To Whisper Her Name (23 page)

W
hat do you mean she’s
missing
, Jimmy?” Ridley strode through the stable to Seabird’s stall. Empty, sure enough. He felt the tension in him building. What else could go wrong this week? The past few days had been nothing but frustrating. First, a colt had been stillborn. Two more mares were due to foal any day but showed no signs of starting yet. Then he’d had to fire a man for stealing. If it weren’t for Olivia’s careful record keeping, he might not have found out about the man’s thieving for some time.

And on top of everything else, he’d received an invitation to dine with the Hardings on Saturday night two weeks hence, and there was no way he could refuse. Even Rachel, when he’d mentioned it to her yesterday, had said he had to go. And he found himself dreading it, for several reasons. He’d seen how the Hardings dressed, and he didn’t even own a suit. Didn’t want to waste the money on buying one either, not with saving to go west. He’d told Rachel as much, and she’d said just to wear his best. But that frustration seemed like nothing compared to his current predicament.

He sighed and, seeing the worry in Jimmy’s eyes, tried to rein in his anger. “How long has she been gone?”

“I took her to the corral this morning like you told me, sir.” Jimmy worried the outside seam of his baggy trousers. “Then I come back inside to get a bucket of water for her, and Mr. Grady asked me to —”

“Mr. Grady?” Just the name set Ridley’s teeth on edge.

“Yes, sir. He had me run something up to the general’s office for him. Important papers, he said. And when I come back —”

“Seabird was gone,” Ridley finished for him.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

Ridley retraced a path back outside, Jimmy close behind. Ridley
stood and searched the meadow and the mares’ corrals, then the lower pasture as far as he could see, remembering how Seabird had cleared the corral fence a couple of weeks ago. Finally, when the mare was his, she went missing …

Yet she couldn’t have gone far. Even the day she’d jumped the fence, she’d only wandered a mile or so. He’d find her. And while he knew Grady Matthews was foolhardy, he wasn’t cruel. At least not to animals. Uncle Bob wouldn’t have kept the man around if he was.

Ridley saddled a mare and headed in the direction Seabird had run the other day. But she wasn’t in the lower pasture. He circled the meadow and came up back behind the servants’ cabins, then on around the west side of the house. But still, no sign of her.

He rode on to the stallion stable and adjoining corrals, remembering the man who had put Seabird in a stall in there on his first night. Uncle Bob always made a point of saying horses remembered things, but surely the mare wouldn’t have gone there.

Ridley dismounted and checked inside, but none of the stable hands had seen her. He walked to the back where they kept studs before they were taken to the breeding shed. He spotted Uncle Bob in a stall working with Vandal, a lead stallion. Two other men assisted him, one of them Grady Matthews.

Ridley nodded to the other hand, while watching Grady for the slightest difference in the man’s behavior. “Uncle Bob, Seabird’s missing. None of you have seen her, have you?”

Grady laughed beneath his breath. “Don’t tell us you went and lost your prize mare already, Cooper.”

“Hush up, Grady.” Uncle Bob gave the man a warning glance, then turned back to Ridley. “She ain’t in her stall?”

“No. Or the corrals or lower pasture.” Ridley explained what had happened. “It’s not Jimmy’s fault.” He cast a glance at Grady, almost certain he’d caught a glint of culpability in the man’s eyes, but he couldn’t be certain and knew better than to accuse without proof.

Uncle Bob handed the lead rope to Grady. “We be finished with Vandal in a few minutes, then we help you look for her.”

The stallion, impatient, tried to rear up as they led him away, but Grady held him steady.

Uncle Bob looked back. “We all know Miss Birdie can jump a fence, Ridley. But she ain’t no rogue mare. Ever how she got out, she ain’t goin’ far.”

Ridley nodded, agreeing. Still, something about it just didn’t sit right. Seabird had motivation to jump the fence that day. She’d wanted to get away from him then. But today …

He walked on outside and looked out over the meadow, searching for her again.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.”

