The Horse Keeper Read online

  Wayne was deliberately goading Clayton in a manner as to force him to fight, while coldly gauging Clayton’s exploding point. And it worked exactly as Wayne wanted. Some of the boys began to gather round and the ones who knew Wayne well, knew Clayton was in serious trouble, despite having the advantage of being a far bigger man.

  Clayton suddenly lunged at Wayne, swinging a looping punch. Wayne easily sidestepped it and brought his right fist up so hard into Clayton’s stomach, that Clayton staggered to one side. They then began to circle each other like prize fighters. Clayton was deceptively agile for a big, heavy man and his next punch came across so hard and fast it sent Wayne reeling. Wayne desperately tried to gather his senses as another punch caught him hard in the eye and sent him staggering backwards. Clayton was grinning as he gained confidence and Wayne could feel his right eye closing over. Wayne realised that he must use Clayton’s size against him and as Clayton came forward again Wayne dodged to his left, bobbed down and threw a straight right hand punch with all of his weight behind it. It landed flush on Clayton’s left jaw, breaking it with a muffled snap. Clayton gasped with pain, dropping his hands briefly. This was all that Wayne needed and he flew at Clayton, laying hard, scathing punches to his head and face. Clayton tried to cover his face and kick Wayne in the groin, but Wayne grabbed his leg and threw him in the air. As Clayton landed heavily on his back, he felt Wayne’s hard boot, smash into his head, leaving him concussed. As he slipped into oblivion Wayne’s words echoed around his head. It’s all over Clayton, it’s all over.

  CHAPTER 11

  “See you’re a student of the bible,” said Wayne, trying to sound congenial.

  Belinda, who was sitting under a tree with her legs bunched up under her chin, let the bible slip from her hands, as her attention was sharply disturbed. She looked up and saw an awkward looking Wayne standing close by, with a towel draped around his neck. It took her a while to adjust herself to the surprising situation.

  “Yes Sir and a lot of other books, but the bible is the one book that my father would always say, ‘whatever question you have, whatever problem you can’t solve, the answer is in here somewhere. It may be difficult to find, or come in a veiled way, but somewhere in these pages, there is an answer, for everybody’.”

  “Sorry, can see I disturbed yah agin, like I did at the well. Just didn’t expect to see anybody up here. And please don’t call me sir, the name is Wayne, Wayne Rawlins.”

  “I know your name, Polly told me, she asked the gentleman with the patch over his eye, after the incident down by the river.”

  Wayne looked genuinely surprised and said,

  “Really, I didn’t see yah at the time.”

  “Well you wouldn’t have, you were too preoccupied protectin’ us from that bad man. I was in the middle and we all sure appreciate what yah did for us.”

  Wayne became visibly embarrassed by her words and he could feel his ears beginning to burn with a sudden rush of warm blood again, just like with the first encounter by the well. But he had also noticed that she had used the words preoccupied and appreciate, which told him that she was well read and quite articulate.

  “Awe, it was nothin’, ole Jed and Luke had an equal part in the dust-up.”

  On hearing this she openly smiled at him and Wayne felt that he had taken a giant skip and jump in the direction of befriending her. He was trying not to pay open attention to her cleavage and shapely legs when she stood up and looked closely at his face.

  “What happened to yah eye?”

  “Oh, just another incident with the same fella, that’s all.”

  She gently touched the underneath of his eye and that touch sent a shock through his whole body. This was the first time in his life that he had sensed the deeply felt tenderness of a woman and he did not know how to handle it.

  “It’s swollen, but can’t see any serious damage, can yah see okay outa it?”

  “Yeh, I can see okay, it’s gone down to what it was.”

  Wayne then looked around, silently observing the picturesque plot.

  “Sure is peaceful up here, can see why yah come here. It’s the first time I’ve taken the time to walk up here and I only work down there in the stables.”

  “I know you do, with that poor boy I always see yah with.”

  Wayne wondered how long she had been coming to this place, because if it had been for some weeks, then she certainly would of heard him lambasting and terrorising Luke. Belinda smiled as if she knew precisely what he was thinking.

