Dante of the Maury River by Gigi Amateau Read Free Book Online

like my cousin, Covert Agent? That, I will never know.

L ife in the weanling barn was easing on toward a good routine when chaos descended. Trouble started with talk of the Texan, and then Red showed up at our part of the farm. We weren’t accustomed to seeing him around anymore. Of course, we’d all known him when we were babies, so when he came sashaying down the breezeway, we let the news be heard that he was disrupting things.
    The filly two stalls down from me got to kicking. She started the colt next to her whinnying, then Covert Agent and I joined in, too. Bing-banging at the doors, cling-clanging on our feed buckets. Wean drama, for sure. But the real ruckus had yet to arrive.
    Doctor Tom was in the feed room when we started our impromptu riot. He gave Red a hard time. “Red’s been scaring the daylights out of horses since I was a schoolboy. That right?” He laughed and clapped Red on the shoulder. You could tell he liked him.
    “I’ll tell you what, Dante. Red’s going to be spending part of his time up here with you all from now on. We’ve really got him running around.”
    Red spoke up not to me but to Doctor Tom. “As long as Edensway’s got jobs for me to do, I’m happy.”
    The barn was alive with the smell of Gala and the promise of Golden Delicious that morning, thanks to the light breeze that rustled up scents from the orchard straight in through the back of the barn. Mind you, we really got to kicking and neighing once the smell of apples reached us. All of us declaring to Red in unison, “We love a crisp Kentucky morning. Let us out. Time’s a-wasting!”
    But Red had come up the hill with a purpose. A real whopper. “Got to get you youngsters ready for the sale next week,” he said. Then he hollered to Doctor Tom, “Every one of them going?”
    “I think so.” Doctor Tom popped out of Covert’s stall, wiping his hands on his jeans. I guess he was getting himself a lot dirtier now that he was working more jobs around the farm.
    He pointed toward me. “Maybe not Dante. I’ve got a private buyer flying in from Houston tomorrow noontime to look at him. Let’s shine him up. Make sure he gets his shots and shows well. Nothing I’d like better than to close the deal in thirty minutes and put our friend here on a chartered plane by suppertime.”
    He started for the feed room, then stopped and addressed me directly. “Can you cover me that spread, Little Dante? One half hour.”
    Right then, I really knew I wasn’t Marey’s foal anymore. The moment had arrived for me to step into the limelight and do right by my dam, my pedigree, and the Edens.
    I nickered at Red and Doctor Tom.
    “Woo-hoo!” said Red. “I’d say that’s a yes.”
    The Texan and me started out fine. Right on time the next day, he pulled into the drive. He had come alone. No assistant. No children. No trailer and no driver.
    Don’t know why, but I expected the buyer from Houston to be a bigger man. Had he been a horse, he’d have been a pony, unless you count the extra height his hat gave him. Even then, he would’ve been riding the horse-pony line.
    Doctor Tom addressed him as Junie. Red called him “Yessir.” Those first few seconds held a lot of promise that a deal might get done.
    Junie carried with him a shiny silver suitcase that he set down in front of my door. I craned my neck to investigate and tried to get a whiff of whatever might be concealed in there. Wondering if maybe Junie had brought me a peppermint all the way from Houston.
    Doctor Tom wasn’t inclined to dillydally. After all, our agreement only covered thirty minutes. So, Red clipped on my lead and walked me out. I might’ve done a little dancing, but not much.
    “He’s sure pretty,” Junie said. “Black as tar, not a speck of white.”
    “Great looking,” agreed Doctor Tom.
    “How ’bout I take some measurements, Tom?” he said, and didn’t wait for permission.
    Junie knelt down to that interesting hard silver case. He opened it