3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  He held Daisy’s reins in one hand and a large plastic ring in the other. The task that Jessica had given him was to pick up rings hanging from both ends of a tall T-shaped pole planted in the dirt near one end of the corral. Then he had to slide the rings onto three tall straight poles sticking up from the ground near the other end of the corral as Daisy walked past them. Each pole already had one colored ring on it, red, blue or yellow, and Donny had to slide the colored rings he picked up onto the matching pole. The activity of guiding the horse and positioning the rings was designed to make him focus on interrelated work tasks while still having a good time.

  He was doing more of the latter than the former, though, as the reins lay ineffectively against Daisy’s neck.

  “Donny, hey, Donny,” Jessica called to get his attention. “Pull the reins to the right to turn Daisy around the pole. That’s it. Now bring her close enough so you can reach the next one. Good!”

  Donny leaned too far over to Claire’s side to lasso the pole with his ring, and Claire steadied him with a hand at his waist. She could feel Brittany tugging gently on his safety belt on the other side.

  “Sit up straight,” Jessica said, “and try to stay in the center of the saddle.” As Donny followed her directions, she said, “Good job. Now turn Daisy back to the T to get the next ring.”

  She kept up a steady monologue of directions and positive reinforcement as Donny went through his paces. The patter constantly redirected his attention from the distracting sensations he was experiencing back to his job.

  Finally he finished and Claire joined Brittany and Jessica in clapping and cheering Donny’s success. By then, his session’s time was up, so they helped him dismount and returned him to his waiting mother. While Jessica talked to the mother about her son’s progress, Claire and Brittany walked Daisy back to the barn.

  After they got inside and slipped the bandanas off their faces, Claire figured it was a good time to talk to Brittany about her love life.

  “Even with the dust, that was fun,” she said. “I had a good time on the trail ride Wednesday, too. Until we had that run-in with Peak View Stables at Giant Footprints, that is.”

  “I think Hank handled it as well as he could.” Brittany held Daisy’s stall gate open so Claire could lead the horse in.

  “Yeah, and I don’t blame their trail guide. He had his hands full with antsy clients and horses. Couldn’t help but notice how handsome he is.” Claire smiled at Brittany. “And I think you noticed, too.”

  A blush stole up her neck. “We’ve dated some.”

  “I figured as much, given his comment about his competition being gone after Kyle died. Have you known him long?”

  Brittany stepped to Daisy’s head and started unfastening her bridle. “We took an animal husbandry class together at Pikes Peak Community College last fall.”

  Claire tugged on Daisy’s saddle strap to loosen it. “Was Vince jealous of Kyle?”

  “I didn’t meet Kyle until we both started working here. For a while, they didn’t know about each other. Then when Kyle and I were at the movies a few weeks ago, I saw Vince in line with a group of wranglers from Peak View. I ducked behind a wall, but he must have seen me, because he brought it up the next time we saw each other.”

  “I bet he was steamed.”

  Brittany shrugged and slid Daisy’s bridle over her ears. “I guess so, but since we’d just started dating and weren’t exclusive or anything, he couldn’t do much about it. He asked me to stop seeing other guys then, but I said I wasn’t ready.”

  “Good idea. It takes a while to get to know a guy well, and you’re young and have lots of time.” Claire had unfastened the saddle strap and grunted while trying to lift the saddle.

  “I’ll get that.” Brittany came around to slide the saddle off of Daisy’s back. She hung it on the gate rail then turned to Claire. “You know, it’s nice to be able to talk to you about this. My mom would get all negative and tell me I shouldn’t have dated either of them.”

  That made Claire wince a little inside. If her daughter, Judy, had been in the same situation a few years ago, she might have acted the same way. No need to tell Brittany that, though. “It sounds to me like you’ve been pretty mature about the situation.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t want there to be any secrets, so I told Kyle about Vince, too. Figured I didn’t want to make him mad either.”

  Claire slid the saddle blanket off Daisy’s back, shook the dust out, then hung it on the side of the stall. “And how did Kyle take it?”

