Coming soon!
While
fireworks fill the sky on the last night of The Greatest Show on Earth, also
known as The Calgary Stampede, a man with a past is shot on his front doorstep.
Detectives Janice Maidstone and Scott Amble are called to the quiet suburban
neighbourhood. Love has many forms, but which one led to an innocent man’s
death?
As
far as police work goes, Janice can’t imagine working with a better partner
than Scott. The problem is, it’s a race against time, as one or both of them
may soon follow their hearts and seek new lives outside of the city.
***
Available!
I’ve spent the last few months editing and revising a couple
of manuscripts. One was “What Love Made Us Do”, which will be out on shelves in
the near future. The other two are women’s fiction (leaning towards historical
romance) that I will be self publishing later this summer. But weeks of editing
has sapped my creative energy! As in the past, I have turned to developing some
short fiction to cleanse my soul of Oxford comma corrections, finding misplaced
modifiers, repairing split infinitives and fixing too much tell, not show.
Most of my short stories fall outside my normal genre of
police procedural murder mysteries and historical romance. The one I’m dropping
into this month’s blog ventures someplace I rarely go – humour.
I hope you enjoy it.
IT BROKE THE FALL
One long ear swivelled to keep an eye on me. Otherwise, old
Clem stood still as a fencepost.
Dad called over from his favourite bench by the barn door.
“Keep yer teeth together.”
Why would he say that? At breakfast, he said Clem was over his
bucking days. He said Clem had seen the error of his ways.
A few months ago, we’d bought a couple of mules from an
outfitter that was going out of business. One was Clem. The other was almost
identical except for a tiny white spot on the back of his right ear.
Clem and Pickens were gentle creatures, bomb proof when
carrying a pack, the outfitter said, but they’d never been broke to ride. Shouldn’t
be a problem, though, he promised.
Well, first off, Clem took exception to that promise and a
saddle brought out the worst in him. He invented a whole new style of bucking,
until like Dad said, he finally settled
down.
So, this fine morning, after mucking out fourteen horse
stalls and scraping the manure into a pile in the corner of the pasture, I
figured I’d go for a ride and check the new heifers down the valley.
The ride would do Clem good, I thought, so I saddled him up
in the barn, where it was cool and dark, out of the bright morning sun. His big
ears twitched when I snugged up the cinch, and I thought maybe the flies were
bothering him.
He followed me fine out of the barn and it took me awhile for
my eyes to get used to the sun beating down on us. I was still squinting when I
put my foot in the stirrup. Just as I swung my leg over his back, grey matter in
my noggin registered that his right ear had a spot of white on it that wasn’t
there yesterday. At the same time, my ass connected with the saddle, Clem, who
wasn’t really Clem, but Perkins, the mule that wasn’t broke to ride, ducked his
head between his knees and exploded.
I hadn’t clenched my teeth like Dad had told me to, so on the
first jump, my jaws clashed together so hard I figured I’d be seeing my dentist
real soon.
Pickens must have taken bucking lessons from Clem because he
was good. Not just crow hopping, but launching straight up, snapping back with
a hard right turn, and settling into a run no mule should be able to do.
They’re just not that fast.
He had the bit in his teeth; I’d lost one rein. This wasn’t
going to end well ‘cause, if I’m honest, I’m not that good a rider.
Then he stopped. No fancy sliding stop. Just planted his
feet, and I swear, put his head down to make sure nothing was in the way when I
sailed by.
Maybe Pickens was making a point that he didn’t appreciate
getting turned into a saddle horse. But in his heart, he was a good mule; they
always take care of their person. Where did he plant his feet? Right in front
of the still steaming, soft pile of manure and straw that came out of the
stalls.
When I finally cleaned off my face enough to look up and not
see stars, he had his nose almost touching mine, as if to say, Well, at
least it broke the fall.
Love mules, and love this excerpt! I too have had that experience of sudden stop, neck down and "equestrian" vanquished. Clear sailing all the way to the ground. ********!
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