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“So how is he?” Tiffany asked, patting the black stallion’s neck and forcing a smile at the grizzled old trainer. Mac had slept in his clothes and it was obvious from the way he was walking that his arthritis was bothering him.
“Moon Shadow?” He pointed a thumb in the direction of the horse’s head. “He’s fine.”
“And you?”
“Getting too old for all this excitement.”
“Why don’t you take a day off?” Tiffany asked. “You deserve it.”
“Not now, Missy,” he said, shaking his head. “What would I do while the missus knits and watches those soap operas? Nope. I’m better off here. ‘Sides, I want to see what Vance has to say after he looks this old boy over.” Mac gently slapped Moon Shadow’s rump, and the stallion snorted and tossed his head in the air.
“I thought I’d check on Shadow’s Survivor next,” Tiffany said.
“Good idea.”
Mac walked with her and Wolverine trotted along behind. The rain had stopped and the clouds were beginning to break apart, promising a warm spring day. Tiffany realized for the first time that the flowering trees were beginning to bloom. Pink and white blossoms colored the leafless trees with the promise of spring.
“Say, Missy,” Mac said as they approached the foaling shed.
“Yes?”
“I noticed that Sheridan’s car is gone.”
“He left early this morning.”
“Because of what I said last night?”
“No.” Tiffany shook her head and smiled sadly.
“I was out of line.”
“You were concerned. We all were . . . are.” She ran her fingers through her hair and squared her shoulders. “Something’s got to give, doesn’t it? We can’t go on this way much longer.”
Mac frowned and reached for the handle of the door. “You’re right—it’s time our luck changed, for the better.”
They walked inside the foaling shed and heard the soft nickering of Alexander’s Lady. A tiny nose attempted to push through the rails of the stall. “Here’s our good news,” Tiffany said with a smile as she tried to reach out and touch the skittish filly. “Maybe I should change her name to that. How does Good News strike you?”
“Better’n Shadow’s Survivor or whatever the hell you came up with before,” the old man chuckled.
“I don’t know. . . .”
“She’s your horse, Missy. You name her whatever you like.” Mac grinned at the sprightly little filly. “Just wait, little one,” he said to the inquisitive young horse. “As soon as we get the okay from the vet, you’ll get your first look at the world.”
* * *
The rest of the day was filled with more good news. Two owners called to say that their mares had delivered healthy foals sired by Moon Shadow, and Vance Geddes checked Moon Shadow’s leg injury and gave the stallion a clean bill of health.
“As soon as that tendon heals, he’ll be good as new,” Vance predicted after examining the stallion.
“He sure knows how to get into trouble,” Tiffany complained with a fond look at the horse in question.
“Maybe it’s not the horse,” Vance suggested.
“What do you mean?”
“Seems to me, he had a little help getting out of the stall last night.”
“I suppose.”
