EIGHT
Since the liveryman was nowhere to be found, Clint searched for what he needed in the immediate area. He found the tools necessary for removing Eclipse’s shoe in the far corner of an empty stall. It took a bit of work for Clint to get the shoe off, but once Eclipse knew what was going on he wasn’t about to resist. When Clint finally got the shoe off and pried something from the Darley Arabian’s hoof, he thought he heard Eclipse sigh with relief.
All this time, Delilah had stayed nearby. She offered to lend Clint a hand every now and then, but he got the impression that she was only making certain he wasn’t about to leave. As Clint examined what he’d just pried loose, she got up from her stool and walked closer. “What is that?” she asked.
Holding up a small pair of tongs, Clint studied a thin wedge of metal that was rusted on one side and shiny on the other. “Could be damn near anything,” he told her. “Piece of a railroad tie. Chunk of a busted wheel rim. Maybe even shrapnel from an old cannon.”
“Really?” Delilah asked as her eyes widened and she leaned in for a closer look. “How interesting! You rode through a battle on your way here?”
“No, I didn’t ride through a battle,” Clint scoffed as he pitched the metal out a nearby window so it wouldn’t get underfoot of any of the horses within the stable. “It’s like I said the first time. Could be anything. The important thing is that it’s no longer stuck under Eclipse’s shoe.”
Shifting her focus from the tongs to the man that held them, Delilah asked, “So does this mean you’re staying?”
Clint got up and straightened his back. He patted the stallion’s side, which caused Eclipse to turn and look at him. The Darley Arabian was tired after all that restlessness, but now just looked relieved. Removing the metal sliver had allowed him to relax the muscles he’d been tensing ever since the sliver had first gotten wedged into his hoof in the first place.
“He’s a tough fella,” Clint said. “It won’t be long before he’s ready to run some more.”
“But . . . not tonight?” Delilah asked hopefully.
“No. Not tonight.”
She giggled, clapped her hands, and even hopped up and down a few times. When she was through with that, she looked just as relieved as Eclipse. “After the way I curled your toes last night, I didn’t imagine it would take so long to convince you to spend another night or two with me.”
Clint thought about trying to keep a straight face, but decided against it. “You don’t need to do any convincing to get me to spend any night with you. I just wanted to know everything going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”
“Trust me,” she said with a glint in her eye, “you’ll never know everything going on inside my pretty little head.”
“Fair enough. When does the tournament start?”
“In a few hours. I’ve already spoken to the owner, and he doesn’t mind you playing at Pace’s, so long as you don’t start any more trouble. Between you and me, though, he knows George is to blame for what happened before. He’ll still give you the evil eye when you show up, so nobody else thinks about stepping out of line.”
“You already spoke to the management, huh?” Clint asked.
She turned and hurried out of the stable. “I was just being prepared, Clint. See you there!”
Before he could scold her any more, she was gone. Then again, Clint already knew that scolding Delilah wouldn’t have done any good anyhow. They’d only known each other for a day or so, which was more than enough for him to tell that she was the kind who was used to having men wrapped around her little finger. When he thought back to the night they’d spent together, Clint figured being wrapped around her wasn’t such a bad thing.
“So you’ll be stayin’ on for a spell?”
Clint didn’t see the liveryman, but recognized his voice well enough. Glancing around, he spotted the filthy, potbel lied man wandering in through a side door. “Yeah. Looks that way.”
“I’ll need the fee in advance.”
“You don’t think I’m good for it?”
Judging by the expression on the stableman’s face, the notion of delaying payment was something completely unknown to him. Before smoke came out of his ears, he grunted, “I need it in advance. More, if you want them same greens.”
Clint walked over to the stableman while digging some money out of his pocket. As he counted out the proper sum, he asked, “Who around here could tend to my horse?”
“My place ain’t good enough for ya?”
“No. I mean someone who could help me nail a shoe back on,” Clint said. “Maybe help tend to a bit of a wound.”
“Yer horse in a painful way? Maybe it’d be best to put him down and move on. I know where you can pick up a real dandy fer a good price.”
Glaring at the stableman, Clint growled, “It’s nothing that bad. He just needs a new shoe and a bit of tending to one hoof.”
“Oh, is that what you were doin’?” The stableman shrugged and said, “The town doc sees to horses and people alike. He don’t work on no shoes, though. I could arrange that for ya.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Ain’t free, though.”
Clint made sure the stableman saw the money in his hand, but didn’t hand any over. “How long will it take to get done?”
“Few days,” the stableman said with another shrug.
“How long?”
Staring at the money the way a hungry dog might drool over a steak, the stableman said, “I can probably get it done tomorrow, but it might take until the day after that. I don’t know how busy Uncle Tim is.”
Clint added a few dollars to the stable fees and handed the money over. “The sooner it gets done, the more appreciative I’ll be when I leave.”
Despite his dull eyes and slack jaw, the stableman had no trouble interpreting that.