“Folks, that’s our day,” Sister announced. “If you want to put your horses in a pasture here or tie them to the hitching post, we’ll have breakfast in the house. You all know Edward has the flu, so there’s no breakfast at After All.” Looking up at the sky she added, “If you want to ride back then drive your trailer here, that’s fine, too. Won’t take you all that long and this stuff doesn’t look like it will let up. Maybe it’s best to go while you can still see. You can also leave your horse, borrow my truck, drive back, and drive your trailer here. You can pile in Betty’s Bronco, too. We’ll fit everyone in.”
Betty helped put hounds up then came outside to take her horse and Tootie’s into the barn. Tootie, still inside the kennels, looked out the window.
“What do you think?” Weevil asked.
“Better I put Midshipman in his stall now. I can drive you back to After All. I’ll call the Bancrofts to see if they mind if we leave the hound trailer there. Driving the hound trailer back then getting back yourself might not be so great, especially if the wind picks up.”
He agreed, so Tootie walked out, taking Midshipman to the barn.
Within forty minutes most of the club members had arrived for the breakfast, their trailers now parked around the barn. A few people not wishing to brave an increasing storm loaded up to drive straight home.
The house, full of people in tweed coats, as was proper for a hunt breakfast, talked, drank, ate, and did not observe Golly snagging a morsel from their plate if their backs were turned.
Raleigh pretended to be appalled. “One of these days you’ll get caught.”
“Never,” the calico bragged.
Gray acted as bartender, with Sam making sure all the ladies had seats. He drove Yvonne today, as he wasn’t riding a horse for Crawford. The two of them chattered the whole time. Sam, marvelous on a horse, answered all her questions and told her if she felt ready they would ride closing hunt together.
Yvonne enthused, happy with the day. “Don’t the grays have sweeter faces?”
Sam nodded in agreement, tonic water with lime in hand, and sat next to her as they recounted the hunt. Other men, including Walter, felt Sam was falling for Yvonne. Walter wondered if Yvonne felt an attraction to Sam. Then again, Yvonne was only a year out of a hideous divorce.
Buddy Cadwalder, tall, lean, moved among the group. He’d come down from Philadelphia to meet with Carter Nicewonder about potential clients for his exquisite furniture, but also to hunt with Jefferson and see Kathleen. He didn’t want to be too obvious. Carter teased him.
As the gathering grew warmer, more laughter, many on their second drink or second hot coffee, a knock on the front door took Sister away from the group.
“I’ll get that, honey,” Gray offered.
“I’m halfway there.”
Opening the door, the cold, stepping over the threshold, she beheld John Wickline, Animal Control, whom she knew from his kennel inspections once a year.
“John, come in here. Have a drink, a sandwich. Helps you to fight the cold.”
Embarrassed, he shook his head. “Sister,” he handed her a paper, “you’ve been cited for cruelty to animals. I must inspect not just the kennels but every single animal on this farm. County regulations.”
“Good Lord. Come in, anyway.”
He stepped in as she called for Gray. “Gray, get him something warm to eat and drink then meet me in the library. If anyone asks, tell them I won’t be long.” She smiled at John. “Everybody in the room knows you anyway, especially those who put in hours at the animal shelter. Come on, John. Whatever this is, we can work it out.”
Gray joined them, plate in one hand, a hot toddy in the other. “This isn’t really an alcoholic drink. The alcohol is burned off. It just keeps you warm.” Then he sat in a chair while John took a sip.
“I shouldn’t really be here but I wanted to give you time, so I could return tomorrow. I’ll bring my new assistant. We really must inspect every single animal on the farm. County ordinance.” He repeated this fact. “It will take most of the day.”
“Yes, it will,” Sister agreed. “At least you will have inspected our kennels, which you do once a year.”
“Because you call me and ask me to do it.” He looked from Sister to Gray. “I know your practices are the best, but if I’m given a summons I must follow up. I am sorry.”
“Am I allowed to know who filed the grievance?”
“No. County rules. Anyone can accuse anybody and not have to come forward, the idea being you would retaliate.”
“They are right about that, John. I’d slap them right across the face.” Then she laughed.
Finishing his drink and his sandwich in two bites, John asked, “What time is convenient?”
“Whenever you get to work. Call me, though, in case the roads are bad. We have no idea how long this snow will last.”
“If it’s bad, we’ll reschedule.” He stood, as did Sister and Gray.
Both walked John to the door, Gray took his coat off the hook. “You’ll need this.” Then he held it so the bulky fellow could slide his arms in.
Waiting a moment, John couldn’t help himself. “You know, there’s no common sense anymore. New people. New people in love with rules. Just no common sense.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Don’t worry about it, we’ll have a good time. As you know, my animals have vivid personalities.”
As he left, Sister and Gray looked at each other. Then she touched his hand as they turned to go back to the gathering.
“It’s possible. Usually there’s an element of revenge in something like this. All anyone has to do is come down the drive to see how healthy and happy all the critters are.”
“You know, honey, I wonder if we can take foxhunting for granted anymore. Can we take anything for granted? Even dog shows?”
“If Miss America has been demoted, I suppose anything can be,” Gray responded.
She laughed. “Was the old bathing suit parade demeaning? I don’t know. Men like to look at women. Never did a thing for me, but then again, if there were a male equivalent, I’d be riveted.” A pause. “I would compare every man to you. He couldn’t possibly come up to the mark.”
They walked back to the dining room, arm in arm. Sister would call Betty, Tootie, and Weevil, asking them to come, be ready tomorrow for whatever. No point taking a chance of someone overhearing about the summons. That old game of telephone demonstrates human nature better than decades of university studies.
Carter was telling Freddie the best small art museums in England. She responded with good small ones in the United States, like the Brinton Museum in Big Horn, Wyoming. She then looked out the window, excusing herself. Best to get home.
As the breakfast unwound, people leaving three or four at a time, each time the door opened, the snow was deeper.
CHAPTER 14
February 19, 2020 Wednesday
“I remember him.” John Wickline smiled, bent down to rub Asa’s ears.
“Retired now. My ‘A’ line is a great one. So now his job is to teach the youngsters their ABC’s. He goes on, walks with them.” Sister looked down at the hound senior citizen. “He crawls into your heart.”
Tootie and Weevil stood at a distance while Sister walked John through the kennels, showed him the outer runs, all of which he knew, but she figured better safe than sorry. Both of them walked outside the high chain-link fence. The Animal Control officer could clearly see the condos, now outfitted for winter. The condos, large boxes, twelve feet by twelve feet by twelve feet, sat up on heavy raised posts. Each condo was insulated as well as being filled with deep fresh straw. The straw was changed weekly. The roofs were peaked. They, too, were insulated inside. In winter a heavy door reduced the opening size to retain heat. A sloping walk-up, thirty degrees, had inch-wide raised strips across the grade to make getting in and out easier, especially if icy. All had a wraparound porch. The outdoor runs fed into the indoor housing but many of the hounds preferred their condos; there were two in each big run. Part of the appeal was a hound could easily walk outside under the stars and inhale deeply. All those night hunter scents filled the air.