Keno glanced at Jared. “Waste of time.” His voice was quiet. “I figure you and I both have an idea who’s responsible and she wouldn’t have left anything behind.”
“Yeah, I know. But he’s got to follow protocol. If we find any evidence at all…”
“Who was the guard?” Keno interrupted. “One of my men or somebody from town?”
Jared turned to him. “Somebody from town. I have the names of the men we’ve hired from town plus the roster of who signed in the barn tonight. You look like you know something.”
“Can’t say yet. Let’s go have a chat with a few people. Sometimes a person sees more than they know. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Keno turned to Seth. “Can you handle things here?”
“Sure. I’m not going anywhere right now.”
“So, what do we do? I feel like I ought to be doing something.” Tyndal took her grandmother’s hand as Jared and Keno left. “Everyone else seems to have a job.”
“Be patient, sweet girl. Our job is to stay with this baby. We trust blood and heart. He’s a strong, sturdy colt with an attitude like his daddy. I’ve seen Raj when he was sick. Bahadur is enough like him that if he has half a chance, he’ll make it.”
“Listen to your grandmother,” Seth added when Tyndal looked at him. “She’s right. We’ll keep Bahadur on what’s pumping into him now. His fever has already come down a notch. I think Sasha, if she’s to blame for this, missed in her calculations. We caught it early.” Seth reached over to ruffle Tyndal’s dark hair. “We’re not going to lose him, honey.”
“You kept him safe when he was born, I guess you get to do it again.”
“Nope, this kind of stubborn is all him. You watch.”
By morning, Bahadur acted like nothing unusual happened. He was on his feet, happy to slurp up some fresh water, and gobbled down the grain Seth offered.
“He’s going to be fine. Tell her that when she wakes up.”
Jared nodded. “I wish we’d been able to learn more than we did last night. Keno intends to question the guard again. Said he hadn’t told us everything. Yet.” His grin was fierce. “He said he’d start by inviting him to explain why a couple of blonde strands of hair were on the post over there.”
“I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that conversation.” Seth stood, stretched his shoulders and nodded toward Tyndal. “She’s finally getting some sleep. I sent Fee home earlier.”
“I was sorry to be gone so long. Keno said he didn’t need the boss standing by when he spoke with the guard. I’ll stay here till she…”
“I hear you. I’m awake,” Tyndal mumbled against Jared’s shoulder.
“Sure you are. Go back to sleep. Your brat’s got his appetite back, sweetheart. Seth says the crisis has passed and is giving Fee a call. You drifted off about thirty minutes ago.”
“I’m awake now. I’ll stay with him if you want to go get some breakfast.”
“I’m to tell you that you don’t have to worry. Look at him.” Bahadur had his head up; his bright eyes were fixed on Jake and ready for a game.
Jake, for once, wasn’t playful. He gave the colt a gentle body slam, then paced back to the door. From all appearances, he wasn’t about to move. Occasionally he sniffed at the straw and made a low growl.
“He knows, doesn’t he?” Tyndal watched the dog. “He might look relaxed, but his eyes never close.”
“He’s been like that all night.” Jared took a deep breath. “Tyndal, I’d say if he could talk, he’d give us the name and room number of the person who did this.”
Tyndal wrapped her arms around the huge dog. “You stay, boy. Take care of him.”
****
Breakfast was busy. Keno and Jared worked with the Sherriff. Fionola was on the phone. A group of men Tyndal didn’t recognize helped themselves to piles of food at the buffet.
“What in the world…?” She looked at the breakfast room filled with people and gear. Duffle bags were piled along the wall. A rifle leaned up against one corner.
Catching Tyndal’s expression, Keno stood. “Guys, head’s up. This is Tyndal Morgan. Be sure to introduce yourselves to her.” His smile went wide. “These are a few of my buddies I called in last night. They’re mostly housebroken.”
“Ma’am, we have room at this table if you’d care to eat with us. We’ve been briefed on the situation. You don’t have to say anything about your worries, but we’d like to hear about your colt.”