  Brittany smiled shyly. “Pretty much the same way. Asked me to stop seeing Vince.”

  Laying a hand on her hip, Claire gave Brittany a teasing wink. “Lucky you, having two guys fight over you.”

  “It’s not like I’m a flirt or anything,” Brittany said defensively.

  Claire waved her hand. “I’m just kidding. What attracted you to each of them?”

  “Well, along with being a wrangler, Vince is practicing to compete in rodeos. He hunts for elk every fall, and he took me fishing a couple of weeks ago. I like how confident he is, especially in the wild.”

  “Sounds like a real hunk.” Claire picked up a brush and began brushing Daisy with it.

  Brittany nodded and began brushing Daisy’s other side. “And Kyle was a lot of fun, cracking jokes and being real friendly with everyone. I loved hanging with him. I liked how he always could make me laugh.” She bit her lip. “I miss him.”

  “I’m sure lots of people do. He seemed very nice. Still, it’s probably a good thing Vince and Kyle didn’t work together. Speaking of which, I hadn’t realized that Kyle got Pedro his job here. Did you know that?”

  Brittany’s hand stilled, then she vigorously started brushing Daisy again. “Yes.”

  Claire peered at Brittany. “You say that like you’re not happy about it.”

  “Oh, I’m happy Pedro got the job. He’s nice, and I like working with him—unlike Gil.”

  “So what’s wrong?”

  With a sigh, Brittany said, “It doesn’t matter any more what I say about Kyle, but I don’t want to get Pedro in trouble. That’s why I didn’t say anything to the police.”

  Claire stopped brushing. “Kyle was murdered, Brittany. If you know anything that might help the police find out who did it, you should tell them.”

  Dropping her hands to her sides, Brittany pursed her lips and dug the toe of her boot into the straw lining the stall floor.

  Claire tried another tack. “If Pedro is involved in something that got Kyle killed, he could be in danger, too.”

  Brittany’s head jerked up, and she automatically began brushing Daisy again. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that. The man Kyle worked for liked him and his results. He never would have hurt him—or Pedro.”

  Claire resumed brushing her side of the horse, too. “Maybe you should tell me exactly what’s going on, who Kyle worked for and what he was doing. Then I can help you figure out what to tell the police.”

  “But I can’t. You’re Charley’s sister. You’ll tell him, then he’ll fire Pedro.”

  “I think I already have a pretty good idea what you’re talking about,” Claire said. “Pedro is an illegal immigrant, isn’t he?”

  “Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Brittany squinted her eyes shut as if she was in pain.

  “Yes, Charley’s my brother, Brittany, and if I find out anything that threatens him or his business, I’ve got to tell him.”

  “And if Charley knows Pedro’s illegal, he has to fire him.” Brittany’s voice took on a worried whine. “If he doesn’t, then he’s in trouble.”

  Claire thought for a moment. “Okay, here’s what I can do. Charley knows that if ICE asks to see his records, he can request three days to get them in order. And he will. I won’t tell him about Pedro until or unless that happens. So spill.”

 
Brittany looked around the barn. Claire did, too, but she knew they weren’t within earshot of anyone else. Jorge and the farrier were in the back treatment area working on a horse. Gil and Hank were out on a trail ride, Charley was in the trailer, and Jessica was still outside with Donny and his mother.

  “No one can hear us.” Claire put down her brush, picked up a mane comb and started combing Daisy’s mane.

  While doing the same, Brittany exhaled. “Okay, here’s the thing. Kyle wasn’t bringing in illegal immigrants, but he was helping them once they got here. There’s this guy in town named Oscar Vargas who brings in people from Mexico and gets them fake ID’s. Kyle found jobs for those who can work with horses.”

  “And I suppose this guy Vargas paid Kyle for every job he found.”

  “Yes, but Kyle didn’t do it for the money. He said he did it to help people who are really poor and can’t find work in Mexico.”

  “Like Pedro.”

  Brittany nodded. “Like Pedro. And Pedro has to give part of every paycheck to Vargas until he’s paid off the fee to get him in the U.S. So, Vargas has no reason to hurt him. He knows Pedro will keep quiet, and he wouldn’t want to stop his payments.”

