“I’ve been putting the salve on him like you showed me. He’s still having trouble eating because of the quills that were stuck in his mouth.”
Garrett was surprised by that. Mrs. Taylor told him, “You should’ve seen him, Mr. McCray. We couldn’t tell where the quills ended, and Lucky began. It was terrible.”
Colt added, “But once again, he lived up to his name.”
Silas smiled. “I didn’t think anything could be worse than him taking on One Eye.”
Colt replied, “Me, either.” He stood. “Okay. He’s healing up well. Lucky, no more cougars and definitely no more porcupines.”
Lucky whimpered as if agreeing.
“Silas, keep putting the salve on him, and give him soft things to eat.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is he having any other problems?”
“No, sir.”
Colt looked to Mrs. Taylor for verification, and she agreed with her son. “Nothing else that I can see.”
“Good. I’ll be back to check on him next week.”
Mrs. Taylor escorted them to the door. “Thanks, Doc. Nice meeting you, Mr. McCray.”
Walking back to the buggy and the gelding, Garrett asked, “Lucky tangled with a cougar?”
“Yes, last year, and saved Silas’s life. One Eye’s claws ripped open Lucky’s rib cage, but he lived up to his name. He’s a very lucky dog.”
Garrett thought the tale would be a great addition to his story on the doctor. He mounted up. “Where to next?”
“Ed Prescott. Life-long friend, and Spring’s business partner. He’s also an engineer. We all grew up together. A mare of his lost a foal while I was in Rock Springs. Ed does a good job of doctoring his animals but wants me to check the mare, too, just as a precaution.”
Garrett was anxious to meet the man. He assumed Spring held him in high esteem if they were partners. Of course, being a male, Garrett fleetingly wondered if the two had ever been lovers, but put that out of his mind because it was really none of his business. He did envy the fact that Prescott obviously knew more about Spring than Garrett ever would.
As Garrett rode beside the buggy through the gates of the Prescotts’ Sweet Heart Ranch, he was impressed by the dozens of horses of all sizes and coat colors filling the vast pens. Some galloped while others milled about. The tall brown-skinned man who waved and walked to meet them as they arrived had long raven-black hair braided down his back.
Colt made the introductions. “Ed Prescott,this is Garrett McCray. He’s a newspaper reporter from back East. McCray, my good friend, Ed Prescott.”
Garrett shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Same here.”
It was Garrett’s first encounter with what the back-East papers called an Indian, and nothing about him fit what he’d read; not his speech, manner, or college training. Given how slanderous and insulting the press often portrayed the Colored race, he was again humbled that he’d even considered their reporting to be truthful.
As he followed the two men to the barn to see the mare, Prescott’s home came into view and its grand beauty took his breath away. Built with timber, boulders, and more glass than Garrett had ever seen employed on a residence before, he wanted to immediately quiz Prescott about its construction and design. However, his curiosity wasn’t the point of the visit and he didn’t know the man well enough to pump him with questions. Maybe sometime in the future he would.
“She’s still grieving,” Ed said as he and Garrett watched Lee examine the black-maned chestnut mare named Maribelle. Ed added, “She wouldn’t let me remove the foal’s body until last night, and she won’t leave the stall.”
Garrett had never known horses grieved.
Lee asked about Maribelle’s bodily functions and appetite since the stillbirth, and Prescott supplied the answers. After a few more questions and further examination, Lee stepped back and put his instruments away. “Physically, I’d say she’s okay. You know to keep her away from the stallions for the time being. See if you can get her out into the fresh air. Might help with the grieving.”
“Will do.” Prescott walked over, gave the mare a long hug, spoke softly to her, and they all left the barn.
Prescott asked Garrett, “How long are you going to be with us?”
“Just a few more days.”