Part 4
Elaine tucked the twine into her pocket and went to meet it.
Before the first driver had climbed down, a second rig appeared on the road. Its aluminum trailer was dented along one side and clean inside. Three more pickups followed within the next half hour.
By ten, about twenty people stood along the paddock fence. They held coffee cups, compared notes, and watched the youngsters move. Somebody had brought a thermos of stronger coffee than Elaine’s, and it was being passed from hand to hand.
She saw Lester leaning beside a man she didn’t know. Keene hadn’t come, but two visitors mentioned his name. Elaine couldn’t tell which had done more talking, the vet or the feed-store owner. She was too busy answering questions to ask.
A man in well-cut riding clothes rested his forearms on the fence beside her. His boots had cost more than anything she was wearing, though he seemed unconcerned about the mud on them.
“I’m Nathan,” he said. “I train event horses a couple of hours north of here.”
Elaine gave him her name. Across the field, Dottie’s black colt checked his speed, brought his hind legs beneath him, and spun to follow the bay filly.
Nathan watched without speaking until the pair made another circuit.
“There was talk about a breeding mistake,” he said. “I’m beginning to think somebody told it wrong.”
“I chose those mares for that stallion.”
He nodded toward the colt. “Plenty of power there. He’ll have something to jump with when he grows up.”
“He’s sensible to handle.”
“That’s what matters to me.” Nathan looked toward the barn. “The story I heard about their sire wasn’t encouraging. Supposedly a breeder unloaded a dangerous horse on you.”
Elaine brushed a flake of peeling paint from beneath her thumb.
She could have told him about the damaged stall door. She could have described the hours spent waiting with a book open on her knees. Instead, she pointed toward Havoc’s pen.
“He’s right there.”
Nathan looked at her, then walked over.
Havoc lifted his head from the hay. He came to the fence at an easy walk and smelled the hand the man offered. Nathan rubbed his forehead, then reached behind one ear.
The stallion lowered his head. His eyes drifted shut, and he leaned into the scratching.
Elaine stayed by the sale paddock. She watched a visitor lift the bay filly’s foot and set it down again. The filly remained beside him, apparently hoping he had something else interesting in mind.
When Nathan returned, he was taking a checkbook from his jacket.
“Give me a price on the black colt.”
“Eleven thousand.”
She said it before she could decide to ask less. Around the county, that was roughly twice what a good quarter horse weanling might bring.
Nathan glanced at the colt, then at the bay filly.
“Twenty thousand for those two. I can pay you now.”
Elaine looked across the field long enough to see the filly put her nose against the colt’s shoulder.
“All right.”
Nathan set the checkbook on the broad gatepost and began writing.
After that, Elaine barely had time to finish one conversation before another buyer wanted her attention. People who had been standing back came closer. They asked to see the youngsters led, asked about the mares, asked what she had fed them and how long she had been handling their feet.
She answered what she knew and didn’t pretend to know what she couldn’t.
Before noon, all five were sold.
The checks came to forty-three thousand dollars. Elaine counted them once in the tack room, then again because she had lost her place at the second one. The immediate arrears could be cleared. The tractor could be repaired. With ordinary care and no new disaster, the farm had enough breathing room for another three years.
She folded the checks into an envelope and buttoned it inside her coat.
Loading took patience. She wouldn’t let anyone rush a youngster onto a ramp, and nobody argued. The black colt stopped once to examine the seam between ground and trailer. Elaine gave him a moment, asked again, and walked him forward.
Nathan took the lead from her inside.
“I’ll let you know how he comes along,” he said.
“I’d like that.”
The last trailer left early in the afternoon. Elaine shut the gate and stood with her hand on the chain while the sound of its tires faded.
The mares called from the adjoining pasture. They had been weaned from their foals for weeks, but they still knew which young voices belonged on the other side of the fence. Dottie went to the corner nearest the drive and called again.
Elaine stayed outside until the mares began to settle. One lowered her head. Another followed. Finally Dottie tore up a mouthful of grass and carried it several steps away from the fence.
Only then did Elaine walk over to Havoc.
He came to meet her with hay caught in his forelock. His nose moved along her sleeve and stopped at the pocket where she kept the peppermints.
“You’ve had a quiet day,” she said.
She unwrapped one and held it out. He took it carefully, whiskers brushing her palm, and began to crunch.
Beyond his shoulder, sunlight picked out the bare patches on the fence rails. The hay shed still sagged along its middle. She would have to get someone to look at that before another heavy snow.
For an instant she turned toward the barn, ready to tell Daniel how the sale had gone. Then she looked down at the torn candy wrapper in her hand.
Havoc pushed his nose beneath her elbow.
“Voss called yesterday,” she told him. “Saw the advertisement. Offered sixty-five hundred to take you off my hands.”
The horse worked the last of the peppermint between his teeth.
Elaine scratched beneath his mane, where the coat lay thick over an old scar.
“I said no.”
He lowered his head until she could rest her forehead against his jaw.
“He botched my order,” she murmured. “Best thing he ever did for me.”
Havoc turned his face into her coat and rested his broad forehead against her chest. Elaine folded the wrapper into her palm and left her other hand on his neck.