  “And Vargas was happy with Kyle’s work?”

  “Sure. Just a couple days before he was … killed, Kyle told me he’d recommended two people for jobs at a stable in Monument, and they were hired. So Vargas was going to give him a bonus. Kyle said he’d use the money to take me to Cheyenne Frontier Days next month.”

  Claire thought for a moment. “So far, I don’t see a motive for murder here. But where there’s a secret, especially one this big, there’s the possibility of that secret getting out, and of someone getting mad as a result. Maybe Vargas thought Kyle had ratted on him to the police.”

  “Kyle wouldn’t have done that,” Brittany said. “He swore me to secrecy before he told me. And he only told me because I asked where he got the money for a trip to Wyoming. I knew the money came from somewhere fishy. Now I wish I hadn’t pushed him to tell me!”

  “And because of your promise to Kyle, and to protect Pedro, you haven’t said anything to the police.”

  Brittany nodded, her eyes wide. “If I do, then I’ll be the rat, and Vargas might come after me.” She gave a little shudder and rubbed her arms.

  Claire came around Daisy and put an arm around Brittany’s shoulders. “Have you ever met this guy?”

  “No.”

  “Does he know who you are? That you were seeing Kyle?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How about this for a plan? I’ll tell Detective Wilson what you told me about Kyle arranging for the two people to get jobs in Monument, but I won’t say anything about Pedro. If he asks me where I got the information, I’ll say I can’t tell him. I’ll also ask him not to let anyone know where he heard it. Then no one will make a connection to you and you’ll be safe.”

  “I guess that would be okay.”

  “Good. Now, Daisy here has been awfully patient with us. Let’s finish up.”

  The two of them finished grooming Daisy, who had stood chewing on oats while they talked, enjoying the lengthy brushing. Then they stepped out of her stall, carrying their gear.

  While they were putting things away, Jorge came out of Gunpowder’s stall. He led the horse back to where the farrier was waiting after finishing her work on the other horse. He looked at Daisy, then at Gunpowder as if he had an idea.

  “Brittany, could you bring Daisy to the treatment area?” he asked. “Gunpowder likes her, and she might help calm him down while Señora Dietz works on him. I don’t want him to kick her.”

  “Sure,” Brittany said.

  “Could you use another set of hands?” Claire asked.

  “Sí, probably.” He waved for the two of them to follow him.

  They went back and got Daisy. Once they reached the treatment area, Jorge introduced them to Louise Dietz, the farrier. She was a tall woman, almost six feet, Claire guessed. She looked to be in her thirties with short-cropped reddish-brown hair and well-defined biceps. She wore a teal T-shirt, jeans, work boots, and a pair of well-worn, stained leather chaps. She smelled of leather, too, and steel and horseflesh. But her aroma wasn’t unpleasant, just earthy, as the woman herself seemed to be.

  Louise held up her filthy hands. “I’d offer to shake, but you don’t want to touch these, even if you’ve been working around horses.” She had no compulsion about reaching up to rub Gunpowder’s nose while Jorge tied him off, though. “So, big fella, I hear you’ve had a traumatic week.”

  “That’s why I brought these two and Daisy to help,” Jorge said. “Daisy’s company should help keep him calm, and I have some carrots in my pocket, too.”

  Brittany positioned Daisy so she was nose-to-nose with Gunpowder and tied her up. The two horses nuzzled each other.

  “Gunpowder should let you work on his front hooves just fine,” Jorge said to Louise, “but he’s still twitchy around the back end. Once you are ready to do those shoes, I’ll have Brittany and Claire help hold him still. I don’t want him to hurt you.”

  “And I don’t want to hurt him, either.” Louise moved her knee-high tool cart on wheels near Gunpowder. “If he moves too much while I’m nailing the shoe on, I could quick him.”

  “What’s that mean?” Claire asked.

  “Driving the nail into the sensitive part of the hoof,” Louise said. “Same as if you cut your toenail in the pink part instead of the white, then tried walking on your tippy toes.”

