The Outsider Series: The Complete Omnibus Collection

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

How did one respond to the reality of what was about to happen? Emily climbed onto the tractor while Brad hurried back to the house. The horses knew something. Smoky was nose to nose, then side to side with Rusty, as if holding him up. And Rusty’s head drooped, as if he knew his time was almost up. The other horses lingered close, about a dozen surrounded Rusty and Smoky, forming a circle of protection. It was magnificent, mesmerizing and heartbreaking to watch this procession. They called out to one another, whinnying and snorting. But she’d no idea what they were thinking.

When Brad hurried back, Cliff trailed behind him, his ratty felt hat pulled down low over his eyes, and his plaid jacket buttoned up. He put the lead rope back on Smoky. The horse fought Cliff as he led him away from Rusty.

“Emily, don’t look.” Brad yelled.

Emily ducked her head and shut her eyes, tears streamed down. She jumped from the shot’s blast, covered her mouth, but couldn’t hold back a whimper. She gazed through a film of tears at Brad standing over Rusty, his beloved horse, lying in a heap in the brush. Smoky reared up and nickered, in the most agonizing way. The other horses swung their tails but did nothing else; a few of them pulled out a mouthful of straw from the loader. But it was the silence in the trees, in the brush and the meadow, as if the land was guiding home a gentle spirit and mourning the loss of such a kind and loyal soul.

Brad lowered his gun, allowing it to dangle from his side. He fisted his other hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips trembled, as he swiped away a stray tear with his coat sleeve.

Emily climbed down from the loader. And then Brad was right behind her. His face filled with immeasurable sorrow. “I need you to help Cliff after I put the hay in the feeder. Hold the horses back while I dig a hole to bury Rusty.”

Her throat tightened, she couldn’t get anything out. She could only nod. Brad climbed up and started the tractor, the loud diesel drowned out everything. Emily backed away while Brad drove the thirty feet to the feeder and dropped in the round of hay. He backed away. The horses were so used to the tractor; they walked around it to the feeder. Except for Smoky, a bay mare, and a white Percheron; they hovered over Rusty.

“Emily, hold Smoky while I grab these other two!” Brad shouted, just as Mac dashed through the gate.

Smoky yanked on his lead. Emily led him further away. Cliff had halters and lead ropes on the other two horses and moved them back. Brad moved in and used the front of the loader to dig a hole beside Rusty. Mac took the Percheron. Blood covered the ground where the horse lay unmoving. Emily buried her face in Smoky’s neck who now stood calmly beside her. It was horrible, watching Brad slide the horse into the hole and then bury him. She knew this was life on a farm with animals, but she’d never experienced such loss in her life. How could ranchers and farmers deal with this so calmly? She’d always bought her meat at the supermarket wrapped in plastic. You didn’t see the cow or chicken still walking around before s*******r.

Brad touched her arm. “Emily, thanks for your help. Go on back to the house. We’re done here.”

He took the halter off Smoky. The horse wandered over to the grave, and stood. The other horses would eat, and then wander over and stand by the grave. Brad jumped back in the tractor, yelling orders at Cliff. Emily ran out the gate, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t stop until she reached the house. Life moved on; they had no time to grieve. Emily stood on the back step and looked back. The tractor, Cliff, Mac and Brad had already moved on.