Tyndal found herself seated across from Seth as somebody put plates of food in front of them and six men found seats around the table.
“Is he okay? Do you know what was used on him? Will you keep him in the Show?” The questions circled unanswered.
“I guess you’re the best one to provide the answers.” Tyndal looked at Seth. “I’ll do what’s right for Bahadur. He doesn’t need to be shown at all. The Halter class is full enough.”
“Is that what you want to do? Pull him?” Seth took a bite of the cinnamon roll Fionola’s cook put on his plate, and sighed. “Excuse me, Tyndal. I need a moment. These are the best.” He forked another bite into his mouth and smiled up at the cook.
“Don’t I know it too?” The cook laughed, patted her stomach. “This one was for the Doc, but you boys can take care of what else is here. You did good tonight, honey, saving Miss Tyndal’s colt and all.” She patted Seth on the cheek and set the full platter of rolls in the middle of the table.
“One of these days, that woman’s going to kill me, but I’ll die happy. She works miracles in the kitchen.”
“She’s a sneak too.” Tyndal thought of the meal she’d prepared for Jared. “I’ll tell you about it one of these days, but first, to answer your question, I’d put Bahadur in his class with bells on. How dare she try to take him down! But I don’t know if he’s up to it.”
Seth nodded. “Let’s keep him entered for now. I’ll check him again at noon and make the call then. A colt his age can look like they’re dying one minute, and be back on their feet in no time.”
“I like that call, Doc. Keno told us about Sasha and if she was low enough to do this…I don’t know. We’ve seen a lot of ugly things, but trying to poison a colt is way off.”
One of the men on Tyndal’s left grinned, took a bite of toast piled high with scrambled eggs and ketchup, and kept talking. “If she thinks she missed, she might make a mistake. I’ll be there to give her some trouble if she does.”
“I’d like to see him win. That’s what I want. If somebody’s mean enough to mess with a baby like that? Yeah, she needs to know it didn’t work.” The comments went on, the food disappeared, the cinnamon rolls were nonexistent, and to her surprise, Tyndal found herself feeling better. She looked across the room, met Jared’s eyes. The slow smile of his moved across his face.
“Have any of you gentlemen seen a halter class?” She looked around the table.
“No, ma’am. I’m pretty sure none of us have any idea about such a thing.”
“Speak for yourself,” one of the men spoke up. “Just think about it will ya? It’s about a group of horses wearing fancy halters while some judge decides which one looks the best.” He grinned at Tyndal. “I’m from Kentucky and when I was a kid, I was in 4-H. I showed a pony in conformation and our leader called it a halter class. But that’s not to disrespect what’s gonna happen here today.”
“I thought your explanation was fine. I’ll hope to see you all this afternoon then.” Tyndal stood and every man there came to his feet.
“You have a nice day, ma’am. We’ll be around. You need us, just nod. We read people pretty good. We’ll be keeping an eye on you too.”
****
“You know there’s a reason Jared calls you gator gut don’t you?” Tyndal looked at the colt gumming her boots. Showing him might make him an even more obvious target, but overall, she agreed with her breakfast companions, and given his happy squeal when she led him out of his stall, Bahadur seemed of the same mind.
“Okay, kid. All I ca
n say is it’s just too bad you’re not being judged on the condition of your jaws.” He rubbed his head against her shoulders, chewed on her jacket, and fidgeted through his bath. With only his hooves left to polish, Tyndal studied him, thinking no one would guess he’d been in a battle for his life the night before.
Jared came to help as she finished. “Hey, love. I have something for you, for both of you actually.” As he held a beautifully wrapped box toward Tyndal, the colt made a grab for the bow.
“It’s not edible, you pig.” Jared laughed, and pushed his head away. He kept Bahadur busy while Tyndal opened the box.
“A show halter! I’d decided to use Raj’s old one. Chase braided one for Raj when he was about Bahadur’s age. It fit okay, but this is better. It’s beautiful.” The supple leather, black as the one it was made for, was extremely strong, yet lightweight. She slid it over Bahadur’s head, then slid her arms around Jared.
