Black Stallion's Shadow (10 page)

Wes gave a mischievous smile. “Of course. Want to come along, Alec?”

“I think I'll stay here. Thanks. Ah, about the Black …”

Wes raised his hand. “We'll get to it later.”

“Later,” echoed Alec. He couldn't help sounding disappointed. Once and for all, he wanted to know if Wes could help the Black.

Wes picked up a leather briefcase from the office and then walked out to his truck.

“Your grandfather do that often?” Alec asked Ellie after Wes left. “Pull guns on people?”

Ellie shook her head. “No, but then, he really can't stand it when Rotasky brings that chauffeur or bodyguard or whatever he is around here. That guy is just a thug.”

They walked over to the porch and sat down.

“If you ask me,” Ellie continued, “we're the ones who should be filing the complaint.”

“How's that?”

“I don't think that generator fire was an accident.”

“What are you saying? You think someone set it intentionally? Why'd anyone want to do that?”

“It's a long story. The bottom line is that we could lose our
Drover Days
contract if things keep screwing up around here. Without that money, we'd start missing loan payments and be forced to sell out. Rotasky would love that. He's trying to buy up the whole canyon.”

Alec had suspected that there was more to the confrontation
with Rotasky. “So you think someone from Sagebrush might want to sabotage
Drover Days
to get your contract canceled?”

Ellie nodded. “All I know is they're the ones who stand to gain the most if we go bust.” They both turned and looked over toward Sagebrush Village.

“Talk to Wes about this?” Alec asked.

“Yeah. He says there's no proof that the fire wasn't an accident and I should forget about it.”

“It's pretty hard to believe anyone would be so underhanded, not to mention criminal.”

“Who knows what Rotasky might do to get what he wants? And if he's just a real estate salesman, why does he need a bodyguard?”

Alec thought about it. “Okay. Let's just say someone is trying to sabotage your contract with
Drover Days
. Besides Sagebrush, who else might want to make trouble for your grandfather? What about the union? At lunch yesterday one of the crew was saying—”

“Just an old rumor. That union business was resolved months ago.” Ellie shook her head. “As if we don't have enough problems. We're just one check ahead of our creditors as it is.
Drover Days
is almost a week behind schedule. To top it off, the Humane Council has been getting on our backs ever since we took on this contract.”

“Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“And time is a luxury we can't afford.”

Poor Ellie, Alec thought. She was desperate to pin the blame for the ranch's woes on someone. If their situation didn't improve, it sounded like Taylor Ranch would be
out of business, or worse. Alec felt a sudden tinge of guilt. He'd been so wrapped up with the Black that he'd almost forgotten about anything else. For Ellie, the very survival of her home was at stake.

CHAPTER 10

A
lec had just finished grooming the Black for the second time that day when he saw Wes come driving up the path in his golf cart. The cart glided to a stop by the corral gate. Wes motioned for Alec to join him.

“How'd things go in town?” Alec asked.

“I'll never figure out those desk jockeys in the front office,” Wes grumbled. “Not only do they expect us to shoot a fight scene with a big buck deer tomorrow, but they still want to go ahead with this PSA the day after.”

“PSA?”

“A public service announcement. This one is for a good cause and all, the Adopt-a-Mustang program, but we're way behind schedule on
Drover Days
as it is.”

“So why do it?”

“A network time slot is already bought and paid for.
We have to have the spot ready in less than a week.”

“Can't someone else shoot it?”

“Not really. The
Drover Days
producers volunteered our services for a reason. They want to patch up our differences with the Humane Council, and they think this is the way to do it. Marty's been complaining to the head of the studio. He's claiming the horses on
Drover Days
are being ‘pushed too hard.' Ha!”

Alec could see where someone might get that impression about Wes. The old cowboy leaned out of the cart and spat out a stream of brown tobacco juice.

“The Humane Council is a powerful organization. If the complaints keep up, they could cause us a heap of trouble. Making this PSA might be one way to smooth things out with them.”

Alec nodded. He had no idea the making of a TV show could be so complicated.

“Hollywood politics,” Wes muttered. “I'll never get used to it.” He snapped his fly swatter at a fly circling his head. “But enough of that. Tell me, how's the Black doing today?”

“He seems fine.” They watched the Black prance around the corral for a few minutes. Then Wes told Alec to saddle the Black and bring him to the driveway so they could start their training session.

Now that the time for the appointment was finally here, Alec felt a little anxious. If Wes couldn't help the Black, what then? Wes watched Alec walk the stallion up and down the driveway. The Black's eyes darted about as he looked around warily. His nostrils dilated. He
unleashed a piercing whistle through the air, a challenge to any and all who could hear it. The challenge went unanswered.

Along the driveway, a shadow fell beneath a towering eucalyptus. It spilled out onto the midpoint of the drive like a pool of ink. The stallion carefully avoided it as he passed by. It still seemed incredible to Alec that a mere shadow could have such an effect on the mighty Black. It was like a mouse frightening an elephant.

Alec walked the Black all the way out to the paved road before turning around again. He grabbed a fistful of mane and pulled himself up into the saddle. Wes gave a wave and Alec put the Black into motion.

