Читать книгу Mystery at Saddle Creek - Shelley Peterson - Страница 14

7

PUTTING UP THE HAY

Tan awoke with a start. Where was he? He had to get back to his tent ... it was already morning and he would be seen.

BIRD AWOKE THE next morning. It was Wednesday. With all the goings-on the night before, she hadn’t slept well, and her head felt thick. She lay in her bed and opened one eye. Julia had deserted the futon and was sprawled across her bed.

Outside, the sun was shining through the bright green leaves and the birds were chirping cheerfully. Without disturbing Julia, Bird slid out from under the covers, picked up her clothes from where she’d dropped them the night before and tiptoed downstairs.

In the kitchen, Lucky thumped his tail. His handsome brown face wore a sheepish expression.

Let me guess. Bird gave him a look. I’m too late?

One minute too late. I couldn’t help it.

Lucky, you’ve got to tell someone when you have to go out.

I don’t like waking people up.

We’d rather wake up than clean up.

Lucky hung his head.

Bark or whine like other dogs. You’re too polite for your own good.

I’ll try.

Where is it?

What?

The mess.

Lucky looked under the kitchen table and Bird’s eyes followed. She sighed. And do you still have to chew things? Your baby teeth fell out long ago. No more excuses.

I’m ashamed, girl. Let me out?

Bird patted him on the head. The little guy was worried. I’ll clean up everything, never fear. And Hannah won’t miss the oven mitt. She opened the kitchen door and Lucky bounded out. But instead of heading for the bushes like usual, he tore off across the field sounding a sudden, shrill bark.

Bird followed his streaking form and saw what was causing his panic. A human figure was slinking away along the fence line, followed by Sundancer, prancing tensely with flattened ears. It was the wild man. Cody was stalking him, too, from the other direction.

With a clutching in her gut, Bird ran across the lane to watch. The small coyote was creeping out long and low. Step by step he neared the far corner of the field where the man was heading. Cody wouldn’t hurt anyone unless he was attacked, but he sure wouldn’t hesitate to scare someone. Bird watched as Cody sprang, and she cringed at the man’s scream.

Sunny reared at the far corner of the fence, then spun and kicked out. Cody reappeared from the woods a moment later, and Lucky came bounding toward her. Bird took a deep breath. The man was gone.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t come back, but that man had been around far, far too much. Who was he? What was he up to? Why did he keep showing up? And was he harmless, or harmful? Bird thought about it for a moment. He did such odd things, but for some reason she wasn’t totally afraid of him. Should she be? She considered her reaction. He was creepy, and she was suspicious of him. She didn’t like him lurking around, but she was more curious than afraid. Bird shook her head. This needed more thought.

Lucky reached Bird, wagging his tail wildly. I scared him away, girl! I’m a good dog now!

Yes, Lucky. Good dog! Bird gave his chin a firm scratching.

Sunny trotted up to the fence. The wild man. He was here all night. In my shed. I licked him.

You did what?

Never mind. He’s scared, but he’ll be back.

Why do you say that?

Just a feeling.

Is he dangerous, Sunny? Does he want to hurt us?

Maybe. Maybe not. He’s crazy. You can’t tell what he’ll do.

He’s weirding me out.

Me, too, Bird. Are we jumping this morning?

Good idea.

Bird went back inside the house, cleaned up Lucky’s messes and grabbed her helmet and chaps. Cliff was in the barn when Bird arrived to get her saddle.

“You’re up early, Cliff. It’s only six o’clock.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get moving.” Cliff spoke quietly, much more so than usual.

Bird stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, nothing. I don’t want to worry you.”

“I’m already worried. Tell me.”

Cliff reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “If you’re already worried, this is not going to help.”

“When did you get this?” she asked, taking the note from him.

“It was on my door. I found it when I let Boss in for the night.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No.”

Bird read the words aloud.

“Cliff Jones, you are duly warned. You are going to feel what it’s like to get a tire iron across the head. Be afraid.”

Bird handed the note back. “Cliff, you’re not the only one who got a letter like this.”

“Who else?”

“Pierre Hall. He came over last night looking for protection. He wouldn’t call the police so Hannah did. You have to, too.”

“I thought about it, but they won’t believe me. They already think I’m the bad guy. They’ll figure I wrote it myself.”

“Cliff, listen to me. You’re innocent! How can the police prove that if they don’t know what’s happening?”

Cliff took a moment to consider Bird’s advice. “They can’t. You’re right. I’ll call them.”

Bird smiled grimly. “It’s the right thing. Meanwhile, I bet Philip Butler got one, too. And the wild man would’ve got one if they knew where he lived.”

“Who’s ‘they,’ do you think?”

Bird tilted her head. “Very good question.”

That question was still on Bird’s mind as she and Sunny worked in the ring. Who had sent the notes? They walked, trotted and cantered in circles, keeping a steady rhythm. It was boring work, but essential. To be ready for the show ring, a horse had to be fit and limber, and respond willingly to leg aids. Abby Malone had told Bird to think of the jumps as obstacles to a steady course on the ground. It was a helpful piece of wisdom, one that helped calm her nerves when she saw the size of the jumps.

Where are you, Bird? Your mind is all fuzzy. Sunny’s thoughts broke into Bird’s own. What’s up?

I’m wondering who threatened Cliff and Pierre.

Oh. Can we jump now? Or go for a ride? I can’t take much more of these circle exercises. My muscles are aching and I’m dizzy.

Bird shook her head and laughed out loud. Why don’t you complain a little more? It may be hard now, but you’ll thank me Friday at the show.

You’re heartless.

You’re complicated.

Complicated?

What other horse argues with its rider like this?

What other rider argues back?

Enough, Sunny! Concentrate.

