Page 137 of Dragon Her Heels

Since leaving my previous employer, I’d grown to have too much to lose. I could, when I stared back in the past and acknowledged my weaknesses, understand how I might have fallen prey to them. Leaving had spared me but had destroyed her.

One day, I would forgive myself.

“How are we going to buy horses out of the kill pen? Why would anyone kill a horse at a market?”

“For food, exported to other countries. Honestly, I don’t begrudge people for eating horse meat. I will have all my animals evaluated at time of death to see if the meat is safe for human consumption. If it is, into the freezer they go. I have a few exceptions, but food is food, and if an animal dies of old age, I see no problem with making certain nothing goes to waste. I draw lines, though. I don’t eat other people, and I don’t eat pets that share my bed with me.”

“Those are good rules. How many pets share your bed with you?”

“One chicken, four cats, and a dragon.”

He laughed. “You call your fiancé a pet?”

“Yep. He’d probably protest if he heard me doing it. He’s definitely going to protest when I bring home another horse. Also, I’m going to impose on the Devil, as he has a serious horse trailer and can teleport it here. He likes driving it. If he didn’t want to play shipper, he wouldn’t have made certain I was prepared to accept an invitation on an unexpected outing.” As it was the same market I’d gotten Alligator Bait from, I wasted no time guiding him through the chaotic building. To my dismay, there were numerous horses, and they were a mix of breeds, types, and ages. A mare with a foal, who suffered from some form of leg deformity, would be my targets, and I went to the kill pen operator, pointed at the pair, and offered a thousand for both.

“You don’t want to know what’s wrong with the foal?”

“Nope. I don’t even care what breed they are. Pull them out of the pen, and I’ll worry about getting a trailer here after my friend finishes picking his new best friend. Do we have any good horses in here?”

The man, who had seen more than a few years and would likely outlive just about everyone, gnawed on a piece of straw while looking over the animals. “We got a batch of thoroughbreds in that look decent, yearlings. I’m guessing they didn’t make the cut.”

I scowled. “Registered?”

“Yep.”

I would become a demon of the jockey club, and if I had my way, no owner would be selling straight to the kill pen on my watch. “Can I see the papers? I’m going to tip off the jockey club and breeder organization, because while sales are allowed, sales to the kill pen are not.”

“Sure. You want me to give you a call whenever I get a thoroughbred in slated for the pen?”

“I would absolutely love if you gave me a call.” I scrounged through my memories of the man, who had sold me Alligator Bait. “Douggie, right?”

“Right you are, ma’am. How are those fillies treating you?”

“We’re headed to the Triple Crown, and another horse from the same breeder just bagged the Breeder’s Cup for me.”

“Who rode?”

I smirked. “I did. How many thoroughbreds for how much each?”

“Seven fifty each, and I got a batch of six, all fillies.”

“There you go, Anthony. That’s an entire herd of thoroughbreds you can take home with you, get settled, and turn into pasture princesses. If any of them look good for next year, I’ll train and ride in any races I’m not angling for myself.”

At my comment, Anthony came over, looking over the horses. He pointed at a tiny horse on the far side. “What is that?”

Douggie checked, and he chuckled. “Miniature horse, show registered, poor performer. Dump sale. He’s got a temper, but that’s from poor training. He’s still got his balls, though, which might cause you some problems.”

“Gelding is always an option, and if you’re not game to fix his temperament, we can send him to a horse boot camp for training,” I promised. “A good stallion makes an even better gelding, and if you’re looking for a pet, you want to geld.”

“Belinda would have loved him. She loved horses with a lot of white.”

Well, the miniature horse delivered in the white department, as he was a chestnut pinto with more white than chestnut. “I’m sure we can handle transporting a miniature demon with little difficulty. Douggie, why don’t you talk to Anthony about what good horses you got while I get on the phone with my shipper? I’ll also see about vetting for that foal while I’m at it. How long have you had that pair?”

“I got them this morning; the owner couldn’t afford the vetting for something that severe.”

“But why put the mare in the kill pen, too? She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Douggie shrugged. “I’ve learned to stop asking why people want to sell to the meat markets. Usually, they just want something for their animals, and I’ll buy for two hundred with no questions asked, and the slaughterhouses will pay me five hundred. But I’ll do you a favor, Crystal. I’ll sell you the pair at even; I haven’t even fed them yet, so it’s no skin off my back.”

“Only if you point me in the direction of the best horse you’ve got that Anthony doesn’t buy,” I countered.

“Sold.”