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“Okay. I think that can work.”
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~oOo~
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They saddled Maple, a gentle gelding large enough to carry Duncan comfortably, and fastened a pack pad over Titan’s back, with a waxed canvas tarp and some good rope. They mounted up, and Phoebe led Titan while Duncan followed on Maple.
He was obviously not completely comfortable on horseback, but he knew well enough what he was doing. Phoebe made sure to lead them over the easiest possible terrain.
When they got to the boar and dismounted, Duncan didn’t hesitate. He went straight to the carcass and crouched beside it to check it over.
“Damn. Good shot.”
Phoebe pulled the tarp and rope off Titan’s back. “I missed the first. See its ear?”
Duncan looked. He grabbed the ear and studied the shredded space where the bullet had taken out a swath. “I see. Still, though. For a miss, it’s a great shot.”
That wasn’t worth debate, so Phoebe didn’t bother. “You sure you can lift that beast?”
Shifting to a weightlifter’s crouch, he slipped his hands under the carcass and gave it an experimental lift. “Yeah. Once we get it wrapped up, no sweat.”
Phoebe brought the tarp over. They spread it over the snowy ground, and Duncan rolled the carcass onto it, then rolled it over until it was wrapped like a Tootsie Roll. They bound it—Duncan tied excellent knots—and then he shifted into that deep crouch again, shoved his hands under the bundle, and stood.
Though he’d moved with slow precision, clearly feeling the weight, Phoebe was impressed. He hadn’t even take a sidestep. He hadn’t made a sound.
But he had the bundle cradled at his chest. Titan’s back was several inches higher than that, and if the bundle wasn’t laid carefully, the horse could be hurt.
“Careful,” Phoebe warned as Duncan approached the Percheron.
“I am,” Duncan assured her.
What an interesting way to put it. Most people would say something like Okay, or Don’t worry, or maybe I will be. I am, Duncan had said, as if it were a statement of being more than an observation of the moment. To her ears, he’d meant I am a careful person.
Phoebe believed it. And was eased.
Duncan hoisted the bundle up and laid it so gently over Titan’s back that the horse barely shifted his stance. Together they bound the bundle snugly to the pack pad.
“Excellent. Thank you. Ready to head back?” Phoebe turned to Amos.
Duncan caught her hand. “Wait. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure ...”
“You shot this boar in the head. Twice. It was facing you. Was it charging you?”
“Yeah. Not the first shot, but after that, yeah.”
“Jesus, Phoebe.”
She shrugged and pulled her hand free. As she turned again to Amos, she said, “Not the worst thing I’ve had coming at me.”
“No, I guess not,” he said, barely louder than a mutter.
