Barker O looked up as Catherine softly walked in, a driving bridle in his hands.
“Miss Catherine.” He held the bridle for her to see. “English leather.”
“Yes.” She knew that, of course.
“It’s expensive and we are missing two bridles and missing one for the plow horses, too.” He didn’t mention that the money he kept in his stable coat was also gone.
“What? No one has been in the stables. No visitors of late. What’s going on?”
“Ralston stole them.”
“Oh, Barker O, he can’t be that stupid.”
Barker O blew air out of his nostrils. “Stupid. A liar. I gave him a pretty good beating. He’s been sent back to his cabin. His momma can deal with him.”
“You did this yesterday? I heard there was a mess at the stables but I couldn’t get to you, as I had promised Charles and Rachel to go to St. Luke’s. I had no idea it was this serious.”
“He’s no good. Lies all the time.”
“Has he stolen before?”
“Could have lifted something from someone or even carried off tools, but no reports. But this has been going on for a couple of weeks now. He doesn’t care.”
“Why?”
“Money. He can sell it and make money. Especially the English bridles and the English steel bits. The best in the world. No doubt about that. Jeddie accused him of stealing. That’s when the fight started. I heard the noise, came over. Separated them and Ralston turned on me.”
“He is stupid, but what does he want with money? He has what he needs, doesn’t he?”
Barker O hung up the bridle. “He thinks he’s going to be rich as a jockey. I can’t watch him. He’ll steal again and I’ll beat him again but it won’t do any good. What if he steals a horse?”
At a race down on the levels outside of Richmond on the James last spring, William, a rider for Yancy Grant, lent to him by Maureen Selisse, rode off with Black Knight, Yancy’s good horse. In the process William pulled Jeddie off Reynaldo, who was already a step ahead of Black Knight. Jeddie broke his collarbone and William and Black Knight disappeared. The horse showed up later, skin and bones with his front teeth knocked out. Yancy, having lost money on the race and with Maureen turning on him as well, couldn’t help the animal he loved. He asked Catherine to take Black Knight, which she did. He stood out in his paddock sleek and glossy. She had to feed him mash because he couldn’t tear up grass effectively without front teeth. He’d had the reputation of being a handful, but at Cloverfields he was sweet, interested in the goings-on.
Catherine knew Barker O was telling her to get rid of Ralston. He could not say that outright.
“Hasn’t this come on rather suddenly?” she asked.
“His mind is on women. But that’s not—” He thought a moment. “Miss Catherine, I think William is back somewhere. And I think Ralston knows and the two of them are up to something.”
“William! Why in God’s name would he come back? We all thought he made his run to freedom.”
“He did. But I think he’s back for money. Big money. William knows Sheba ran away with jewelry. And Maureen’s people hate her. My feeling is William is back to steal from Big Rawly. He must know Maureen is gone for a while. I think Ralston, well, I think they are talking.”
This stunned Catherine. “Where could he be? It’s not as though people don’t know who he is.”
“Lot of places to hide at Big Rawly. And there’s the caves down by Ivy Creek.”
“If I tell Father, he’ll sell Ralston. He doesn’t like to split up families but no one can afford a thief and troublemaker.” Barker O didn’t reply and she continued. “But if we turn him out, literally, give him a chit so he can pass, he might lead us to William. William broke Jeddie’s collarbone. I don’t mind getting even.”
A big smile crossed Barker O’s face. “I expect Jeddie will take care of that if he can.”
“Does DoRe know?” she asked.
DoRe was Barker O’s counterpart at Big Rawly. The horsemen at all the estates knew one another, kept in touch, most especially because of breeding. A good breeding outcross could be a step up for the man who suggested and oversaw the match.
“Haven’t seen him, but he might have a notion. It’s hard to keep these things quiet. You know, Miss Catherine, it’s not so much talk as it’s a feeling. Someone notices a pretty girl sneaking off at night or someone notices a young man falling asleep on the hay wagon. A feeling.”
“Yes. Much as I hate to lose tack, I don’t want any harm to come to our horses. I will never forget Black Knight when he arrived. Never. You know, Barker O, I believe I could kill someone over hurting a horse.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Barker O would be happy to squeeze the life out of someone, but if that someone was white, he’d hang for it even if right. If it were another slave, maybe. He’d seen Ailee when she and Moses were helped by Bettina and Father Gabe, the healer, as they hid during the winter down in the caves. You don’t do a woman like that. Seemed like nothing good ever happened at Big Rawly.
“What I will do is talk to my husband and to Charles. They may know how we can trim Ralston’s wings without endangering the horses or losing more tack. I will go to them first and then tell you. Thank you for telling me.”
“Anything that has to do with the horses,” he simply replied.
Catherine left him, hurrying up to her father’s office, for she knew he had materials for her and was anxious for her to read them. She thought it might be another letter from Baron Necker from France. Whatever it was, she also figured she’d be in the office all day. Well, she’d talk to her husband and brother-in-law after that. One way or the other, they’d figure out what to do about Ralston.
But Ralston beat them to the punch. He was already out the gate.
15
April 19, 2018
Thursday
“I hate waiting on them,” Pewter moaned.
“It’s easier to feed them first since the trash can is out on the covered porch. Our food is in the cupboard. Anyway, that’s the way she likes it.” Mrs. Murphy watched as Harry closed the kitchen door leading out to the porch, a waft of cold air sneaking in with it.
The slender woman hurried over to the cupboard, opened the door, pulled out a delicious-smelling bag of kitty food with a hint of bacon. She put this in two ceramic bowls on the counter, names also on the sides. Then she opened a small can of special moist food, spreading that into each bowl.
Pewter’s face was in the bowl before Harry could wash out the can. Then she made herself a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold tea that could wake up the dead.
Fair, called out early as a mare was foaling, had left her a note. Harry could sleep through most anything. She never heard him go.
The TV, new, on the wall, presented the weather. At least no snow was forecast, but neither was it going to be much warmer.
A blip on her cellphone caught her attention. She noted that Susan had just called her. The landlines proved better as Harry was at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Cell service depended on where you were on the farm. For the best reception, she’d need to go outside. She picked up the old wall phone with the long cord, dialed, and sat back down to her tea.