Gargantuan_ A Ruby Murphy Mystery - Maggie Estep [48]
I’ve never seen Ruby on a horse and it does something to me. Over the years, working at the track, I’ve seen a lot of attractive women on horses but for some reason it didn’t affect me the way this is affecting me. I can actually feel the undiluted joy flowing out of the girl. And Lucky is responding. Though at first he was holding his head up high, protecting himself from these unknown hands and the way they might pull on his mouth, already he’s trusting her a little, dropping his head, beginning to use the muscles in his back.
She asks him for a trot and this seems to frighten him. He throws his head then goes into a fast choppy trot. Ruby brings him back to a walk and talks to him. The girl doesn’t know much about riding but she can read horses. She asks him to stop and start a few times, does a few figure eights with him, then asks for a trot again. This time there’s improvement. The little horse transitions into a smoother, slower trot that Ruby sits comfortably and I start gaining more insight into what attracts me to Ruby. Horses. She intuits them just as I do. And that’s rare.
I pull my collar up around my ears. I forgot to bring a hat and it can’t be more than thirty degrees out. I sink into my jacket, looking for warmth as I listen to the soft rhythm of Lucky’s hooves striking the hard dirt of the paddock. For a few moments, I feel good, like all will be well in my world once more.
This feeling dissipates. Though Ruby’s mood is improved after her nocturnal equestrian experience and we snuggle up close to one another in the bed, when my alarm clock goes off at four-thirty the next morning, Ruby is fractious.
At first, I attribute this to her not being a morning person. I find myself hoping that she’ll come around once she’s got some coffee in her. I try to be quiet and keep out of her way as she feeds the cats and drips coffee in the portable machine she’s brought. I wait until she’s ingested two cups of the stuff before I finally look her in the eyes. She’s clouded though, unreadable.
“You don’t have to come with me,” I remind her as she begins to get dressed.
She looks up at me. “I know. I want to come.”
I kiss the back of her neck as she puts on a pair of red mittens. She’s unresponsive.
She’s arranged for Big Sal to take us to the track and, as soon as we step out the motel room door, we see him there, in his glaring red truck. He has the window rolled down and some very gloomy-sounding opera is wafting from the truck’s stereo.
“Morning, kids,” he greets us, evidently pumped up on coffee and music.
Ruby gets in first, mumbles a hello and asks to stop at the nearest coffee shop for more fuel. I wedge myself between Ruby and the truck door and proceed to leave Big Sal and Ruby to their own conversational devices as I start going into the zone, beginning to get my mind clear and focused for riding.
As soon as we get to the backside, I start to feel a good deal lighter. Ruby is still acting strangely and Big Sal saw fit to keep blaring the morbid opera all the way out here, but in a few minutes I’ll be on a horse. Not much else matters.
A HALF HOUR later I’m on Jack Valentine, working under lights since it’s still well before dawn. The air is cold but crisp, cleaner than usual. Henry has told me to just give Jack a very gentle mile