SHE

                   by Gwen

John Turner looked at the horse that he felt was almost certain to win the Derby. Gauntlet. The problem was--he was not his horse. He belonged to the Logan family. Damn them. He watched the horse play in the sunshine—almost taunting him. If Gauntlet won the Derby, he would most definitely be out of a job in short order. He needed to find a way to prevent that from happening. By any means necessary. The end always justified the means. John turned and walked away from the fence line. He had already lost a small fortune to Gauntlet. That just added more fuel to the funeral pyres. One more reason to hate the Logans. But then he didn’t need one.

The Logans seemed to have more lives than a cat. He had never seen a family with more out and out luck then they had. And that bothered him.

He lit his cigar and inhaled the fragrance for a moment. He needed to be underhanded again. And this time not be caught as he had with the letter. He decided that it was time to return to his home. He could think better there. Turner arose on top of his horse, and then turned and took one last look at his nemesis.. He swore under his breath and rode off.

Turner arrived at his quarters just in time to see a small woman lean up against the fence line watching his charges play in the sunshine. Suddenly one came over, and she gently touched it’s nose. The horse nudged her hand. Then took a few steps closer as if wanting more. Turner looked at the woman with curiosity. He had seen a lot of humans work with horses. None matched her. Usually they used brute force to obtain what they wanted. She didn’t seem to need to. He dismounted and then watched her a little more closely.

She was a about 5-4 he guessed. Small, thin. Her blonde hair, and her green eyes never left the horse. The horse whinnied a bit and then became spooked at his appearance.

"Can I help you---?" He took the cigar from his mouth and gently tipped his hat to the woman.

"I’m Angelia. I was hoping to find employment here working with your horses."

"I’m sorry. We do not have any positions open right now."

"I’m sorry to hear that. I heard that one of your horses is going to the Derby. I was hoping to work with them."

"Perhaps some other time." Turner had too much to think about—to waste time on this female.

"Oh..by the way….your mare here is feeling pain in her right back ankle….she should rest it before it turns to a major strain." With that she turned and walked away from him.

Turner stood by the fence and looked at the horse. He had been around horses all his life. She appeared to be fine to him. He watched the woman walk away from him. Mount her own horse side saddle and then ride off down the road as quickly as she had arrived.

The next day one of the jockeys was riding the same mare. And as she had predicted the horse almost fell and severely sprained his ankle. The injury wasn’t enough to destroy the animal. However, it definitely got Turner’s attention.

The woman had predicted not only the injury but where the injury would be.

That definitely got his attention.

He needed to find this woman. Especially before she made her way to the Logans farm. John thought back to his first meeting with her. What was her name? "Angelia" yes that was it. He didn’t have a last name….but then Lexington is a small town….anyone new would stick out like a sore thumb…and then there was always the Jockey Club….if she worked with horses…that was a good place to start….

Angelia walked the streets of Lexington. Lexington was a small town. She had heard about the near disaster with the mare. By now….Turner would be going nuts trying to find her. She had learned the waiting game, and now  she was an expert at it. She would let him come to her. After his curiosity had been whetted enough of course. She looked through the pile of material that was on the shops table. Angelia pulled out some small coins from her pouch and purchased just enough silk for a dress. Deep Forest Green with a satin sash. She smiled to herself. Then she looked up, just in time to see John exiting the Jockey Club.

So far, Turner had no idea where Angelia was. She couldn’t have gotten far. He did know that the Logans had no idea who she was. That was good. Very good. He stood on the step and lit another cigar. He blew out the match and looked up. There she was leaving the store. He should have known. Women always shop on Fridays. Always.

Angelia made sure that Turner saw her leave the shop. She held her bundle tightly. Turner was behind her by about one hundred feet. He began to walk faster. Good. He was desperate. Good. She turned a corner and then….

John followed behind her. She had turned into a blind alley. No way out. The only one in Lexington. And she had been cornered. Then he turned the corner to find the alley empty. No one there. Not even a stray cat. He turned and looked at the opposite side of the street. Nothing. He looked back. Nothing. He had been outwitted by a woman. He smiled to himself. He almost laughed. This was getting interesting. He inhaled on his cigar and then turned to leave.

Angelia watched his confusion from across the street. Her father had taught her well. So had her grandfather. It was wonderful being able to loose people so easily. And it was almost time for payback. She had waited twenty years for payback….and it was almost time…..
 

PART II.
 

Angelia watched the lights move around Turners quarters. She guessed that he was getting ready to retire for the evening, this was after spending most of the day chasing his own tail. She did like keeping a man off center. They were much more enjoyable that way.

John unbuttoned his shirt cuffs.  And then splashed water into his face. He had spent the day chasing a ghost. At least she seemed that way. She had disappeared into thin air. And worse yet, no one had ever heard of the woman. Even the merchant in the cloth store didn’t remember her. And this was less than fifteen minutes later.

Turner was just about to turn off the lights and get some much needed sleep. Then there was a gentle tap on the door. Being major domo of such a huge estate had a responsibility, but whomever knocked on his door at this hour had a death wish.

He opened the door, forgetting that he had his shirt off. There stood his prey. Angelia. She stood there framed by the doorway. She wore a navy dress that flattered her slim figure. Her blonde hair hidden by a navy bonnet that shielded her face.

"I heard that you were looking for me Mr. Turner?"

"To put it mildly. Angelia. Won’t you come in?"

"That would not be appropriate. I would appreciate it if you would become more presentable in order to discuss business."

Turner put his shirt back on and looked behind him. Good she was still there. She stood on the porch and pulled the shawl closer around her. She almost shivered in the darkness.

He came out and stood on the porch. His shirt was misbuttoned but then at this point neither of them cared.

"Thank you Mr. Turner. Now, how is the mare?"

"The accident happened as you said. Exactly where you said. My question to you is how did you know?"

"I am—what is called by some in the country of my ancestry—a horse whisperer. Horses talk to me, and I understand them, I also talk to them."

"You talk to horses."

"Yes, I have already proved to you my abilities. If you choose to take advantage of them—that is entirely up to you. We have much in common from what I’ve heard."

"Oh—and what is that?" He was still trying to figure out if she were lying. This was to outlandish not to be true.

"A total hatred for the Logans."

"I see. Well, you obviously know why I hate them. What is your reason—if I may ask?"

"It’s an old hate. An old hurt. The Logans’ grandfather betrayed my grandfather. That’s why they immigrated to America. To get away from my family’s curse. I wish to bring down that household with a crash. I was hoping that we could join forces in order to succeed in that end result.  I would love to join forces with a beautiful woman such as yourself. May I just ask what your last name is?"

"I don’t see where that would be relevant. However, it is McNaughton. When can I begin?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good. I would like to see Gauntlet tomorrow. I think I‘ll pay him a visit. Is he as fast as what I’ve heard?"

"Probably faster."

"Well, we’ll need to see about that. Good night Mr. Turner. I shall see you in the morning."

She turned and disappeared into the cold of the night as suddenly as she had arrived.