The Land (14 page)

I glanced over at the other rider. The fellow was older than I, and had the weight of a man on him. He glanced over at me and he grinned, but it wasn't a friendly grin; I knew he was mocking me. “Pay him no mind,” said Mitchell. “He's all teeth, nothin' else.” I nodded and cleansed my mind of all except Starburst and me. The marks were set, the rules explained, the gun was shot. The race was on. I became one with the mare. Starburst crossed the finish by a full length.

Afterward the Missourian congratulated my daddy and paid him the wager. Other people came around and said Starburst was a mighty fine horse and that I was a fine rider too.

A man out of Alabama, man name of Ray Sutcliffe, told my daddy I was such a good rider, he wanted me to ride some races for him. “That boy of yours got a mighty light weight on him and he sure enough knows how to handle a horse like he was full grown. I've got myself a good rider, but he's been feeling sick of late, and I need another rider. Could sure use that boy of yours.”

My daddy shook his head. “Paul only rides horses he knows.” “Horses I'm talking about aren't wild or anything,” said Ray Sutcliffe. “They're my own horses, come straight out of Alabama, not any of these wild, new-breed western horses. In fact, I've got a fine stallion, a grey, I want to race, a real winner if he's got a good rider on his back. I'd pay your boy well. I'd pay you a fee too, on the wager, if I win.”

My daddy smiled. “Well, if anybody could ride a horse and win a wager for you, it would be Paul here. But I still have to say no. I don't want this boy or the horse getting hurt. Like I said, my boy rides only horses he knows. I thank you, sir, though, for the offer.”

When Ray Sutcliffe left us, I said to my daddy, “You didn't ask me if I wanted to ride that man's horse.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Well, why not? Maybe I wanted to ride for him.”

“Well, if you did or you didn't, I know better about these things,” said my daddy. “Some of these horses around here aren't half trained, some of them are skittish, and some of them are just plain mean. Now, I've seen some of that man's horses, and maybe you could ride that grey he was talking about if there were training time, but not just on a first ride. Not all folks train their horses same as we do, and you riding a stranger's horse is just asking for trouble. You could get thrown, you could get run over; in either case possibly get yourself seriously hurt. No, I'm not about to let you ride any horses except the ones we brought here.”

“Well, I still say I've got a right to decide what I ride and for who. I'm not your slave anymore.”

I remember my daddy got real quiet. If I just hadn't added that last bit, maybe he would have taken the time to talk more to me. Now his mind closed. “Makes no difference about that. I'm still your daddy, and you're still a boy with a boy's judgment. I say no about a thing, then it's finished.”

The young manhood in me got my back up. “Well, you didn't tell that man from Alabama anything about you being my daddy, just that I was ‘your boy'! Figure that says more than anything else! Now, I want to ride that stallion!”

I'll never forget the look on my daddy right then. There was temper in him and he could have given me a good walloping right there, but he stayed his hand and gave me my warning. “I'm telling you this just once, Paul,” he said. “You ride that horse or any other horse I say you don't ride while you're under my care, I'll whip you 'til you bleed. 'Til you bleed, do you hear me? Harsh as that might sound to you, a whipping'll be less painful to you than some crazy horse that could kill you or maim you for life. I'm not going to have that, you understand? That's all I'm going to say about it, so you mind my words.”

That said, my daddy walked off from me. I watched him go. I knew my daddy meant what he said, but I didn't heed his words.

It was some three days later when Mitchell and I were brushing down the horses in the stalls my daddy was renting, Mitchell said to me, “That man from Alabama, one wanted you to ride for him, he come askin' me 'bout you. Came to the stables earlier.”

I stopped my brushing and peered across the horses at Mitchell. “Did? What he want?”

Mitchell kept on brushing. “Wanted t' know if you were on your own or if you was debted t' Mister Edward.”

“What'd you tell him?”

“Told him I didn't know your business. Told him too, he wanna know your business, he best be talkin' t' you.”

“My daddy's dead set against my racing that grey or any other horse he doesn't approve of.”

