Paxton and the Lone Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

Joseph!”
    â€œWish me no ill will, Andrew. Tell you what,” he went on expansively, “I am in a mood to be generous. Suppose you accompany me to Maggie Hansa’s after the race. I’ll see to it that she gives you something more important to worry about.”
    â€œUnfold that saddle bag so two can sit, and we have a deal,” Andrew agreed.
    Joseph produced a flask, uncorked it and drank before offering it to Andrew. “You do drive a bargain, little brother.”
    The bourbon took away Andrew’s breath and brought tears to his eyes. He reached up to tuck his hair behind his ears and carefully fit his hat more firmly into place, and in the process wiped his eyes. “Had a pretty good teacher,” he wheezed, returning the flask.
    â€œThat’s what big brothers are for,” Joseph said. He stuffed the flask into his hip pocket, and failed to make room for Andrew on the saddlebag. A smattering of applause reached them from the crowd surrounding the speakers’ platform. “’Bout five, don’t you think? He look ready to go?”
    Resigned to contenting himself with a minor victory, of sorts, Andrew sighed and looked out over the crowd.
    True was easy to spot with his white shirt and silly hat, not to speak of the great strawberry roan. Next to him, Firetail looked bored as the applause died down and the mayor accepted his plaudits. The calm before the storm, True thought, stroking the animal’s muzzle. It’s time to get on with it.
    The sun, still high in the sky, hung like a glob of white-hot steel. To the east, the Atlantic spilled creamy froth on the white sand. Beyond, the limitless blue of the ocean merged with the darker hues of the eastern sky. Farther down the beach, a hundred or so yards inland, the Christian Ladies Auxiliary was busy setting up tables, unloading platters of cakes and pies from a flatbed wagon, and tending the fires burning under the huge cauldrons and grills where, later, crabs would be boiled and fish and oysters fried.
    True breathed deeply, letting the sea breeze fill his lungs. His earlier nervousness had dissipated, and with the ensuing calm he was able to view, as from a distance, the course, the horses, and himself. As for the course, he’d seldom seen better. Staked out on hard-packed sand, it ran along the edge of the Atlantic where the shore road nipped at the beach, bent inland around a shallow cove, circled the massive live oak at the edge of the swamp, and returned to the starting line.
    The two horses could not be assessed so easily. That Firetail was eager to run, there was no doubt. But Tory was too, and although True had not seen her in action, she did look fast. As much as Firetail liked to win, he could be in a losing race. One never knew. Nolan was no fool. He certainly couldn’t be totally ignorant of Firetail’s prowess, and perhaps he knew something that True didn’t. More to the point, a horse could slip, lose its footing, pull a muscle or tear a tendon. Both animals were subject to the same vagaries, though, so there was no sense worrying about that. The third and final factor was himself. He and Joseph and Andrew had been traveling for two and a half months, and he was tired of it. The ordeal of travel and racing that had brought them back to where they had begun had engendered a listlessness that True couldn’t seem to shake. The truth was that, aside from all the money involved, he didn’t really care any more. He’d feel differently once away from the starting line and in the heat of the race, but the feeling would be temporary at best. Outside of those few minutes with the wind in his face and the sound of Firetail’s hooves drumming in his ears, True was indifferent. Although the attitude bothered him deeply, for a man ought to care, it was all the same to True Paxton whether he won or lost.
    â€œUgliest creature I’ve ever seen,” Mose Nolan sniffed, breaking