets when we were growing up, we’d know what to expect of the animal kingdom.
Reed easily brushed the incident aside now like it never occurred. Probably used to seeing other’s doing similar things. “So, how’s it going in the barn? Pick up anything useful from chatting with Terry or see anything unusual?”
I ran my hands back and forth along the side of my jeans. “To be honest, Reed, I haven
’t had much of a chance to chat with Terry, and with my lack of horse experience I’m not quite sure what I should be paying attention to. What I really think I should focus on is setting up a lookout near where the other incidents have occurred.”
“No one’s saying you can’t do that, Mary.” Now, Reed gave his full attention to the elderly woman in his company. “You know, tonight’s one of our many potluck suppers where we sit around the ol’ campfire telling tales and singing songs with close family members and those who board with us. I think it’s the perfect excuse for you ladies to remain beyond the expected working hours. Don’t you agree, Zoe?”
“Oh, yes. Your little soiree would be an excellent screen for what we really plan to do.”
Good gravy. Listen to her. I’ve turned my roommate in to a detective. Well, this gal doesn’t give a rip about some stupid cookout. All I want to know is how the heck am I going to be alert for late night activities after working my butt off all day and then being stuffed with heavy grub?
Chapter 19
My back, head, and feet felt like a herd of elephants had trampled over them several times. All that pain and for what? Today’s undercover work revealed nothing unless one counted the small scraps pertaining to riding stables. For instance, rubber mats needed to be covered with at least eight inches of bedding. Lime’s a good deodorizer. No one will ever ask you out on a date if you’ve slipped in a stall occupied by a mare. And never, never look a horse directly in the eyes. But since I didn’t harbor any future plans concerning horses, I wasn’t obligated to retain anything.
Perched on a crazy canvas camping stool, I was the epitome of grace under fire, watching each new arrival as they joined the cookout. Yeah, right. Strands of unkempt hair swept across my smudged face, sweat oozed from every pore, and my grungy stinky jeans were as stiff as a board. Too bad I hadn’t been invited to a masquerade ball instead of a riding stable cookout. No one would know who I was, and I wouldn’t have to mingle with all these horse-loving people. They’d recognize the fake among them as soon as my lips parted.
Death at the Bar X Ranch Page 13