“Well, s'pose he got his reasons.”

“Said he doesn't want me hurt.”

Mitchell grunted.

“Said he'll whip me bloody I ride without his permission.”

“Good 'nough reason not t' ride, then. But don't be too surprised if that Alabama man come t' talk t' you.”

I wasn't. Early the following morning the Alabama man came to the stables where Mitchell and I were tending to a gelding. My daddy wasn't around. On this particular morning my daddy and Willie Thomas had gone off into the surrounding countryside looking for horses and weren't expected back until late in the day. Ray Sutcliffe came right to the point. “I want you to ride for me, boy.”

I looked at him as if surprised.

“I just lost my rider,” he explained. “Came down with the stomach flu again or some such thing, and here I've got a race to run by noon. I wanted to speak to the man you work for, but I understand he's gone for the day. I wanted to do him the courtesy of asking him again, but I need a rider now, and you're the best I've seen. Now, I know Mister Logan doesn't want you to ride for anybody but him. He made that clear. But if he's got no hold on you and if you want to ride for somebody else, you can.” He looked at me pointedly waiting for a response.

I gave him one. “He's got no hold,” I said. Mitchell looked at me, then kept on with what he was doing.

Ray Sutcliffe smiled. “Well, you ride for me today, and I'll make it worth your while.”

I glanced at Mitchell and took my time before I asked, “Mister Sutcliffe, what're you figuring as worth my while?”

Ray Sutcliffe seemed surprised that I had put the question to him. More than likely, he was figuring I would just take him at his word about making my riding “worth my while.” “You'd be getting my rider's pay,” he said. “Same as I'd pay my own rider.”

“Well, Mister Sutcliffe, I know what a rider's pay is around here, and it's not worth losing my job because of it. My boss told me not to ride a horse that's not his, so I know I'd be in real trouble with him if I did. No, sir, I thank you for your offer, but I don't figure to risk my job for just rider's pay.”

My words seemed to put Ray Sutcliffe on the spot; they seemed unexpected. “Well, don't you worry none about that, boy,” he said, talking down to me. “I'll talk to Mister Logan myself and let him know the situation. I'm sure he'll understand.”

“He might understand,” I said, “but I'll still be in trouble with him. I can't do it.”

It was then I saw Ray Sutcliffe's eyes true for the first time. The man was desperate. Maybe he'd made a wager he was counting on winning a little bit too much; I didn't know. All I knew was that he was desperate for me to ride, and I figured him to pay me a good price if I did. “I said I'd make it worth your while, boy, and I will.” His voice was now testy. “This here's a good horse you'll be riding, an excellent horse. I've got a considerable wager on him, and that wouldn't be the case if I didn't know what an excellent horse he is. Tell you what. I'll double your rider's wages.”

I glanced again at Mitchell, who kept on grooming the gelding, but his eyes did meet mine, letting me know he knew the same as I about this man Ray Sutcliffe. “No, sir,” I said again. “Double a rider's pay isn't going to help me out any with Mister Edward Logan. He says a thing, he means it. I go against his orders and I won't be able to go back to Georgia. I ride for somebody else, then I know I have to go on my own. I go on my own, I'll need more than double a rider's pay.”

Ray Sutcliff frowned. “So what're you figuring you'd need?”

I sidestepped answering his question. “Well, first of all, I don't know if I could even ride your horse, seeing that I've never been on him before.”

“Well, I tell you what I'm willing to do,” said Ray Sutcliffe. “You ride my grey and win that race for me, I'll give you two percent of the winnings. That'd be more than double the pay of my rider.”

Now, I knew that this man was not about to count out the total of his winnings to me and let me take my two percent, and I wasn't about to ask him what his wager was. “I don't figure I can do it for that either,” I said.

“That's more than enough!” declared Ray Sutcliff. “That's more than a boy like you'll see in any one ride!”

I shook my head, looking as if I was sorry I couldn't take him up on his offer. “No, sir, I just can't do it.”

