“Well, what do you think?” he demanded proudly.
“She’s wearing a blanket. I can’t even see her.”
“We’ll fix that. I’ll get her all gussied up and lookin’ fancy. Here, hold her while I tip the driver.”
I took the lead rope and studied the mare’s face as Luke reached for his wallet and walked off with the horse hauler. Judging by what I could see of her, the pictures hadn’t done her justice. Her head was broad and flat between dark, intelligent eyes, with a slight dish to her profile that made her look delicate. But offsetting that delicacy were wide, powerful jowls and a toned, muscular neck. Her long mane was white, with slight waves that would probably tangle into fairy knots if Luke didn’t keep it braided. She was only seven, but she must have turned gray early because the remaining dapples on her neck were a vague silver, almost invisible. She’d be pure white in a couple of years.
“Hello, pretty lady,” I said as her paper-thin nostrils drank in the scent of my coat sleeve. “Do I smell like dinner? Don’t worry. It’s coming soon. I’m sure Luke is going to feed you like a queen.”
Her ears, shorter than most mares’, swiveled at my voice. One of the geldings in the paddock whinnied at the new arrival, and she gave a low whicker in reply. Luke came back right about then.
“Alright, all settled. Don’t you go gettin’ sweet on my mare, now. I’ll take her in.”
I chuckled and gave Luke his lead rope. “So, what did you pay for her?”
“You don’t want to know.” Luke walked away, whistling Woody Guthrie’sI Ain’t Got No Home. “Come on,” he called when I didn’t follow. “This mare ain’t gonna brush herself, and you need something useful to do.”
“Ihadsomething useful to do. You made me stop.” But I went after him anyway because that was what I always did. Luke came up with a hair-brained idea, and I followed.
He clipped her into the cross-ties in the middle of the barn aisle, stripped her blanket off and gave a low whistle. “I think I got what I paid for.”
I ran a hand over the mare’s wither and down her broad back. She had so much “shape,” as the old horsemen say, that she might have been set in marble. Perfectly exquisite. “You sure might have. Hope she rides as good as she looks.”
“Oh, yeah. She’ll put us in the money next summer, little brother. You wait and see. And in a few years, I’ll have me a string of handsome gray colts that everyone from here to Wyoming is gonna be chasing after me to buy.”
We both stepped back, sweeping our eyes over her conformation. Her legs were clean and straight, all her angles and proportions were just about perfect, and she looked in the bloom of health. “A touch on the heavy side,” I said. “That’s about all I can see wrong with her.”
“She’s been standing around for six months. We’ll get you in shape, huh, old girl?”
“What are you naming her?”
“Gal who had her called her Pinkie.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah. Her papers say Royal Diamonds or something like that. Any ideas? You’re the creative one.”
I scratched my chin. “It’s not very creative, but she looks to me like a ‘Duchess.’ Classy, regal girl like her? That’s what I’d call her.”
“Works for me. She cost enough to be named Duchess, that’s for sure. You know what she needs, though? Some of that purple shampoo they use on the sheep to make them all sparkly white.”
“Luke, it’s December. She doesn’t need a bath.”
“Just her tail. I wanna show her off to Bud Wilkins next weekend, and that tail needs some love.”
I blew out a sigh and rolled my eyes again. I did that a lot when I was with Luke. “I was going to make a run to the feed store soon. I guess I could pick some up for you.”
“Good, because you still owe me for that cup of coffee I bought you last week. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“I’m going right now?”
“Unless you want to help feed and bed her down.”
I shook my head. “Guess I’ll be back in a while.”
Jess
“That will be thirty-two fifty,” the cashier said.