Chapter 4

As we entered the barn, I could tell that Carl was overcome with curiosity over what was going on with his dad. “Carl, what your dad and Suzy are doing is as old as horses themselves. Horse trading isn’t really an addiction, but it is definitely addicting. It’s like gambling. And people pride themselves on their skills. Right now, your dad is having the time of his life, and so is Suzy. We would be in the way if we stuck around.”

I could see that my explanation was only partially accepted. “Talk to your dad about it later. If you’re lucky, he might start teaching you how to trade. It’ll be to your benefit. Now, tell me about these ‘quads’”

The barn was clean and well laid out. A concrete pad had been poured and covered the floor. To the right was a group of horse stalls. Only 2 of which were occupied. Carl confirmed that it was a make-do vet infirmary. And that the two horses had some colic issues. On the left side was a motor pool set up, including a lift and what looked like a complete machine shop. Parked in one of the stalls was the dune buggy that Carl had been driving yesterday. In the stall next to it were two miniature versions. Single-seat go-cart type machines.

Way off to the side, in a dusty corner, where the unused and discarded equipment was parked and forgotten was a carriage. Something that I had only seen pictures of. An English Phaeton. You could almost imagine the king and queen being carried down the county fair parade. Pulled by a matched pair of blacks. It was dusty and dirty and needed a lot of TLC.

“These are the quads,” Carl called me over to the doodlebug go-carts. “We used to use them around the farm. But then dad bought the UTV. That’s the heavy lifter nowadays.” He then walked me over to the dune buggy. “It helps out a lot if we need to move a lot of things into the backcountry. It took us a while, but we’ve got trails all through the ranch. You can do anything with a quad that can be done with a horse.”

It was difficult, but I stopped myself from laughing. “If you say so, son. Me, myself, I prefer horses. Have you ever rigged a buckboard? Or a surrey? You might want to learn. Sometimes young women can get downright giddy about a midnight surrey ride. Or a horse-drawn picnic down by the swimming hole. Not to mention a buckboard hayride some autumn evening.”

Stepping back over to the quads, I asked, “What about these things? Do they have any use other than running around, having a blast?”

“We have 3 of those, but Donny wrecked one of them. He was going too fast when he tried to turn. Fortunately, he wasn’t hurt. He was wearing his helmet and chest protector. But dad grounded all of the quads until we all go through a safety refresher.”

“Which you got around to tell your dad we were here?”

“Yeah, sort of. I’ve already taken dad’s refresher. I didn’t want to rub Donny or Amber’s nose’s in it.”

“Well, you’re a good brother, Carl. Let’s see how your dad and Suzy are doing?”

It was evident that a successful conclusion had been arrived at. There was a mason jar and empty shot glasses on the table.

As I approached, I called out, “Well, you ready to go home?”

Suzy’s face dropped. “Not yet, Matt, how about we get an early start tomorrow?”

“You’ve got it, honey.”

Later that night, she asked me, “Well, are you going to ask me how much?”

“Nope.”

“What do mean nope? Aren’t you curious?”

“Nope, not a bit. Your horse, your money, your decision. And none of my business.” I rolled over and put my head on her shoulder. “Babe, how could I do anything other than trust you?” Sleep came easy that night.