As Sunny and Bird were finishing up their flatwork, a beige Toyota turned into their lane — Liz’s mother. It was early; it seemed as if nobody had slept well. Regardless, it was as good a time as any to find out if Phil had gotten a note like Cliff ’s and Pierre’s.

Bird waited patiently for Patty Brown to let Liz off at the barn. She made her move as the car drove back down the drive.

“Hello, Mrs. Brown,” Bird called out from Sunny’s back as the car slowed.

“Morning, Bird.” Patty looked tired.

“Are you all right?” asked Bird.

“Not really.” Bird saw a tear forming in her eye.

“I’m sorry.” Bird knew this was her opening, and she jumped in. “But it seems that you’re not alone. Cliff isn’t all right either. A horrible message was nailed to his door last night.”

Patty’s eyebrows shot up. “No!”

“It was a threat. And Pierre next door got one, too.”

“What did they say?”

“They were the same. Something awful about a tire iron.”

“And that he should be afraid?”

Now Bird knew for sure that Phil had received the same note.

“Philip got home late and found one stuck under the knocker,” Patty continued. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that I know ...”

Bird nodded. “You’re absolutely right. The only thing to do is to call the police, or else whoever’s threatening people will get away with it.”

Patty nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll call them now.”

Bird waved goodbye to Patty and continued up to the wash-stall with Sunny, deep in thought. Who had written the notes, she wondered again, and why? It was upsetting.

By the time Paul left for work and Hannah and Julia arrived at the barn, Cliff and Bird had finished cleaning the stalls and had organized the hayloft. They were expecting twenty-four wagons of hay—two were already on their way, and would arrive any time.

“I brought extra gloves and old cotton shirts,” Hannah said. “Cliff, is there water in the tack room fridge?”

“Lots.”

Cliff went out to the drive shed to get the conveyor belt. He pulled it with the tractor and parked it on the big orange tarpaulin, which was spread on the arena floor to catch the loose hay.

Liz rolled her eyes. “My luck that you’re bringing in the hay on a day that Mom drops me off and l ... leaves me.”

Julia laughed wickedly. “You have no idea how tough it gets. You get sweaty and prickly and so hot you get woozy. Strong men weep.”

“And that’s supposed to b ... be encouraging?”

“You don’t have to help, girly-girl.” Julia laid down the challenge with humour in her voice.

“Actually, it’s girl-power time,” said Bird. “Let me see your muscles.”

Liz flexed her skinny biceps.

“First class. You’ll have no problem. There’s a reason why no men are around when the hay shows up.”

Cliff popped his head around the corner. “Oh, really?”

Bird grinned. “Besides you!”

The hay wagons started to arrive, loaded with more than two hundred bales each. The hay farmers would drop off a full wagon and return home with an emptied one, which would go directly back to the field and get filled up again. To keep things going, the Saddle Creek team needed to have each wagon unloaded by the time the next one arrived.

Hannah and the younger girls positioned themselves in the hayloft. Bird stayed below with Cliff. Cliff plugged in the conveyor belt and it started up, making a racket of clickity-clacks. He and Bird began to send the heavy bales up to the loft.

The work in the loft was easy at first, carrying and stacking the bales tightly against each other. First row lengthwise, then next row across. Soon, though, as more wagons were unloaded, and the stacks got higher, it got much harder. Cliff sent Bird up to help, and continued the ground job himself. As long as the wagons kept coming there would be no break. Old farmers joked that their break was in winter, when nothing could grow.

Between wagon number five and wagon number six, Hannah brought out a huge jug of lemonade. They all sat outside on the front bench, grateful for the rest and the slight breeze.

“Your face is all r ... red and sweaty,” said Liz.

“You need a mirror,” retorted Julia. “You look like a lobster.”

“And your shirt is stuck to your body! Gross.”

“So’s yours! You should talk, Liz-ard.”

Cliff laughed. “Save your energy. Another load is coming.”

Sure enough, the rumble of another hay wagon could be heard from down the road. The girls groaned.

“Drink up and man your stations.” Hannah screwed the lid on the lemonade jug and put on her sweaty gloves.

Bird waited until the others had left for the loft. “Aunt Hannah,” she said quietly. “The wild man was around again this morning.”

Hannah looked startled. “When?”

“Around five-thirty, when I came out to ride.”

“What was he doing?”

“Running away as fast as he could. Cody and Sunny chased him.”

Hannah shook her head slowly. “I’ll give the police a heads-up. Which way did you see him go?”

“Toward the back, along the fenceline in Sunny’s field. Cody and Sunny gave him a good scare. And Lucky got in the act, too.” Bird knew that Lucky would want Hannah to think well of him. “Oh, and Phil Butler and Cliff both got those horrible threats, too, like Pierre.”

Hannah was startled. “How do you know that?”

“Cliff told me about his note this morning, and Mrs. Brown told me when she dropped off Liz. They’re both going to tell the police.”

Hannah looked at her watch. It was just after twelve. “I’ll call Paul. He’ll want to know.”

“What will I want to know?” Paul had come up behind Hannah, finger on lips to ensure Bird’s silence. Hannah spun around to face him.

“Paul! You scared me.” She gave him a hug. “Cliff and Phil got the same letter that Pierre got, and the wild man was here early this morning.”

The broad smile disappeared from Paul’s face. “Not good.”

“It feels like we’re right in the middle of this,” said Hannah. “And I don’t like it.”

“Look, Hannah, I’ll take over hay duty. I’m free for a couple of hours unless an emergency comes up. You go call the police. Tell them everything. These are important pieces of the puzzle.”

Hannah stripped off her gloves again and handed them to Paul. “Five down. Knock yourself out.” She smiled briefly and strode down to the house.

“Come on, Bird,” said Paul. “Round six.”