Whiskers In The Dark

7

September 6, 1787

Thursday

“Keep your hands off Reynaldo’s bridle.” Jeddie Rice stood two inches from Ralston’s face.

“I’ll do what I want.” The tall young man nearly spit in Jeddie’s face.

Jeddie worked the blooded horses at Cloverfields. The young man possessed good hands, a light, sure seat. Ralston had a long leg but not the sensitivity a good rider needed. Catherine, who worked well with Jeddie, had put the young man, nineteen, in charge of the blooded horses. The two of them would go over conditioning routines, food, turnout depending on season. She put Ralston in charge of the everyday farm horses but not the driving horses or the draft horses. Catherine had a soft spot for the big, gentle drafts.

Ralston resented Jeddie’s authority. Both young men took orders from Barker O, famed throughout Virginia for his uncanny ability to drive horses. No one looked as splendid as Barker O, in full regalia, the reins between his fingers, driving the exquisite Cloverfields coach. DoRe, who drove coaches for Maureen Selisse Holloway, ran Barker O a close second. The two men enjoyed a healthy competition, truly liked each other.

DoRe, a widower, had been quietly courting Bettina, a widow and Cloverfields gifted cook, for the last year. He’d find ways to slip away from Big Rawly. Maureen, difficult as she could be, pretended she knew nothing about the courtship for she needed DoRe. Jeffrey, her younger second husband, built expensive, beautiful coaches, brass lanterns beside the side doors, subtle pinstripes on the coach itself as well as the wheels, color coordinated with the coach body. Maureen had built a large workshop for Jeffrey. She overcame her aversion to trades because he was gorgeous, kind, and did what she told him. Also, his business was thriving and that did bring in money, not that she needed it. DoRe would drive those coaches for the prospective buyer or for the person who ordered the vehicle, taking the time to sit next to whoever their coachman was and give him pointers about the abilities of the coach.

Barker O heard the young men cussing each other, walking into the fancy blooded-horse stable just in time to see Jeddie throw a pail of water in Ralston’s face. Fists flew. Barker O crossed his arms over his massive chest.

Let them settle it, he thought, even though he was tiring of Ralston’s insubordination and sudden awakening to the delights of women, delights Ralston longed to sample.

Ralston made a fool out of himself daily, chasing every girl on Cloverfields and asking embarrassing questions about good-looking slave girls on other estates. So far not one young woman anywhere gave him a tumble, even though he wasn’t bad-looking.

Jeddie, whose shoulder had been broken in a horse race, couldn’t swing as hard as he would have liked on that left side, but his right was good. Ralston ducked low, grabbed Jeddie by the legs, and brought him down. The two rolled around in the aisle.

“Neither of you will ever make a penny as fighters.” Barker O finally spoke.

Both jumped up. Ralston pointed at Jeddie. “He started it.”

“The hell I did. He’s not to touch Reynaldo’s tack or Crown Prince’s. I saw him pick it up.”

Ralston opened his mouth, but before anything came out, Barker O rumbled, “Go on out to the north hayfield. Check the horses and unhitch them, take them down to the creek for water and a bit of shade.”

“Percy can do that.” Ralston pouted. “He’s got the energy now that Bumbee left him again.”

“Do what I tell you, Ralston. You, too, Jeddie. I’ll beat your ass until you bleed.”

They shut up, left the barn, trudging to the north hayfield, neither one speaking to the other.

Barker O watched them as Catherine came into the stable from the other end. She’d just left her husband, who had mentioned it was his commanding officer’s thirtieth birthday. John admired Lafayette tremendously. As he rarely discussed the war, Catherine had lingered at the breakfast table.

“Another disputation? I could hear it walking down from Father’s house.”

“Chalk and cheese, those two.” Barker O smiled at the Mistress. They were both horse people, which created a bond that could occasionally subvert the restraints of slavery. Also, Barker O’s abilities brought luster to Cloverfields stable, and the horses were Catherine’s domain.

“Barker O, I’ve looked at the cut hay, went over to the fields this morning. Good hay. With luck, we’ll put up enough to get us through the winter. Our first cutting and then the second were outstanding. I thought this year would be so-so, but it’s been such a wonderful year.”

“Yes, Miss Catherine, it has.”

“I wanted to talk to you about our oats.”

“Good. Everything’s good.”

“Well, it is, but I’d like you to go with John”—she mentioned her husband—“to Yancy Grant’s. Father has promised to buy all his oats. We don’t really need them, but Yancy has fallen on hard times.”

“Not all his fault,” the large man quietly replied.

“Maureen.” She thought a moment. “Obviously she never read the Bible. ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’ ”

Barker O nodded. “Her husband bears no grudge.”

Jeffrey Holloway and Yancy Grant had engaged in an ill-advised duel after Yancy said some foolish things while drunk at a large party at Cloverfields. Everyone assumed Yancy would put a hole in Jeffrey, who was a cabinetmaker originally, not a countryman like Yancy. Turned out Jeffrey shot up Yancy’s knee and Yancy grazed Jeffrey’s arm. Then, once healed, the men made up. Maureen, however, sued Yancy, drove him nearly to the poorhouse with legal bills, then magnanimously dropped her suit. She even allowed Yancy on her place to visit her husband, to check her horses.

“Today?”

“No. You two can go over tomorrow. Take two wagons. He’ll have everything in barrels. I expect you’ll know how much is to be done once you get there. I hope we have enough room to store it all.”

“I’ll make room.” Barker O looked out to see how far the two had gotten, just in time to see Ralston push Jeddie. “That boy needs a good whipping.”

Catherine followed his gaze. “He’s the type, Barker O, will only make him worse. To add to his list of misdeeds, he tried to kiss Serena and even pulled down the front of her dress.”

“Great day.” Barker O shook his head. “Her husband will kill him.”

“Bettina prevailed upon Serena to forgive him and John and Charles had some kind of a talk with him about women. It should have been Ralston’s own father.”

“I haven’t seen Hodge sober for three years.”

“Nor have I, but he gets his work done.” She smiled at the big fellow. “Never ends, does it?”

He laughed. “No, Miss Catherine. My momma used to say, ‘People are no better than they have to be.’ ”

“She said a lot else as well.”

They both laughed, for Barker O’s mother, elderly when Catherine was a child, said exactly what she thought when she thought it. They gave Momma a wide berth. Catherine wondered if one of the reasons Barker O turned out to be a quiet, thoughtful man was he never got a word in edgewise.

“I’d better go on to the north field to check up on those boys.” Barker O shook his head.

“If they made it in one piece.”