  “I’m sorry, I meant to ask yah name down at the well, but it slipped mah mind when yah left, that’s been naggin’ me ever since, I haven’t seen yah about agin.”

  “My name is Belinda, Wayne, Belinda. I thought you were never gonna ask me.”

  Wayne felt in a state fluctuating between embarrassment and sheer delight.

  “Well Belinda, I was just goin’ down to mah favourite place down by the river. Would yah care to join me for a walk.”

  “Well, why, sure I would Wayne, sure I would.” As they walked down the hill, through the trees, Wayne wondered why she was smiling wryly to herself. She had already seen him in his favourite place, in all of his glory and stark naked.

  Belinda sensed that Wayne was having difficulty striking up further conversation and wondered if he had seen her spying on him while he was bathing. But she dismissed these thoughts, because his next sentence revealed the reason why.

  “I notice you use words that most folks I know don’t use, or don’t know how to use when speaking to other folks.”

  For some reason she looked slightly relieved and answered him as casually and articulately as any Sunday school teacher or well-educated person that he knew.

  “That’s because I had the most excellent and patient teacher that anybody could ask for, my father. He made me study, and I also went to school every day until I was sixteen. Does that surprise you?”

  Wayne was suffering another pang of embarrassment, and a pleasant smell of musk from his day’s labour wafted in Belinda’s direction, which she found rather pleasing.

  “Wow, my mother wanted me to study like mah brother Wyatt, but I felt more at home working on the farm. I was more like mah pa, learnin’ was not really mah vocation. I used to browse through some of Wyatt’s books, but study, me, nah.”

  She looked him straight in the face, the closeness of her and being alone with her was still having a kind of delayed feeling of unbelievable good luck. She smiled and said,

  “Well, you’ve obviously had some education, otherwise you wouldn’t be using the words, vocation or browse, for sure. Are you being honest with me?”

  She noticed that his ears were turning slightly red and felt that maybe she had been slightly harsh or misunderstood by her last words.

  “Nah, what I really meant was, I was never educated to the standard of Wyatt. I went to school like other folks, but compared to Wyatt, well, his nose was always in a book. Why, he could tell you all ‘bout Plato, Socrates, Leonardo Da Vinci and all of those other Greek and Italian dudes. Compared to him, me, educated, nah.”

  “Well, you must have had some interest, or you would never know the names of all those Greek and Italian dudes,” she said, barely hiding her amusement.

  “As I said, I would sometimes browse through what he was readin’ when I found an open book on his table, just to try to see why he couldn’t keep his nose outa books.”

  “That’s why you were lookin’, coz as my father used to say, there’s part of us deep down inside that needs to learn and needs to find out. If all of us could get a good education, to read and write, then our whole view of the world about us would be far richer and we could see our true selves, like looking at your own reflection in a deep pool of clear water. Where’s your brother Wyatt now, by the way?”

  “He’s dead. He got killed at a place called Shiloh, near the Tennessee River.”

  “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t of asked, please excuse me.”

  W
ayne was scanning the river, with distant and melancholic eyes through the trees.

  “That’s okay, I’m sorry too. Just wish we’d got to know each other before he went and got himself killed. It’s so damn funny when you think you know somebody so well and in truth you know nothing ‘bout them. He was one real brave dude, real brave.

  The river had begun to sparkle in the afternoon sun, as the sun peeped tantalizingly through the maples and tall oaks on the opposite bank. Here the banks sloped up sharply, taking the shape of a sheer bluff. Brush, bushes and overgrown greenery made the approach quite difficult.

  But as they pushed their way through and came walking down onto ground less densely barred by shrubbery, she could see the rocky cove where she had seen him splashing about in the water. And on the far side of that cove she could see her former vantage point of observation. And yes, it was well covered by dense greenery and low slung pines. As she looked back into his face, he wondered why she smiling so serenely. If only he knew.