  “Ouch.”

  “That’s what the horses say—in their own way.” The farrier rubbed her hands together. “Let’s get started. Hopefully, Gunpowder will be soothed by the familiar rhythm of his pedicure, and we won’t have any problems.”

  Louise ran her hands down Gunpowder’s chest and front left leg, checking for any sensitivity or twitching. Seemingly satisfied with his response, she moved her tools within reach. She stood with her back to Gunpowder’s head and gently lifted his hoof. She snugged his lower leg between her thighs and above her bent knees so she had access to the bottom of the hoof.

  “I’ve never seen a horse shoed before,” Claire said. “Do you mind explaining the process?”

  “Not at all.” Louise picked up a tool. “These are pincers, to remove the old shoe.” After some tugging to loosen the nails, she removed the worn-down horseshoe, then picked up another tool. “Now I’m going to trim the bottom of his hoof with this pick. When horses wear shoes, their hooves don’t wear down like they do in the wild, so we need to trim them.”

  As she worked, she said, “Nice and clean and healthy, Jorge, as usual.” She looked at Claire. “Jorge here takes good care of Charley’s horses.”

  Jorge smiled at the compliment, but he continued watching Gunpowder and rhythmically stroking him.

  After cleaning the hoof, Louise picked up another tool. “After I trim the hoof wall with these nippers, I’ll file it down so it will be ready for a new shoe.” She made quick work of that, then pulled a steel horseshoe out of a sack and held it up to Gunpowder’s hoof. “Almost perfect.”

  Louise went over to an anvil and banged on the horseshoe. She sized it up against Gunpowder’s hoof and banged on it again. She stuck a half dozen nails in her mouth and nestled Gunpowder’s hoof between her thighs. After hammering in the nails, she turned around so she had access to the top of the hoof.

  Then she picked up her file. “I’ll just file these nails off so they’re smooth, and we’re done.”

  She went through the same motions on Gunpowder’s other front hoof with no problems. But when she ran her hands down his back flank and approached his left knee, his ears went back, and he stepped away.

  She stopped and looked at Jorge. “Yep, still kinda twitchy there.”

  Jorge nodded. “Brittany and Claire, could you stand on either side of G
unpowder’s head? You need to keep him still up there while I hold him back here.” He handed Brittany his baggie of mini carrots.

  While they were getting into position, Louise pulled out a short metal stand with a hoof-shaped sling on the top. “This is a hoof jack,” she explained to Claire. “I find some horses like resting their hoof on it better than just having it between my thighs, especially the rear hooves where they can’t see what’s going on. It doesn’t move like I do.”

  Jorge pushed Gunpowder’s right rear up against the wooden wall of the treatment area. He positioned himself to lean against the horse with one hand on Gunpowder’s back and the other against his left flank. Gunpowder’s ears went flat, and he turned his head to eye Jorge.

  “Brittany,” Jorge said, “give him one of those carrots.”

  Brittany clicked her tongue to get Gunpowder’s attention. She held a mini carrot on her palm under his mouth. He gobbled it up greedily. His ears went forward as he sniffed around for more.

  “Try now,” Jorge said to Louise.

  She ran her hands down Gunpowder’s left leg again. The horse twitched and shuffled. But when he tried to move and couldn’t, he seemed confused.

  “Another carrot,” Jorge said. He murmured soothing words to Gunpowder and steadied the horse with his hands.

  The second carrot, Daisy’s presence, and the soothing hands and words of the familiar people around him finally settled Gunpowder. Louise was able to slowly lift his left leg and lay it on the hoof jack. She still had his leg between her thighs and her shoulders up against his thigh to help hold him in place.

  “This one’s not as clean.” She flicked some mud clods off the bottom of his hoof with her pick.

  “He hasn’t let us get to it,” Jorge replied. “I’ve been working on getting him calmed down first.”

  Louise started pulling on the old horseshoe with her pincers. “Hmm, something’s stuck on this nail.” She grabbed her pick and scratched at the top of the nail until something came free.

  “What is it?” Claire asked.