“I hope your ‘fiancée’ watches today. It makes me sick what she tried to do between us and to Bahadur. I hope seeing us together, and that he’s fine”—she rubbed Bahadur’s nose—“sticks in her craw and she chokes on it.”
Jared laughed. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”
“A wise man wouldn’t forget. Oh, Jared, do you see this?” She waved toward to crowd that filled the walkways.
“I do, love. And I know what it would have meant to Chase.”
“He’d love every minute.” The Classic always felt like a carnival. From the pageantry of the opening to the booths and stands of artists who displayed their crafts between the show barns and the corrals, and through each activity of the day, something was happening. Teens flirted and texted while concession stands sold drinks fast as ice melted in a cup. The scent of Fry bread sizzled in the air, hats and sunscreen were sold to sooth the skin, while ice cream soothed the frazzled tempers of parents and children.
“Hold on, love. We have company.” Jared whispered to Tyndal. “Sasha’s on her way.”
“Then let her get an eyeful.”
Bahadur squirmed at the rail and nosed at anyone who’d give him a pat. Jake never left his side. When Sasha approached, he growled.
“Tyndal, your dog is irritating.”
Tyndal put her hand on Jake’s collar, felt him quiver at her touch. “No, he’s just selective.”
“Touché.” Sasha nodded to Jared and stepped to one side as a child ran up to Bahadur.
“He’s my favorite. I bet he wins today. Don’t you think he’s pretty?”
“I do, and he’s my favorite too,” Sasha replied. “My very favorite. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll find something to eat.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Jake. “Maybe a hot dog. Or one of those things that’s served on a stick.” Sasha disappeared in to the crowd.
“That woman is rude,” Tyndal said to Jared. “And mean. I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt Bahadur. What’s he done to her anyway?”
“He breathes air, love. For some people, that’s enough.”
“Well, I don’t like her.”
“Tyndal, look over there.” Following Jared’s hand, she saw Sasha in line at one of the food trucks, while one window over, a man who’d been in 4-H and showed a pony at Halter when he was young, bought a chocolate cone.
She sighed. “He’s watching out for us, just like he said.” Tyndal turned to Jared, and leaned into his arms.
“Love?” he whispered against her hair.
“Hmm?”
“Did you hear the ten minute warning?”
“No, I’m busy,” she replied, her mouth on his. “I’ve been told a kiss, when done right, can lessen stress and keep traumatic events in perspective.”
“What, like having to take Bahadur into a class with colts that have manners?”
“Something like that.”
“Hmm. I’d love to explore your stress reduction concept more fully, but Sweetheart?” Jared lifted his head and took her by the shoulders, steadying her as much as he steadied himself. “Your brat is ready. But you need to get yourself together.”
Tyndal glanced down at her jeans and scuffed boots. Groaned. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? Take him to the gate, would you please? Then keep him there for me. My clothes are in my office.” She took off running.
Keno moved in beside Jared.
“Say something you shouldn’t have?” Keno laughed.
“I reminded her she needed to change clothes.”
“Brave man.”
****
As he had for the others, Jared opened the gate for Tyndal. There were eight entrants in the halter class. He hoped Bahadur would rise to the occasion. “Good luck, love. I’ll be watching with Fee and Seth.”
“Thanks.” At the familiar voice, Bahadur made a move toward Jared and bumped Tyndal.
“You pest.” Jared gave him a quick pet. “Don’t eat anything, okay? Especially the judge.”
“Don’t even think that.”
“Remember how Fee met Chase?” Jared asked.
“That’s what went through my mind, unfortunately. Okay, it’s time. Here we go.”
Bahadur was introduced last. Tyndal, as polished as her colt, presented him in a single turn around the arena as the judge requested.
“Would you look at that?” Seth slipped in beside Fionola. “If I didn’t see it for myself, I’d never believe it.”
“Who would?”
