Gabriel's Triumph by Alison Hart

Author:Alison Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Peachtree Publishers
Published: 2007-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Straining hard, I drag myself from the buffeting wind and back into the car. Gasping, I lean against the wall.

Hooks is sitting on the trunk, fanning out his cards as if nothing happened. Cuffy’s still chuckling to himself.

I rub my throat. It’s raw and bruised from the strangling collar. Worse, my hopes are raw and bruised as the realization hits me: The North ain’t any different.

I should have known it. Newcastle was from the North, and he’s about as no-account as they come.

Blinking, I fight back the rising tears. I refuse to let a Northerner see me cry.

That night I sleep in Aristo’s stall, pressed in the front corner. I feel safer next to the colt’s iron-shod hooves than in the open freight car.

When I wake, sunlight’s streaming through the doorway of the car. I rise, stretch stiffly, and give Aristo’s flank a pat. The outside air feels fresh and crisp, but it can’t mask the rank smell of the dirty stalls.

Ducking under Aristo’s neck, I peer over his door. Hooks and Cuffy are passed out on the floor. Several empty bottles roll between them. Last night they jumped from the train at several stops to buy cheap whiskey. Never once did they bring water to their horses or check the gash on Faraway’s leg.

I touch the bruises on my neck, wondering if I dare give their horses a drink. I don’t fancy getting tossed off the train, and according to Mister Giles, Saratoga Springs will be the first stop this morning. The horses might be able to wait until then.

I don’t know if I can wait, though. The stop will be none too soon for me.

I bundle up my blanket, unlatch Aristo’s stall door, and slip through. I ready my few things, tying them into my blanket. Then I feed and water Aristo and brush him until his coat shines like copper. When he steps off the train, everyone in Saratoga will note the arrival of the greatest horse in Kentucky.

Quietly I step from the stall and around Hooks’s legs. There’s half a bucket of water left, and I offer it to Aristo. But the colt must know that the journey’s coming to an end. Ignoring the water, he stares out the door, his mane ruffling in the wind.

I look, too. We’ve left farmland behind, and all I can see are trees, which cover the rolling hills like green quilts on a lumpy mattress. The forest is so thick that it’s hard to picture a town like Saratoga nestled in one of the valleys.

When I turn back, Hooks and Cuffy haven’t stirred. Stepping over Hooks, I give Faraway and Senator the rest of the water. Senator sucks the bucket almost dry, then noisily slurps the few drops at the bottom. Hooks groans like he’s waking, and I scuttle back to Aristo’s stall.

I press my back against the door. Clutching the bucket, I stare down at Hooks and decide that I’ll crack his head with it if I need to.

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