The All-True Travels and Adventures of Lidie Newton_ A Novel - Jane Smiley [104]
We did not think of Frank, of course, we thought of the Missourians, especially those Missourians, never mentioned but always in the backs of our minds, who had possibly once owned Jeremiah.
I exclaimed, "I put him in that corral with the others last night myself! Were any of the others... ?"
"Gate’s closed and locked, all the other horses are there. Jed Smith’s man hasn’t seen him all morning. He thought we’d gotten him out early and didn’t think to mention it, until I showed up!"
"There’s men everywhere, all night long. They come over here to sell things and buy whiskey," said Louisa, pinning up her hair. "I’ve often thought we in Lawrence are too trusting."
"What now?" I said.
If we had been entirely confident of our claim on Jeremiah, we would have reported his loss all over town.
Thomas said, "Bisket’s taking his horse to look around the other corrals. I should take the mule—"
"You can’t ride that mule!" said Louisa. "He’s a terrible bucker under saddle."
"I can," I said. "I want to, anyway. I’ve got to find Jeremiah!"
I can’t say that when I got out into the morning air I didn’t feel a moment’s recoil. Normally, Louisa and I tried to find things to do indoors until midday or after. But Jeremiah! My own horse, who nickered to me every time he saw me, who was as easy to ride and willing and pert and sound and neat as a horse could be! I caught Louisa’s mule, threw on my saddle and bridle, and mounted him from a rail of the corral fence. Jed Smith was talking to me the whole time. "I an’t ever lost a hoss before, Mrs. Newton. I got good fence here, and nobody comes around. Two men watch all night, and then Now1 and I are here all day. Unless some of them Indians spirited him away. I don’t know what to say, but it seems so impossible he’s gone that I know he’s here somewhere. I’m still looking." He switched his plug of tobacco from one cheek to the other and spit into the frozen muck of the corral.
"You didn’t see anyone around all morning, or over the night? Not Lawrence people, but strangers?"
"Naw. Dead quiet all night. I tell ya, ma’am, he’s gonna turn up, and we’ll say, Now, how did he git there? and maybe it’s something we’ll never know. Indians got medicine for everything...."
I coiled a length of rope around my waist. My fingers, though I was wearing gloves and mittens, were already stinging with the cold.
"Good luck to ya, ma’am!" Mr. Smith spit again, this time at the mule’s feet. "While you’re gone, I’ll think this one through."
Mr. Smith was from Michigan. While not of the brightest intelligence, he was kind with the horses and fed them well.
As I rode down Massachusetts Street, looking in every corner and crevice for a wandering gray horse, I was trying to remember, if I ever knew it, the name of that family we’d run off Mr. Jenkins’s claim in the fall. I was just thinking that I could hardly remember what anyone had looked like, so hirsute and tangled had they been, the father and his sons, when I saw a group of men and horses gathered in a field, and then I saw Roger Lacey, who wore a distinctive green coat, and then I saw Jeremiah, and then I saw Frank, and then I realized that the men were having some races. A pair of horses and riders took off as I watched, causing the mule to buck and kick. I slapped him with the end of the reins and urged him forward. His big ears arrowed toward the running horses, and he nearly pulled me out of the saddle. "Harlan!" I cried, trying to hold him. ’Are you a racing mule?" They had those in Missouri and Arkansas, I knew.
Frank ducked behind Jeremiah when he saw me, but I didn’t say anything except, "Hello, Jeremiah." Roger Lacey backed away and vanished completely.
I waited. The mule curvetted and kicked out, but then settled down. The two runners finished their race and headed back to the group, led by three or four men who had manned the finish line. Lots of men were milling around, and I was the only woman. There was money