“Who is to say he didn’t hitch a ride. Target once rodeon Clytemnestra’s back,”Cora said.“That’s one story,anyway. None of us ever saw it, but he sure did lose us lastseason back in the apple orchard and we had him, had him fair and square.”
“We’d see tracks. We’d smell the vehicle.”Dragon had no time for speculation as he moved right along the fence line.
Tinsel, moving left along the fence line, eager, got a snootful of fox scent.“He’s here!”
Dragon, turning left in midair, raced to the young hound.“It’s Comet, all right.”Hounds opened, their voices a chorus of excitement.
Sister waited for Shaker to clear the hog’s back, then she took it as the field followed.
The scent line—a magic trail of pungent delight—curled just above the snow. The temperature, forty-two degrees now, allowed it to lift off, releasing the musky aroma.
The hounds passed through the woods as Sister found the old deer trail. Moving at speed, the dips and rises in the earth barely registered in Sister’s brain. Her only thought was to keep hounds in sight and not crowd Shaker, blowing as he rode, encouraging his pack.
A ravine cut crossways. The fox cleverly dipped down, using the rocks to foil his scent. He didn’t go all the way down into this steep cleft in the earth. Hounds overran the line, yelped with frustration, and then began the patient process of returning to where they first lost the scent to look again.
Darby surprised everyone by examining the first bunch of rocks, some large and smooth covering twelve square feet, little crevices packed with blue ice. He picked up the line, charging up out of the ravine. He was so intent on his task, he forgot to tell the others.
Ardent watched him, ran over to the rocks, checked it out, then he, too, picked up the line.“Here we are, buddies. Here we are.”He called up to Darby,“Wait for thepack, Darby. Can’t go off on your own like that, evenwhen you’re right. Steady there, fellow.”
Darby slowed as Ardent caught up to him. Within seconds Dragon, Dasher, and the lead hounds drew alongside.
“Good work,”Cora praised him.“Smart to wait.”
Darby, grateful to Ardent for saving him a tongue-lashing from Cora, put his nose down, lifted his head, and let out a song of happiness.
Hounds ran back through the woods, back under the fence line while the field searched for the closest jump, then back through the large snowy field, back to the base of Hangman’s Ridge, where the fox disappeared. No scent. No anything. No tracks.
“This makes me crazy!”Tinsel wailed.
“He’s around,”Trident said with conviction.
Hounds milled about, confused. Diana noticed a thin trickle coming off the side of Hangman’s Ridge, a trickle spilling over black jagged rocks. Underneath that was a mass of elongated blue ice that looked like icicles had melted a little, then refroze, creating this imposing mass. The fox had gotten under the trickle, following it down, water washing scent away.
By the time she picked up his trail Diana knew Comet had put a half-mile ahead of her. But still, scent is scent. She opened. Hounds moved around the base of the ridge, moving southward and then turning west into the long floodplain that Soldier’s Road bisected.
The field became strung out, thanks to the footing, which had tired some horses more than their riders realized. They’d been pushing through the snow for an hour and a half now. Even Jennifer couldn’t keep them all together; Bobby Franklin soon overlapped the rear of the First Flight, which was their problem not his.
Sister raised her crop over her head then let it fall. Cloud Nine, quite fit and with a marvelous ground-eating stride, opened up, passing stragglers, passing through the middle of the field, finally coming up behind the knot of hard riders behind Sister. He passed Izzy, who was falling behind. Came alongside Marty and Crawford, both doing quite well. Cloud Nine stretched out, and Sam figured, why fight with the horse? He was moving out, loving it, and at least there were no bottlenecks. He hoped he could rate the big thoroughbred if he needed to. They had been working on that.
But Picasso had other ideas, flattening his ears as he heard Cloud Nine come up. Clay moved out of the way and up, hearing the hooves behind him. Ronnie, better mounted and really a better rider, asked more of his horse and got it, moving up until he was next to Edward.
Walter fell back a little, figuring Rocketman didn’t need to get into a race. Then, too, this was his first season with this horse, and he wanted to know him better.
As Cloud Nine came alongside X and Picasso, the paint let out an ugly cow kick. Kicking is bad enough, but a cow kick—which is to the side—is nasty. The hooves, packed snow dislodging in a squished clump, shone dully in the cloudy light. Picasso just missed his target.
“Idiot!” X, his face dark, looked at Sam. “You’re a groom. Stay to the rear!”
“You don’t fool me, you fat pig. I know you and Clay will cream the insurance money. Cream it like you creamed Mitch and Anthony,” Sam spat back, his voice loud.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Sister turned, hearing the commotion.“Hark!”
This had no effect on the two as Sam bumped Picasso, like a ride off in polo, before the massive paint could kick out again. Then Sam moved ahead of Xavier, but not before X caught him around the neck with his thong, choking him, yanking him clean off his horse.
Clay, the strain too much, lost it when he heard Sam’s brazen challenge to X. He didn’t stop to separate the two. He blew past Tedi and Edward, came alongside Sister, reached down with his left hand, and grabbed Lafayette’s reins.
“Hey!”Lafayette hollered.
Sister, cool, dropped the reins.“I’m sorry it was you, but I thought you’d take the bait.”
Clay twisted in the saddle to hit her across the chest with his right hand, but he had to swing across his own chest. He couldn’t get a square blow. Sister squeezed Lafayette to go faster. He was a faster horse than Clay’s, but Lafayette, head turned toward Clay, couldn’t lengthen his stride.
“Steady, steady,” Sister spoke to her beloved horse.
Dropping her stirrup irons, she swung both legs back, then up for momentum, reached forward with her hands, using Lafayette’s neck for balance. She half stood, both feet now in the middle of her saddle. Then she leapt over behind Clay.
Clay dropped Lafayette’s reins, but the beautiful gray kept running alongside, calling to hounds,“Cora! Diana!Delia, Nellie, hounds, stop, stop! Sister needs you.”
Nellie, at the back, heard him.“Hold up, hold up!”She bellowed for all she was worth.
The hounds slowed. Cora turned to see Sister, behind Clay, one arm around his neck, the other straining forward for the reins, which she couldn’t reach.
Savagely, Clay elbowed her. Her legs were so strong she didn’t weaken her grip on his horse even though she had no stirrups.
Tedi and Edward, on fast horses, moved close to the battling pair. The field watched in horror as their master clung to Clay and the horse.
She jerked Clay hard around the neck; his hands came up, and his horse skidded, hind end going out behind him, sliding along the snow. The two humans rolled off, fighting.
At six feet tall and 150 pounds of lean muscle, Sister was a formidable opponent. But Clay was six two, middle-aged, and 200 pounds. He was getting the better of her, but she refused to let him go. He reached into his pocket with his right hand, brought out a trapper jackknife, and flicked it open. He rammed his knee in her back and then brought the knife to her throat with his right hand, clasping her with his left arm.
Before he could cut into the jugular, Dragon, the strongest hound, hit him sideways. Eighty pounds of fury knocked Clay off Sister. The knife slid across her throat, blood spurting over her white stock tie, sprinkling the snow as she sank down on one knee, hand to her throat.
“Kill him!”Cora screamed. The entire pack swarmed Clay, tearing through his breeches, biting clean through his expensive Dehner boots, gouging his hands as he instinctively covered his own throat.