Chapter 6

"There's the livery stable," Shaylee said as she pointed off down the last side street.

Maeve turned the wagon and marveled at the size of the place, it was twice the normal size.

"Wonder why the place is so big?" she muttered. "Look at all of the stock and the size of the barn! Something's wrong, here, but I just don't see what it could be."

A portly, that is to say huge, man strode out of the barn door when he heard the wagon roll up.

"Hello, hello. What can I do for you fine fellas?"

"We want to sell this wagon, and get two kitted out saddle horses."

The man's eyes narrowed and he began to inspect the wagon.

"Well, it's old but you seem to have cared for it real well. What about the mules and tack?"

"Everything goes," said Maeve.

"This here wagon is serviceable enough. Why are you selling it?

The two women had made up a cover story and hoped that it rang true to the liveryman.

"Our Ma and Pa started a homestead back east a ways but they and my younger brother got the fever. They all died one after the other. Me and my brother decided that homesteadin' wasn't for us, so's we headed out. We worked here and there and got us a bit saved, and hoped that we could make a deal with you on this wagon. It's too slow. We want to travel faster."

"Why you boys in such a rush?" asked the man suspiciously.

"'Cause we want to get to them gold fields before all the good claims get taken."

"Ah ... Well, then. How 'bout you fellas give me fifty dollars and this lot and I'll give you any two of those horses in the corral with all o' the needed tack?"

"How come you got such a big place and all of that stock here in this out of the way place?" asked Shaylee equally as suspicious as the fat man.

"Hahahahahaha! Out o' the way it may be for now, but the Army just built a new fort twenty miles north o' here and the railroad is coming soon. They all need horses and I mean to be ready. In fact most o' that bunch o' horseflesh is on the way to the fort later this week. It seems that the best route for the railroad is near here so this here place is gonna be a boomin' town soon."

Maeve looked him for a full minute before she said, "Mister, if all that is true you are going to need freight wagons and mules for your livery business, and soon. That means that you're being a might greedy asking for fifty dollars over this complete wagon with mules and tack included. I think a more fair price would be ... say ... ten dollars over the wagon."

"Whoa my good fella! Ten dollars is nowhere near right! Let's say forty five dollars, what do ya say to that?"

"I say fifteen! Let's face facts here. These are young, strong, well-trained mules, and this is a solid wagon! It's good for heavy freight. It's not some light farm wagon."

The man rubbed his chin and tried to look sour but it was evident that he was having a good time dickering with Maeve. He walked around the wagon again, stopped to look in the mouths of each mule. Then he ran his hands up and down each animal's legs before returning to the battle.

"Forty! And I can't say fairer than that."

"Let's have us a look at the saddles and the rest of the gear that comes with the horses?" asked Maeve as she climbed from the wagon.

"Sure," he said as he pointed at a side door to the barn. There's three setups just to the left o' the door."

The three of them went into the barn but had to wait for their eyes to adjust to the dim interior light. Maeve went right to the saddles that the man had mentioned, but Shaylee scanned the room.

She spotted an odd-looking black saddle with light stitching, a higher than normal cantle and wider swells. However, the most striking thing was the array of Conchos that decorated the saddle. Another notable thing was that the saddle was made for a smaller person, someone just about Shaylee's size.

Maeve, unaware of Shaylee's desire for the odd saddle, said, "These two are adequate."

"NO! I want that one," said Shaylee with determination as she pointed out the dust covered black saddle.

The others looked to where she was pointing.

The man laughed her to scorn and said, "That piece of shit? Some Mex came in on a nice gelding with that outfit, and then proceeded to get killed in a gunfight. That thing is too damn uncomfortable. If you want it you can have it free of charge. I just couldn't toss it in the dump, but no one would buy it, and it is just taking up space."

"Any other tack that matches the saddle?" asked Shaylee.

"Sure. No one around here likes that flashy Mex stuff."

Shaylee turned to the man and said, "We will give you forty dollars, the wagon, the mules and their tack for two of the best horses you have ... and I don't mean any from that bunch in the main corral. I saw some very good animals in that other corral. The horses will be kitted out with one of those saddles, she pointed at the ones Maeve approved of, and the Mexican outfit. Take it or leave it."

"Well, now ... I..."

"TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, MISTER! We don't need to do this. We just wanted to travel faster. We can just as well keep our rig and try our luck in another town."

Maeve's jaw dropped and the liveryman took a step backward. Shaylee had that look that she'd had when dealing with the town's people, just before setting the black powder off. It was a fierce, hard, lizard eyed look that makes the blood run cold. At that moment, the man knew that he was in the presence of a stone cold killer, and he wanted none of it!

"Ah ... Er ... Sure, that's fine with me. I'll get the rest o' the Mex's tack while you go cut out the horses that you want," he said as he went into the next room.

Maeve came over to Shaylee and whispered, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'll explain later. Let's go get our horses."

The two walked out of the barn and over to the other corral.

Right away, Maeve could see that her sister was right, these animals were far and away better than those in the other corral. The two women picked up lariats from one of the fence posts and opened the gate. The horses got a bit jittery for a minute as the two entered but settled down quickly.

Shaylee walked around and inspected every horse. Then she noticed that the back of the corral was sectioned off, and was occupied by a beautiful animal, though it did have a strange conformation. It had a long back and a somewhat tubular body. It was totally unlike any breed that she had ever seen in her life.

It was the color, though, that drew her eye the most. There was a distinctive metallic sheen to the chestnut coat of this horse.

Shaylee went to the fence as if in a trance. This was the horse, her horse. She felt it in her heart. She reached toward the animal, and made clicking sounds with her tongue.

The horse just stood looking at her for three or four minutes. Its intelligent eyes seemed to be judging Shaylee. Then the beautiful beast nonchalantly walked up to the woman, and put its head on her shoulder. It huffed several times, getting her scent. The two stood, transfixed, as if bonding for forever.

Meanwhile Maeve was doing her thing ... feeling the legs of the horses, and trying to find an animal that fitted her. Finally, as she moved through the herd she saw a spotted horse. It was the kind that the Nez-Percé Indians bred. This particular horse had a dark coat from the head to the end of the ribcage. Then it had a white rump with large brown spots.

This was a compact, strong looking horse, and Maeve fell in love with her. The horse acted very calm when Maeve put the rope over its head, and led it from the enclosure.

The liveryman was coming up as she brought her horse out of the corral, and he said, "Ah, you chose Jozy. She is the sweetest horse I have ever owned. You made a good choice, there. I have all of the tack ready. Say, where's your brother?"

"In there looking for a horse."

The man looked up and as the herd milled about he caught sight of Shaylee standing with her horse.

"Well, I'll be jiggered," said the man as he leaned against the fence and watched in awe.

Maeve turned and asked with concern, "What? What's the matter?"

"That horse is what's the matter. No one has ever been able to get near the beast since his owner died, two years ago. The man was a Rebel officer and got shot up bad. He's called Traveler 'cause the General got him from someplace in the far east of Europe. General Jubal came here because he said the Yankees ruined the south.

"He was a nice enough fella, but the lead bits in his body finally kilt him. The horse like to went crazy. It wouldn't let anyone near to the old man's body. They almost shot the poor beast until I managed to rope it and drag it here. It was crazy with grief and the only way we could feed the thing was to use a long stick to shove the food and water buckets into the corral. In the last two years no one has been able to get near it. And now, here your brother comes along, and the thing just about makes love to him. Absolutely and totally amazing."