Ray Sutcliffe seemed frustrated. “Well, boy, what do you want, then?”

“Well . . .” I said, as if I were still thinking this thing over, “four times a rider's wages seems fair to me. I'll do the ride for that, if your horse and I can get along.”

“Four times a rider's wages!” exclaimed Ray Sutcliffe. “What you take me for?”

I shrugged, as if that was the best I could do for him. “I figure I lose my job, I can get along on that for a while 'til I find another one. Can't do it for less.”

Mister Ray Sutcliffe from Alabama did not look pleased. “All right. All right. I'm going to pay you what you asking, this four times a rider's wages—but only if you win, you hear? You lose, boy, and you get nothing.”

I was taking a big risk with my daddy, to walk away with nothing for it. But I figured I'd struck the best deal I could with Ray Sutcliffe, and despite the risk, there was something in me that wanted to prove to my daddy not only that I could ride this stranger's horse, but that I was a man now. I nodded. “I understand,” I said. “But if he wins, I'll need my money right after the race.”

“Agreed. But you'd better ride him well. Come on now to where I got my grey stabled. Time is short.”

“I have to finish brushing down these horses first,” I said.

Ray Sutcliffe's face took on a look of exasperation. “What? You got a race to tend to, boy!”

“I'm sorry, Mister Sutcliffe, but I told Mister Logan I'd brush these horses down for him, and he taught me a long time ago to do what I say I'm going to do.”

“Well . . . let that other boy brush them down for you!”

“I'll be needing Mitchell's help with your horse, sir, and like I said, we're obliged to finish this job for Mister Logan.”

Ray Sutcliffe frowned and gave in, though I could tell he didn't like it; he just had no choice. “Best get a move on you, then! My grey's in the next stable over. That race is at noon, and you'd better be there, ready to ride.”

“I'll be there,” I said.

As Ray Sutcliffe stormed off, I noticed Robert standing at the entry of the stable. When Ray Sutcliffe neared him, Robert stopped him. “Aren't you Mister Sutcliffe?” he asked.

Ray Sutcliffe acknowledged that he was. “And you're Edward Logan's boy, I recall. I saw you yesterday with your father.” He held out his hand to Robert. He hadn't offered his hand to me.

“Yes, sir, I am,” said Robert, shaking the man's hand. “Mister Sutcliffe, I hear right that you were offering Paul there a job as your rider?”

“That's a fact. My own boy took sick, and I'm in a bad bind with a race coming up in a few hours.”

Robert glanced past Ray Sutcliffe to me. “My daddy won't take kindly to this. He told me he wasn't going to let Paul ride horses he doesn't know. He tell you the same?”

“As a matter of fact, he did, young man, and I want you to know I respect your daddy's thinking about that, but I couldn't find him this morning to extend him the courtesy of discussing this matter with him, and unfortunately, I need a rider before he's expected back. Now, I don't know your daddy well, but I'm sure as a horesman he'll be understanding of the situation. That rider of yours said he's not debted to him and he can come and go as he pleases. That right?”

Robert looked at me, then back at Ray Sutcliffe. “My daddy wouldn't think so.”

“Well, that'll have to be between that boy and your daddy. As for that boy and me, we got us an agreement for him to ride my grey, so you'll have to excuse me. I've got matters to attend to.”

Ray Sutcliffe then left the stables, but Robert called after him. “Paul can't ride your horse—”

“He'll ride!” declared Ray Sutcliffe, not breaking his stride and not turning around. “He'll ride!”

He walked on, and Robert headed for the stalls. I watched him coming, and I was angry that he was interfering in what was my business. When he reached me, he said, “Paul, what do you think you're doing?”

“Obviously,” I said coldly, “you heard what I was doing.” Then I turned my back on him and started brushing the gelding.

“You know what I mean.”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“What?”

I looked at Robert again. “What do you think
you're
doing?” He gazed at me blankly. “Just what are you doing in my business?”

“You know our daddy said you're not to ride that grey.”

“It's my business.”