He turned and felt the first bright spot in days.

Olivia frowned. “I was about to ask if you were having a good day, but I already see the answer to that question on your face.”

Ridley rubbed his stubbled jaw. “I’m sorry.” He tried to smile. “It’s just been a rough week. And Seabird’s missing.”

“Your mare?”

“Jimmy put her in the corral, but when he came back a few minutes later, she was gone. It’s not his fault,” he rushed to add, having seen her and Jimmy talking and laughing together this week. He gathered she was fond of the boy. So was he.

“I’m sorry, Ridley.” Her gaze swept the meadow.

The very fact that she was looking for the mare — that she cared enough to — eased his burden a little. She was so pretty. The way her dark hair was pinned up in the back and sort of … rolled up on the sides. A few curls hung down here and there, and he wished he had the liberty of touching them. Of touching her.

“Ridley,” she said, still looking out over the pasture. Her eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that your mare?”

Turning, he spotted Seabird trotting up the meadow inside the fence, and he felt a weight lift. “Yes, it is. She must have decided just to take a little run around the —”

Then he saw another horse — Jack Malone — galloping up behind her. The stallion nipped Seabird’s withers, and she bucked at him. Unwilling to be put off so easily, Jack Malone caught Seabird by the mane and tried to edge her off to the side, pinning her in by the fence, but Seabird reared.

Recognizing the telling behavior, Ridley felt the weight that had lifted just moments earlier come crashing back down.

“You’re telling me that you knew the mare was not only capable of jumping the fence but that you saw her do it?”

Ridley met General Harding’s stare. The anger simmering in the
man’s voice belied his calm expression, and the close quarters of the general’s office swiftly grew more so.

“And yet you still chose to leave her alone in the corral.”

“General, every thoroughbred at Belle Meade is capable of jumping a —”

“A simple yes or no response will suffice, Mr. Cooper. You left her alone in the corral.”

Ridley took a deep breath. “Yes, sir. I did.”

News of what had happened spread quickly, so he’d had no choice but to inform General Harding. Uncle Bob’s examination of Seabird had removed any doubt about what had happened in the pasture. Jimmy had hovered close around Seabird’s stall, watching Ridley with guilt-ridden eyes. But it wasn’t the boy’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, it seemed. Although Ridley still wondered about Grady Matthews.

General Harding gave a heavy sigh and crossed to his desk chair. But he didn’t sit down. “You’re certain Jack Malone covered her?”

Ridley nodded. “But what we don’t know yet is whether —”

“She’ll be with foal,” Harding finished in a clipped tone, irritation edging through. “Which we will know soon enough, Mr. Cooper. I’ll have her checked in a month, and if she
is
with foal, you’ll have two choices. Either the foal will be mine upon birth —
if
it lives.” Ridley almost winced at the harsh reminder. But the possibility Seabird might lose another foal had already crossed his mind.
If
indeed the covering had taken. “Or you’ll pay me the one hundred dollar stud fee. And the fee will be payable
in full
upon confirmation that the covering took. Though I have a good mind to demand payment right now, like I do with everyone else.” Harding gripped the back of his chair and took a deliberate breath, then let it out slowly. “If you cannot pay the fee then, Mr. Cooper, you’ll legally assign the foal to me. Is that clear?”

Ridley knew the options were fair, under the circumstances. “Perfectly clear, sir.”

Harding studied him for a moment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were intentionally trying to make a fool of me, Mr. Cooper.”

Caught off guard, Ridley faced him square on. “No, sir. That’s not the case at all. What would give you cause to think that?”

“Well …” Harding eased down into his chair, his laugh not the least humorous. “The fact that you’re here so short a time and not only have you made foreman, but you now own one of my thoroughbreds.
A horse I’d ordered to be put down, mind you. But that apparently has been miraculously healed and now goes sailing across fences to mate with my champion stud that, incidentally, I have publicly advertised as having no open bookings until this fall.”