  As Wayne walked across the square to go back to the stables, the evidence of his conversation with Belinda was being clearly displayed. A cluster of semi invalid and half starved men were passing through the main walkway, following a rickety old wagon, whose bony and badly shod horses were in no better condition than the men. It was a familiar scene for Wayne. Men who were young, robust men four years ago, reduced to tired and broken old men, within a short space of time. They would be replaced by real old men and teenage boys, marching the other way, probably to fill the ranks of these war warn veterans. Only to be killed or wounded in a half flooded trench, or dusty field. The look on the veteran’s faces told the story clearly, the blank expressionless mask of defeat. These men would never brag or boast theatrical stories of fantastic battles like Clayton, because they had been in real battles, in a real war. Who had lived and suffered things far beyond their worst nightmares. Every one of them had lost a Wade, a Ty, or even a Wyatt. And every one of them had seen good and noble men die for reasons and plots that were not of their doing. So many would be brides, were now widows, in the north and south. And the dramatic picture the Reverend Leopold Blunt had painted for the General all of those years ago, could not have been expressed in a more eloquent and dramatic way.

  He tried to cast these thoughts aside and focus his mind back to the previous two hours. Belinda was not only very beautiful, she was also very intelligent and sensitive. It had still not fully registered in his mind, that the endless plots and ploys that he had been planning and scheming as he lay on his bunk at night had happened purely by chance. And it could not of happened in a better and more convenient way.

  What had made him take a different and more longer route to his usual bathing spot down by the river, was still a mystery to himself. He certainly could not believe his luck when he saw her sitting underneath tree, reading her bible. And her lithe, lovely legs, her voluptuous body, her breasts and her beautiful face. He had just had to stand there and take in her full, magnificent countenance before he disturbed her. And when he had disturbed her, why had he behaved with such reserve, after all she was just a woman, but what a woman. And when she touched the swelling under his eye, why had he felt as though he was melting. Tomorrow he must approach her differently, because she had been openly more at ease than he was. When they had walked, she had moved very close to him, without any fear or trepidation of being alone with a man. What was it that had amused her about him? Because that smile had implied that she knew something about him. But what could she know about him, other than what he had told her? He had earnestly wanted to tell that she looked like an Egyptian Queen, straight out of one of Wyatt’s encyclopaedia’s, but what kind of damn fool would say something like that to a woman who he was half mad to impress. And those stirrings in his trousers! What the hell was he playing at, behaving like a dirty dog, thank God she hadn’t noticed. Yes, tomorrow he would try to be convivial, without acting like a clown. Tomorrow he must not make any mistakes he would be ready.

  Belinda had been far more relaxed as she reflected on the pleasant afternoon, down by the river. Her woman’s intuition had told her clearly that he wanted her and he wanted her badly. She was happy and content to savour her female power, which had been woken up quite unexpectedly. Tomorrow afternoon she would exercise it some more, with a little more daring. What had brought him up to her hideaway she didn’t know and didn’t care. As she entered the kitchen where Polly was busily toiling over steaming pots on a cooker, she was smiling to herself. When Polly noticed her and her manner, she eyed her suspiciously and said sarcastically,

  “Whatyah smilin’ at gal? No don’t answer. I know that kinda smile, when I see it.”

  Wayne watched the sad procession disappear in a cloud of dust, their ghostly shadows moving about as if they were suspended in the sweeping dust. He slowly turned away and walked back towards the stables, remembering that he had told Luke that he would be back about six o’clock and it was now seven thirty. As he turned around the wooden buildings and looked out into the pens, he saw Luke gingerly climbing onto the back of a dangerously volatile young stallion that had been recently been brought in. He stopped and watched with interest and some trepidation as Luke soothed the horse by stroking it and speaking to it in low and slow syllables that he had learnt from Wayne. As Luke slowly lowered himself down onto the broad, powerful horse’s back, it suddenly reared up without any warning and Luke had to hang onto the reins tightly and brace his legs to stop himself from being thrown clear into the air.

  Wayne muttered to himself, as his adrenaline began to surge through his veins.

  “Go on Luke, this is your chance to prove yah can do it. If yah can break this one, yah can break any hoss, if yah can just do this one. Go on Luke, show me yah can do it.”