“I think Bahadur knows. I think he knows he has to be good, especially for this class. Sorry I’m late.” Jared took a seat behind Seth. “Keno says she’s here, that she’s somewhere up there.” He pointed toward the bleachers that held the crowd gathered for the Class. “Sasha stopped to hassle Tyndal earlier. One of Keno’s men followed her.”
“See the guy leaning on the rails over there? We shared a cinnamon roll this morning. I recognized him when he came in a few minutes ago. I thought I saw another guy, but he disappeared. Last time I checked, it appeared we’ve drawn quite a crowd for this class,” Seth said, not taking his eyes off Bahadur. “Just look at that colt. He owns the crowd and knows it.”
Bahadur stood on a loose lead in proper extension, motionless as an exquisite piece of carved ebony. Tyndal stepped back, faced him.
The judge slowly circled, studying his bright, brilliant eyes, bone structure, and conformation, feeling his straight legs, running her hand down the length of his back, the arch of his neck, perfect head, and smiled. She repeated the same pattern with the seven other entrants. Then walked back to Bahadur.
She motioned for Tyndal to lead him forward, and asked another handler do the same. It was between Bahadur and a glossy gray colt. The gray was a couple months older, and hadn’t made a mistake. He stood, he walked easily. He didn’t flinch or squirm. But then again, Bahadur didn’t either. He lifted his head just a notch and stared at the judge.
“I’ve seen Raj do exactly that,” Fionola whispered. “It’s like they dare the judge to look away. How could anyone not see the pride? That’s something that can’t be taught.”
The judge sighed as she walked between the two colts, obviously comparing and studying each one individually. Finally she had everyone circle the arena again and stand—Bahadur’s least favorite task.
From where he sat, Jared had a clear view of the judge. When he saw her slight smile, he grinned.
“He’s got it,” he whispered. “He’s going to take the class.”
The judge returned to her station, registered the names of those taking the first three positions. She called the winner of the blue ribbon first.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the Arabian Halter class for yearlings and under is…Morgan’s Bahadur, owned and trained by Tyndal Morgan of Morgan’s Walk.”
The audience erupted as one. They stood, applauding as Tyndal led Bahadur forward.
In an honor reserved for the winner, the judge moved to pin the ribbon to his halter. Bahadur tried to eat it. The judge, a gracious woman who’d been around horses
all her life, laughed and handed the ribbon to Tyndal.
Chapter Eight
Fionola was too restless for dreams. Tyndal’s victory party capped off the day with a laughter-filled celebration, but by the end of the evening, she was glad to see the last guest depart. Amid all the thank-yous, congratulations, and let’s get together agains, she managed to remain gracious when all she could think about was how her feet and legs hurt, the headache nothing relieved, and the cool peace of her bedroom. She didn’t even stop by her office. Whatever required her signature or a decision could wait until morning. She slid between the sheets, said her prayers, and couldn’t close her eyes.
Any other night and she’d be out before her head hit the pillow. But when she wanted to sleep? Not a bloody chance. Irritated and thinking she’d make some tea, she crept down the stairs, hoping to not bother anyone lucky enough to be off in dreamland. Wasn’t Chamomile supposed to be restful and calming? Maybe it would help.
“You’re getting to be an old gal, Fionola Morgan.” Other than the soft hiss and crackle of the fireplace, no one was there to disagree.
Who could blame her for being exhausted? If her hands shook when she poured the tea, it shouldn’t be a surprise. For one reason or another, sleep was in short supply. Between sitting up most of the previous night keeping vigil over Bahadur, and the hours she’d put in so far, anyone would be tired. Since before the Classic, she’d made it a habit to work at night just to get things done. Every year there were more and more details to consider. But dealing with a situation like what Sasha presented? Definitely a first, and hopefully, the last. At least that sweet baby survived. No, she thought, he didn’t just survive. He won his class. Maybe it was luck and attitude, and mostly the latter, but nobody could deny the crowd loved him. The way he pestered Tyndal reminded her of Raj and Chase. They’d been two of a kind—stubborn and indomitable. Chase’s death seemed such an outrageous insult.
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