Read Online Champagne for Buzzards by Phyllis Smallman - Free Book Online Page A

and that, went on and on about the snake. “I only caught sight of the last of it disappearing into the bushes after you and Joey took off.” Her eyes and cheeks glowed.
    â€œRunaway horses and snakes bigger than me, if I had a gun I would have shot both of them.”
    â€œThat would have been a mistake, at least shooting the snake. Indigos are really good to have around; they eat lots of mice and things. They live in gopher tortoise burrows. Think we should go have a look for a tortoise burrow? That would be neat to see.”
    I offered her my view of her mental state.
    â€œMaybe not,” Marley said.
    â€œI’ve had all the nature I can take for one day,” I said. “Let’s go back.”
    â€œBest to walk on a little farther, just so you can show Joey who’s boss.”
    â€œOh, I think he knows that already.” I followed Marley down an eight-foot-wide path cut deep into the jungle. The path was the width of two passes with the rotary mower Howie used to keep it from getting overgrown. Each week he drove the tractor out through the brush, around a small lake to where a stream came in from the Breslau property to the east and then back again, leaving a green lane behind him. It was a path Joey knew, but any unusual thing on it would set him doing the sideways cha cha. Now he walked sedately on, past Spanish moss waving and flowing in the breeze, without a hint of anxiety. The rustle of the thick palmettos at the base of the oaks didn’t even seem to bother him. He strolled along like a real gentleman — for about ten seconds. “Watch it,” Marley warned. “Not so close.” Before I could pull him back, Joey stretched out his neck and nipped at Wildflower’s flank. The little mare screamed in pain and indignation and shot forward while Joey tossed his head, prancing and playing innocent.
    Wildflower, being a lady, settled down immediately while Joey sidestepped and shook his head and acted the fool. “Go ahead of me,” Marley said. “Joey likes to lead.” It was too late for her advice. Joey was already trotting forward to take his rightful place at the head of the parade. It would have taken a tank to stop him from being first.
    But still, despite his manners I thought we were doing fine. We’d trot a couple of hundred yards farther along the trail, then we could turn around and have a nice quiet walk back to the barn and I’d have exercised Joey just the way I promised Clay.
    I just didn’t get it. Clay loved the ranch while I thought it would be best to rip up the whole three hundred acres and put in a mall with an enormous parking lot.
    Something caught Joey’s eye, or maybe tweaked his nose, because he stopped, lifted his head and seemed to be sniffing the air. He gave a soft whinny and sidestepped into the underbrush.
    The broken end of a branch jabbed into my thigh. “Stupid, stupid animal.”
    â€œWhat’s that noise?” Marley asked. “I thought there was no one out here.”
    I could hear it now, a mechanical roar, growing louder and more offensive by the second. Clay’s land, bordered by a river on the east and a stream on the west, was long and deep, running from one country road to the next one north. Beef cattle had once kept the land clear but Howie had given up ranching years before Clay had arrived. Most of the northern part of the ranch had gone back to nature and could only be accessed from the cleared land around the farmhouse to the south. It was supposed to be a fine and private place.
    Three vehicles shot around the bend and nearly ran us down. When they’d halted, Joey and I were boxed in.
    Some primeval instinct set the hairs at the nape of my neck tingling…or maybe it was the rifles mounted across the handlebars of their machines that were scaring the shit out of me. The riders were grinning like they’d found treasure. These weren’t the kind of men you