  Even by Wayne’s judgement this horse was very raw and volatile and it had that one ingredient in its character, which Wayne had learnt from years of keeping horses. And that was, it had the instinct of knowing how to throw any would be rider. But Luke was holding on and negotiating every leap and jarring lunge with skill, which Wayne had not seen in him before. He was being tossed clean out of the saddle and slung in different directions, with whiplash speed. But still he held on with grim determination. Now Wayne was watching Luke in awe and admiration, because he knew that even he, with all of his experience, would have great difficulty breaking this particular horse.

  Amazingly the horse was showing no sign of losing momentum and there was no indication whatsoever that its stamina was being tested. Now Wayne slowly climbed up onto the fencing, without taking his eyes off Luke and the horse.

  Luke’s face had become twisted into a mask of sheer concentration, but the fury and strength of the rampaging beast was noticeably draining his strength. Wayne thought that it was only a question of time before Luke would be thrown and hoped he would not be trampled, or land badly from a whiplash sling. But incredibly, each time it looked as though Luke was about to take a tumble, he would somehow pull himself back into the saddle and tug desperately at the reins. Wayne could not contain himself any longer and began to shout and Luke grinned as he realised Wayne was watching him.

  “Go on Luke, yah can do it, he’s gotta tire soon, don’t let him throw yah!”

  But the horse was not tiring, it was growing in strength and determination and its movements became even more violent with frustration for not being able to throw Luke. It was now extremely angry and was lurching and lunging wildly. Sweat was spraying around from Luke’s soaking wet face and hair and a dark patch of sweat was making his shirt stick to his back. Now Wayne felt the temptation to step in and try to bring the furious beast to bear. But as he stepped down from the fence to try and articulate a way how he was going to approach the fray, the horse slowly but surely began to tire. Luke’s shocks from the bucking and whiplash slinging slowly became less pronounced. Finally the horse began to visibly slow down until it was brought to a disgruntled trot around the parameters of the pens. Wayne could not conce
al his delight and was openly swelling with pride when he laughed and shouted to Luke,

  “That’s all I wanted from yah Luke, that’s all I wanted…Yah can break any hoss yah want now…You’ve lost yah fear of them at last, at last!”

  Luke made sure that the horse was not going to try and throw again and kept on riding round in circles for a few minutes. When he finally pulled the horse to a halt in front of Wayne, he just grinned at him, with his face and hair soaked in sweat.

  CHAPTER 12

  A boy, a torch and a barn.

  Wayne had not slept well again, but this time it was not pleasant thoughts of Belinda that had denied him sleep. He had been dragged from a light slumber by one of his most frequent nightmares and by far the worst. A nightmare of real and phantom spectres, which had come to haunt and taunt him, leaving unanswered questions, echoing around inside of his head. Where do we go when we die? Or do we really ever die? Or is their nothing but oblivion after our lives of pain, joy, happiness and sadness?

  It had crept into his slumber in its usual stealth like manner. He was at the Chancellorsville battle again and they had been marching all night. There were twenty six thousand of them moving in block right across the front of the union lines. General Lee had masked their movements by planting another twenty five thousand in battle lines between them and the union lines, which were preparing to be attacked. Nobody had any idea of what General Jackson and General Lee had been planning. But rumours were flying around alarmingly, that General Hooker had deftly shifted a hundred and twenty thousand Federals, complete with artillery across the Rappahannock and Rapidan rivers, twenty-five miles up on the north west of Fredericksburg. And was planning to crush Lee’s army of around sixty two thousand in a flank and rear action.

  Indeed, Hooker’s plan had been so brilliantly executed in the initial movement that he had managed to screen the entire move using cavalry, without Lee being remotely aware that he was about to be attacked from the rear. When he did realise, sudden and precise orders were given all around and with the exception of General Early with ten thousand men under his command, the entire army marched out from their trenches and fieldworks, skirting the heights of Fredericksburg. Of all the battles, which Wayne had great reservations about, this was by far the most depressing.