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“You’ll ride again. I just hope it won’t be like this.” Catherine smiled at him.

“Me, too,” he agreed.

The doctor looked down at Piglet. “My that is a find. You know these bones get dug up frequently. As far as the ocean. Makes creating pastures a bit of work. You all live by the mountains, am I right?”

“We do,” John answered.

“You pick up stones and more stones. From here to the ocean it’s stones and bones. Curious. People have theories. I just bend over and clean it all up. But if I had a dog like this fellow, he could do it.”

“Where are you located, Doctor?” John asked.

The middle-aged man extended his hand. “Alfred McKay. Goochland County. Sam Udall hired me to attend to the races. It’s been quite a day.”

“What happened to the jockey in the second race?”

“Ribs. Usually it’s a broken arm or ribs. Occasionally a leg. When a man falls off a horse his shoulder often hits the ground first. At least I hope it does. If his head hits he’s either dead or confused. Often permanently confused. I’m grateful no one was killed today, no horses, either.” He smiled at Jeddie. “Like I said, young man, bones of iron.” He put his hand on Jeddie’s shoulder. “I have never seen anything like that. Ever.”

“Nor have we,” Charles chimed in, then extended his hand. “Charles West, formerly of His Majesty’s Army.”

“Ah. You saw the error of your ways.” Dr. McKay beamed.

“I did, Sir, and I also saw this beautiful woman. What man would return across the ocean?”

“Indeed,” Dr. McKay agreed.

“John Schuyler.” John held out his large hand.

“Major John Schuyler. Yorktown?” His eyes lit up.

“The same.”

“I am in your debt, Major. We are all in your debt.”

John blushed. “Doctor, I served with good men and I served under Lafayette. God was with us”—he paused—“and the French.”

The men laughed, including Ewing, who had been silent, deeply concerned.

As the doctor left, the Garths started packing up. They would make it halfway home by sundown. Stay at an inn called The Ordinary. As they put tack away, brought out soaps, buckets, the oats they brought so Reynaldo would be eating what he ate at home, DoRe strode over.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“DoRe, if you did know anything, lay low,” Jeddie said.

“I didn’t. He’s a fool. A damned arrogant fool. But I understand his wanting to escape Big Rawly. I do,” DoRe replied.

Jeddie nodded.

Catherine, seeing DoRe, walked over. “Is she hysterical?”

“No, just vicious.”

Catherine nodded. “You know she’ll offer your stable help money to rat on one another?”

“She will, but I’ll give William credit, he kept his cards close to his chest. I hate what he did to Jeddie and I hope he doesn’t kill Black Knight, a good horse, but I can’t fault him for running.”

Catherine leveled her luminous eyes at him. “Do you hope he makes it?” When DoRe sensibly did not reply, she did to her own question. “I hope he does, even though I share the same anger you do. He could have killed Jeddie.”

“I’m tougher than that.”

“Of course you are.” She turned to Jeddie, pale, still sitting on the trunk, his arm in a sling.

Races finished, money settled up, the Garths headed west. Piglet sat in the phaeton with Charles and Rachel. He would not relinquish his giant bone.

Catherine, John, and Ewing rested in the four-in-hand coach. Jeddie refused to sit in it even though asked. He sat with Barker O. while Ralston and Tulli perched behind them holding onto the low rail.

What a day.

37

February 13, 2017

Monday

Pirate, his handsome head on his two huge forepaws, watched at the back entrance to Tazio’s studio, formerly Gary’s. Beginning to feel part of the group, he played with Tucker, sometimes with Mrs. Murphy, but gave Pewter a wide berth. Observing her he, young though he was, knew this was the right decision. The gray cat, immobile, stayed at the small opening under the baseboard.

“Give it up.” Mrs. Murphy sighed.

“No. I’m keeping her at bay.”

“She might not even be in there.” Tucker lay next to Pirate.

“I’m not taking chances.” Pewter sounded tough.

“If she were in there you’d see eight eyes, red from the reflected light,” Mrs. Murphy told her.

“I don’t know how big her nest is. It could run the entire way along the baseboard. She’s a monster. A prehistoric spider.”

“Really?” The puppy was impressed.

“Oh, yes. She probably scared dinosaurs. Her kind has been dangerous forever. She is so big she covers a saucer. Big.”

Tucker whispered, “Demitasse.”

“What’s demitasse?” the puppy wondered.

This brought immediate response from the gray cat. “Don’t listen to Bubblebutt. She undermines me all the time.”

“Bubblebutt? Parts of you are so fat they’re in the next zip code,” Tucker fired back.

“I ought to come over there and bloody your nose, but I can’t abandon my duty.” This was uttered with a superior air of responsibility.

As Pewter grumbled about everyone, Harry sat on the floor, notebook in her lap, one of Gary’s file boxes open.

“Harry, how many times are you going to be in here fooling around with those boxes?” Tazio good-naturedly asked.

“Almost done.”

“I’m in no hurry for you to leave. In fact, it’s good to have company.”