Taking the Reins

“Mary Anne can’t pick up fifty-pound feed bags,” Hank said.

“I can pick up anything you can,” Mary Anne snapped.

“Sure you can,” Hank snickered.

“This is not a contest,” Charlie said. She noted that Hank’s snide remark had brought Jake’s gaze up, but he said nothing. Jake’s fuse might be long, but she suspected it would burn hot once somebody lit it. If he hadn’t had some propensity for violence, why would he have joined the army?

She continued. “The horses that are not actually on the driving roster are in pasture. That includes four Percheron mares, two of whom have foals at foot. We’ll take a look at them after lunch. One shire mare is pregnant with a late foal, the other is barren this year. So, with luck, you’ll get to see a baby born sometime soon. If we can catch her having it, that is.”

“Can’t you tell when it’s coming?” Mary Anne asked.

“Theoretically. But mares are sneaky. We’ll bring her into the foaling stall when she starts showing signs she’s close to labor, but she’ll probably wait until the darkest, stormiest night of the year when everybody’s back is turned before she drops her foal.” She nodded. “Okay, people, let’s get to it.”

* * *

MARY ANNE STACKED fifty-pound bags of feed right along with Charlie and the men. Every time she passed Hank, she tossed her head at him. He grinned and shrugged.

Midmorning a rusty three-quarter-ton truck with square bags of shavings loaded precariously on its bed pulled up outside the aisle door.

“Hey, Charlie, you got room to stack these shavings in the same place?” The middle-aged man who stuck his head out of the truck wore a straw Stetson over a face that looked as tough as if it had been professionally tanned but not stretched afterward.

“Man has more wrinkles than a Shar-Pei,” Sean whispered.

“Hush,” Charlie whispered back. Then she said in a normal voice, “Drive on down the aisle to the end as usual, Bobby.”

“We got any help? Where’s Maurice and DeMarcus?”

“On vacation. Jake and Sean here will help unload. Guys, this is Bobby Holzer. He owns the sawmill down in Slayden that bags our shavings.”

Bobby nodded and pointed to the figure beside him in the shadows. “I brung some help just in case. This here’s one of my summer helpers.” He put the truck in gear, drove down the stable aisle to the far end and parked by the storage area where the few remaining bales sat waiting for the new load to be added.

The white-blond hair of the kid who climbed from the passenger seat was partially covered by a St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. Unlike Bobby, who wore baggy bib overalls over a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the boy had on distressed jeans stretched tight over thigh muscles the size of hawsers on an aircraft carrier, while his arms and torso strained the stitching on his green polo shirt. He stood at six-six or six-seven and probably weighed well over three hundred pounds. None of it was fat. “Aidan, this is Miss Charlie Nicholson, owner and manager.” The giant nodded.

“Whoa!” Sean whispered.

Bobby smiled and winked at him. “Aidan’s starting at tackle for Mississippi State this fall. Coach sends ’em to me for the summer. Tells ’em working in the sawmill builds muscles.”

“He’s got enough already,” Sean said.

Charlie introduced Sean and Jake. Bobby shook hands. Aidan didn’t.

He looked sulky at the prospect of unloading and stacking an entire truckload of sixty-pound bales, but he hopped up on the back of the truck and worked his way to the front without comment.

“Give them a hand, please,” Charlie said to Sean and Jake. “I’m off to the tack room to teach Mickey and Mary Anne how to use the rein board.”

Jake climbed up on the tailgate and waited for the first bale.

The moment Charlie turned her back, Aidan swung it at Jake’s chest so hard he would have knocked him off the back of the truck if Sean hadn’t balanced him from the ground. His grin said he’d done it on purpose.

“Knock that off, Aidan,” Bobby said equably. “Sorry, Jake. He gets above himself sometimes. Likes to show off how strong he is.”

Aidan shrugged and lobbed the next bale high and easy. Jake fielded it and passed it down to Sean.

After that Aidan settled down, and the three men established an easy rhythm from Aidan to Jake to Sean to the shavings shed. After all the bales were off the truck, Bobby directed Aidan to finish stacking them.

As he passed Sean, Aidan asked, “Hey, man, that some kind of phony hand?”

“Nope. It’s real plastic,” Sean answered cheerfully. “A gift from the United States Army.”

By the time the stacks were complete, all three men were soaked with sweat and Aidan’s designer jeans were filthy. Bobby rose from the front step of the truck and joined them. “Hot work.”

Sean’s glance at Jake said “none of which he did.”

“Y’all got any cold sodas?” Bobby asked. “I’m flat parched.”

Aidan slouched past him toward the front of the truck. “Aw, come on, Bobby, let’s go get some lunch.”

Wiping her face with her scarf, Mary Anne came out of the tack room and strode toward them. She wore a sleeveless muscle shirt that revealed the puckered skin that ran from the side of her head to her glove. The sheen of sweat made the scars look red and raw.

She noticed Bobby and Aidan a minute before they noticed her, and wheeled back toward the tack room.

“Ooo-eee,” whispered Aidan as he watched her retreating rear in its tight jeans. “Hellooo, mama.”

She froze in midstride, turned and strode back toward them.

Jake heard Bobby catch his breath.

Aidan gaped and looked away. “No way. I don’t mess with ugly chicks.”

Jake saw Mary Anne stiffen and heard Sean groan.

“Jake—leave it,” Sean cautioned. “Jake!”

Jake ignored him and moved into Aidan.

A moment later, the big man lay flat on his back.

“Here now,” Bobby said. “Both of y’all take it easy.”

Aidan was big, but he was fast. He came off the ground in a lineman’s crouch, prepared to tear Jake in two.

“Back off, fool.” Sean stepped between the two men. Aidan brushed him out of the way.

Jake felt Sean’s hand on his arm and shook him off. He blocked the fist Aidan swung at his jaw, twisted, bent and thrust. A moment later Aidan was back on the ground, looking surprised.

“Stay down!” Sean snarled at him.

Aidan gasped. “What’d I do?”