The grounds for the man’s frustration were becoming clearer. Ridley remained silent, letting the general’s words and their steam hover in the air like mist until they finally drifted downward and dissipated in the quiet. Whatever Ridley said next — and he needed to say something — he needed to tread carefully. Remaining at Belle Meade was even more important now than it had been before. And for reasons other than what had initially drawn him here.

“General Harding, I assure you, sir … None of this transpired with the intent of bringing embarrassment upon you.” Ridley worked gently to refute the general’s statements without causing further offense. “I’m grateful for the opportunity you gave me to be a foreman here at Belle Meade and also for the deal we struck together for Seabird, which again” — he saw a glimmer of what he hoped was respect in Harding’s gaze —”is something I greatly appreciate. I learned a lot from Uncle Bob through working with Seabird. And I would never have been able to afford a horse like that on my own. But the truth remains, General. What happened today was not by my design. Uncle Bob told me you’d planned on breeding Seabird again this spring. But after the accident with the carriage and seeing how skittish she was, I had already decided to wait another year to breed her, thinking that would be best.
Knowing
it would.”

“And yet, Mr. Cooper … here we are.”

“Yes, sir, General.” Ridley looked across the desk at him. “Here we are.”

For a long moment, General Harding didn’t say anything. Then he leaned back in the chair and motioned for Ridley to sit. Ridley did as indicated, though not wanting to. He didn’t welcome further discussion on this topic or any other. Not with William Giles Harding. Though he’d come to respect General Harding to an extent, familiarity between them was dangerous territory.

“I sense a likeness between us, Mr. Cooper. You strike me as a man of integrity. And honor. One not afraid to work hard for what he wants. Those are traits I admire.”

“Thank you, sir. They’re ones I hold in highest regard as well.”

Harding steepled his hands beneath his chin. “Yet it strikes me
how very little I know about you. And I make it my business to know everyone who works here at Belle Meade.”

Ridley felt a ripple of warning. “That’s understandable, sir.”

“I place great trust in Uncle Bob as head hostler and have never been given reason to question that trust. So I’m wondering … What did you do in so short a time to cause him to speak so highly of you?”

Wanting to be anywhere but in that office right now, Ridley forced himself to try to relax and to think of something truthful to say. “I’m not sure that I know exactly. Other than … Uncle Bob is a unique man. I think he tends to bring out the best in a person, sir. I think he’s done so with me, at least. He demands a lot, that’s for sure. But he also makes a person want to try harder, to do better. And that’s a unique quality in a man.”

Harding regarded him. “I agree wholeheartedly. But he doesn’t always have that effect on people, Mr. Cooper. I think it depends on the man. The night of the fire, the night Uncle Bob first spoke up about you … That was your first day here at Belle Meade, was it not?”

Quickly seeing where the general was going with this line of questioning, Ridley worked to stay two steps ahead. “That’s right … Except I think you mean the night of the fire
after
the afternoon when Uncle Bob asked me to muck out every stall between here and Mississippi.” Ridley laughed softly. “Then to cart in at least forty bales of fresh hay. Almost a full day’s work without even the promise of getting a job.” He smiled, finding it came genuinely when he remembered everything Uncle Bob had asked him to do that day. “I didn’t even know if there was a job open. All I knew was that I’d heard about Belle Meade and about General Harding’s thoroughbreds, and I’d come a long way to work here. And to learn, if given the chance.”

Satisfaction slowly spread across Harding’s face. “Don’t feel too badly, Mr. Cooper. Uncle Bob uses that ploy to weed out the men from the boys, so to speak.”

“Does it always work like it did with me?”

“Only with men worth their salt, Mr. Cooper.” General Harding leaned forward. “I hear you’ve set your sights on the Colorado Territory.” The general laughed. “Don’t look so surprised, Mr. Cooper. Uncle Bob mentioned it. And don’t worry, your job isn’t in danger. My last foreman was only going to stay a few months before he headed to Missouri. And that was seven years ago.”