Hoofbeats rang through the air,
ta-da-dum, ta-da-dum
. The tempo of triplets quickened to a rapid-fire drumming. Alec pressed himself down onto the Black's neck, blending their movements.

They charged up the long, straight stretch of driveway. Everything was as it should have been. For a moment, Alec thought the Black might not break stride as he bore down on the shadow. But then, a few paces away, Alec felt tension between himself and the Black. As he had yesterday, the stallion flinched and swerved sharply to the left. The sudden move came at the last possible instant and nearly threw Alec out of his stirrups. Only the strength in his thighs kept him from losing his seat entirely.

They tried again. Once more Alec wrapped himself up into the Black's mane. On this pass the stallion balked, breaking stride early and pulling up. Wes watched, leaning against the pasture fence and chewing his tobacco.

Alec rode over to Wes and then hopped down from the saddle.

“Maybe we should take a break,” he said, as he put his hand on the Black's bridle.

Wes popped his fingers. “Hold up a second there, young fella,” he said. “There's something familiar about this, and I just now remembered what it is. Water.”

“Water?”

“That's right.” Wes paused and switched his tobacco chaw from one cheek to the other. “Let me explain. Some time ago, a stuntman friend of mine was having a problem with one of his horses. Smokey was a first-rate stunt horse except for one thing—a fear of water. Even a mud puddle was enough to give him the heebie-jeebies. I got to thinking about it and figured we should try getting Smoke into a pool of water without him seeing it. Then he'd realize there was nothing to fear.”

Alec burrowed his fingers into the Black's mane. “So what did you do, blindfold him?”

“Shoot, no. That would have scared him even more. We took Smoke to a shallow creek near Pete's property and backed him into it. It worked.”

Alec saw what Wes was driving at. “And you think that's the way to go with the Black?”

Wes looked up at the stallion. “Only one way to find out.” He motioned Alec toward the dark splotches of shadow falling across the drive. Alec led the Black to the edge of the shadow, then got up into the saddle.

“Okay, turn him around.” Wes spoke with the easygoing confidence of someone used to giving orders and
having those orders obeyed. Alec did as he was told.

“Now try backing him up, nice and slow.”

Alec cued the Black to step back. The stallion hesitated a moment, then moved. Alec tensed in expectation of the reaction to this experiment. As the Black found himself surrounded by shadow he leapt forward, almost jerking the reins through Alec's hands.

“Let him go,” ordered Wes. “Don't force him. He has to get over this thing on his own.” Alec tried backing the Black under the shade trees again. Once more, when the shadow fell around the Black, he jumped out. Again they tried, and again.

Alec clucked and coaxed; the Black tugged on the reins. It became a game between them. Each time the Black stayed longer and longer in the shadow. Gradually, the rush to leave became less frantic. At last, he relented and stood quietly in the shadow without moving. Alec pressed his face close to the Black's head and whispered. “That's the way, big guy.”

“So far, so good,” Wes said. “Tomorrow we'll try again. If he cooperates, we'll lead him in headfirst.”

“You're terrific, Wes. Thanks.”

“Just remember two things, son. Patience and timing. Rush things and your horse will fall apart on you like a dime's worth of dirty ice. And remember. You're part of the equation, too. Take it easy. Relax.”

Alec laughed. He wasn't the one with the shadow problem. “Me? You think I'm not relaxed?”

“You both look a little keyed up to me. Loosen up.”

Alec smiled. “Whatever you say, Wes.” The Black
tossed his head and neighed. This time, a chorus of whinnies answered from the neighboring pasture.

“Easy,” soothed Alec. The stallion pawed and scraped at the ground. Dropping his head, he sniffed the area of shadow in front of his hooves.

After a short ride out on the road Alec took the Black back to his corral. He felt more positive than he had in days. This was the first sign that the shadow fear might be curable. Alec almost felt like celebrating.

That night Wes sent Mike into town to buy a bucket of fried chicken and biscuits for dinner. When Mike returned, Ellie stayed out in the office to work on the books. Obviously, the local fast food didn't appeal to her the way it did to Wes and Jim.

After the last piece of chicken had been gnawed to the bone, Wes, Jim, Mike and Alec all retired to the front porch. Wes asked Mike to check up on the horses and take a quick look around the ranch. Alec wanted to stretch his legs and went with him.

The air felt warm, quite different from the night before. Branches swayed in the hot, dry breeze that blew in from Sagebrush. Alec heard the light hum of cocktail music and garbled voices, punctuated by peals of giddy laughter. “Sounds like a party,” he said.

“Yeah, every week or so they break out the Frank Sinatra records and really rock out.”

They meandered along the fence toward the pasture gate. After double-checking the latch on the gate they walked up the path to the Black's corral. They stopped by the corral and leaned against the fence. Mike offered Alec
a toothpick and the two of them chewed their toothpicks a moment in silence. Alec had something he wanted to ask Mike.

“Ellie thinks someone might have started that fire on purpose,” said Alec.

Mike shrugged. “I heard. That idea sounds a little off the wall to me. But it doesn't surprise me, either. Ellie hasn't been herself lately.”

“Really? How so?”

“For one thing, she doesn't seem to have time for anything but office work. We used to get into town for a movie every once in a while. Not anymore. Sometimes I think it addles her brains to sit at the desk in the office all day long.”