Shaker didn’t mount up but walked over to Snake Creek. HoJo was too hot at that moment to drink but he called all the hounds into the creek. They gratefully plunged in, cooling off and drinking.
“I have never seen anything like that in my life.” Sister rode up, laughing.
“I bet if we opened up dens we’d find missing watches and old love letters.” He laughed along with her.
“None of mine, I hope,” Sister giggled. “I can’t write a line.”
“Ha.” Betty rolled her eyes heavenward as Magellan, her second horse and a Thoroughbred, drank. “You probably have a stack of envelopes tied up with powder blue ribbons.”
“Sure.” Sister wiped her brow with the embroidered handkerchief she’d stuck in her pocket. “You know, we’re so close to the farm, let’s hack over. I’ll see if someone can go back to Mud Fence and bring the rig and my truck. I need two warm bodies.”
“Only two?” Shaker finally remounted.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Actually, after this run, a long drink of anything cold.”
“Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that.” Betty was parched and she didn’t want to drink from anyone’s flask as it would only make her thirstier.
Sister turned Rickyroo toward the field, sweat running down their faces and in some cases mascara as well.“Folks, let’s hack back to Roughneck Farm. It doesn’t make any sense to ride all the way back to Mud Fence. Some of your horses are spent.” She noticed that Sam Lorillard’s horse was in splendid condition. The man could train and ride. “If anyone wants to let their horse drink in the creek, go ahead. Use your judgment. Back at the farm you can untack them, we’ll put them on a tie line if they can get along, you can wash them down or whatever, and then we’ll figure out a way to get everyone back to their trailers.”
This process took two hours but it went off without a hitch. Sister brought down drinks for everyone as they washed their horses. Tootie took care of Rickyroo while Valentina washed HoJo. Then the two girls washed their own horses.
Using the old farm truck as well as Sister’s new truck, they piled everyone in the beds. This took three trips, but all went well.
Tootie and Valentina squeezed into the cab with Sister on the last run out since she invited them, too.
“Well, ladies, what’d you think?”
“I’ve never had so much fun in my life,” Valentina effused.
“Me, too,” Tootie concurred.
“For the record, if you need someone to talk to, I can listen. I know things are crazy right now. And if your parents will allow it and Mrs. Norton, if you want to stay here some night before hunting, I’d love to have you. Now, I can’t take everyone in the riding program so we’ll have to discuss numbers.”
“I’m not telling. I don’t want to share,” Valentina honestly blurted out.
“Sister, we don’t all get along. I mean, we can’t stand Pamela Rene.”
“Ah.”
“She’s a good rider and all, but she’s, uh—” Valentina paused.
“Off the chain,” Tootie said.
“I see. Well, let’s just keep it between us, and when you’re ready, let me know. I’ll talk to Mrs. Norton. It’s a nice way to know the hounds better.”
“It’s a nice way to know you better,” Tootie said and meant it, and it pleased Sister.
“We don’t want to sound negative, I mean, about Pamela. She’s real competitive and she’s always trying to buck us off, you know,” Valentina whispered. “She said to Tootie that Tootie thinks she’s better than her, Pamela, I mean. She said Tootie thinks she’s part of the Niggerati.”
“She didn’t say that!” Sister was surprised.
“When I called her on it she told me to shut up because I’m white.” Valentina’s voice returned to normal.
“Well, Tootie, what do you think?” Sister wisely asked the beautiful young woman.
“I think that word in any form ought to be banished from the English language,” Tootie replied without rancor. “She’s mad at me because I wouldn’t be part of the protest. You know, Sister, I do think Custis Hall ought to pay more attention to its history. Those buildings were built, the early ones, by slaves. But I don’t think confrontation is the way to do it. I mean, that is so sixties.”
As they neared the entrance to Mud Fence, Sister slowed even more since the bed was jammed with people.“Anything weird at school? Anything that makes you kind of take notice, apart from what just happened?”
“Like sex perverts?” Valentina put her arm around Tootie’s shoulder.
“Val.”
“I’m not the pervert. I’m in the middle, Tootie, and I’m squishing up next to you on the turn.”
“Oh, sure, Val, I bet you say that to all the girls.”
They made Sister laugh. She felt like a schoolgirl in their presence. She couldn’t say they made her feel young again because she didn’t feel old despite what the calendar said. She had no idea where those seventy-odd years went and she had to remind herself that she had had a birthday in August. Seventy-two! She kept thinking she was seventy-one, as if it much mattered.
“Well, you know,” Tootie said as the remaining trailers came into view, “Mr. Wheatley always finds an excuse when we’re trying on costumes.”
“The old devil!” Sister blurted that out.
“He likes big boobs.” Valentina added that juicy tidbit. “That’s why he likes all those plays from the eighteenth century. He can put everyone in low-cut dresses. I swear it’s the truth.”
“Do you think he touches anyone?” Sister was more than curious, she was slightly worried.
“If he did, we’d know. Really. I mean, we know who’s sleeping with whom,” Valentina bragged.
“I can hardly wait for our slumber party.” Sister laughed but she was beginning to feel that Custis Hall sheltered many secrets. Why had she not thought of it before?
C H A P T E R 1 1
Had circumstances been otherwise, Sister would not have contacted Charlotte Norton. She met her at seven that evening, the campus paths illuminated by the ornate, graceful cast-iron lights installed in 1877.
Teresa had gone home. They sat in Charlotte’s office eating a shepherd’s pie that Sister had made, knowing Charlotte probably hadn’t eaten much that day.
“—three.”
“Well, if that’s all, you’ll weather this storm.” Sister reassured her as three students had immediately been withdrawn from Custis Hall.
“Then Knute came in wringing his hands about the potential for lost alumnae funds and what were we going to do about the position of director of alumnae affairs? I told him we could at least wait a few weeks, then appoint a temporary person. This is no time for a search committee.”
“Wise choice. I’m surprised Knute would be insensitive.”
“Doesn’t mean to be. He’s worried because hiring a security firm put a big dent in his carefully wrought budget and we need so many things above and beyond simple maintenance. Well, I don’t have to tell you. Think of all that goes into running the Jefferson Hunt. It’s the same meat,” she smiled, dark circles under her eyes from exhaustion, “different gravy.”
“I like the decisions. I like the problems even. Not sure I’d like your current problem, but anything, even something as bizarre as Al’s death, does give one a chance to ferret out weakness in the organization.”
“That’s one way to look at it. How we will replace him I don’t know. He had the right personality for the job. And he was so much fun to be around. I miss him more each day as it sinks in that he’s really gone.” Charlotte poured Sister another cup of steaming Constant Comment tea, then one for herself. “Did you want something stronger? Forgive me for not asking sooner.”
“No, thank you. Charlotte, you have so much on you. If there’s anything I can do to help, call me.”
“Well, what I heard today was a barn burner. If I’d been out, that would have restored my spirits.” Charlotte placed the silver teapot on the intricate brass Custis Hall cypher.