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A Ten Pound Bag
Chapter 215 –  Hoot to Trill

Chapter 215 –  Hoot to Trill

I didn’t hurry on my way out and even patiently waited for Brin when I had to send him back to get his knucklebone. I suppose he could sense that I was feeling distressed and left it behind in his urgency to be there when I called. I scooped up Lunch’s reins and settled into the saddle. It wasn’t a hurry-up type of thing, just a long-practiced movement that appeared liquid smooth when performed in such a mood.

I was burnt out emotionally and really needed a day to recharge my emotional energies. I knew that the upcoming postal trip would involve far more social interaction than I liked and that I needed to exude that diplomatic/salesman persona that was so foreign to me. Even thinking about it was enough to drain me, not to mention the fact that a young woman whom I loved very much was deeply upset by the current proceedings. Now, for fuck’s sake, I had to deal with the loudmouths and the rest of my immediate clan before I could calm my little Mouse.

Lunch seemed to sense my mood and started ambling home, walking with a gait so smooth you would swear you were sitting on a rocking chair. I relaxed in the saddle and let him do his thing, the reins loosely wrapped around the pommel I simply sat back, lit a cigarette and enjoyed my moment of peace and quiet. It wouldn’t be long before my clan members caught up to me with their questions, comments and contrite apologies. I enjoyed the silence of the dark while I could.

It wasn’t long before I heard a fast trotting horse behind me, I had hardly finished my cigarette and pocketed the butt before they caught up. I had just enough time for a last small sip from my flask and then I had company. Naturally it was big old Sherriff on his mule and that mule wasn’t interested in taking his time like Lunch was and tried to move on ahead. Sherriff’s hauling at the reins wasn’t doing much to slow that mule down but Lunch took exception and a swift nip brought that mangy mule into line. Lunch was the king of the herd and his desire was law; he got to eat what he wanted, fuck who he wanted, when he wanted and generally set the direction and pace in all things equine. It’s good to be the King.

Sherriff had the wherewithal to catch the mood and respond in kind, so he was silent for a good minute or two as we plodded along together. Brin had taken off behind us to scout out who ever else was back there and we simply rode along in silence. I passed my flask to Sherriff who took it with a grunt of appreciation, after a stout swig he offered up his contrite apology.

“Tough day.” Simple statement from him allowed to hang gently in the air, I simply grunted in response and we rode on in silence a while longer.

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“I apologize for my part in it.” Said and finished, he took another swig and handed my flask and handed it back. I hoisted the flask to him, taking a swig before replying.

“It’s done and forgotten. New problems to think of.” Really that was all I felt like saying and it’s all I had to say.

We rode along in silence a while longer. There really wasn’t much to say right now and no over-riding reason to say anything. Companionable silence is really good medicine when havoc has filled your day.

Eventually we heard the girls catching up with us from behind, obviously pregnant Michelle and Lucinda had squeezed together onto the dog cart. Accompanying them was Sonya showing once again how obviously uncomfortable she was on horseback.

I passed a look to Sherriff and tiredly said, “It’s time for a buggy.” Sherriff simply grunted in acknowledgement.

I do believe those were the last of the calming words spoken on the ride back to the compound. The air was heavy and cold but that didn’t calm the women’s chatter in the least. I do believe it actually warmed them while it slowly sucked the life out of Sherriff and me.

Brin finally showed back up, herding a wayward yearling steer, much to our surprise. I never did figure out how he ended up in the woods between my compound and Rulo, but Brin brought him back to us and that yearling happily fell in line with our little herd. He kept a little distance so there was a pretty good chance that the women’s chattering unnerved him as much as it did us. When I did get a carriage for the women I’d have to insure that the team of horses could handle the chatter. Hell, maybe I’d just give them the llama as a team.

I attempted to avoid the long winded apologies from the ladies but it was for naught. To be honest each one of them somehow turned the entire episode into my fault, they were extremely adroit with the manipulation of logic and words. I mostly grunted in agreement and rode on.

It grew sharply colder and that finally put an end to the prattling behind me. We were able to finish the short journey in the clip-clop silence of the horses’ gait and we could listen to the autumn night around us. The leaves would all be gone off of the trees with the next great rain or wind storm; darkness would dominate the world for a while.

The old and the ill would don more blankets and move closer to the fire seeking respite from the ever creeping cold. The cold was here to stay and the unprepared best beware, Autumn was giving us the warning that Winter was coming and as always Winter was ruthless.

We put the horses up in the corral and Amos was there to tend the tack for us so we simply walked across the compound to our respective homes.

As I passed the chicken coop I heard an owl hoot aggressively nearby. Our rooster trilled quietly telling his hens that they were safe on their roosts. It was a calm and reassuring trill lending strength to all that heard it.

I carried that spirit as I entered my home to comfort my beloved wife.