Puss 'N Cahoots

rail of the fence, throwing her leg over the top.
    “I’m not saying ‘go potty,’” Fair growled.
    “Not manly enough?” she teased him.
    He smiled. “Need to keep up my butch credentials.”
    The little family walked toward three mares. The sweetness of the clover mix, the humming of the bees, exalted their senses.
    Mrs. Murphy reached the three mares first.
“Hello, girls.”
    “Hello, pussycat. Who are you?”
an older bay mare inquired, her soft eyes beautiful.
    “Mrs. Murphy from Crozet, Virginia.”
    The other two mares looked at each other, then down at the pretty tiger.
    Pewter, clover buds rubbing against her fur, arrived.
“Hi.”
    “Hi,”
the mares responded.
    Tucker came next.
“I hope we aren’t disturbing you.”
    “Not at all. We like company,”
the older mare replied.
“I’m Brown Bess, this is Amanda, and that’s Lucy Lu. Those are our barn names. We’re retired now from showing.”
    “Miss it?”
Pewter asked.
    “Sometimes,”
Lucy Lu, who’d had a good career, replied.
    “Not me.”
Amanda thought this was the perfect life.
    “Girls, any new horses come on the farm in the last two days?”
Tucker asked.
    “Oh, during show season the vans are in and out every day,”
Brown Bess said.
    “This would be an elegant mare wearing Ward’s green and white summer fly sheet. She’d be black where her fur showed, but really she’s chestnut.”
Mrs. Murphy filled them in.
    Harry and Fair walked up to the mares.
    “They belong to us,”
Pewter announced.
    “That’s the first time I’ve heard you say anything like that.”
Tucker, surprised, lifted her nose to touch Brown Bess’s downturned nose.
    “They do belong to us. They can’t do anything right without us.”
Pewter puffed out her gray chest, quite fluffy.
    Lucy Lu laughed. Fair patted her neck. “Happy horses.”
    “If nothing else we know Ward takes good care of them.” Harry scratched Amanda’s ears, then reached over to Brown Bess.
    “He does,”
Lucy Lu confirmed.
    “Come to think of it, last night, a mare in Ward’s colors did come in. A real beauty. Black. But I haven’t seen her since she stepped off the van. She’d be on the other side of the farm if not in a stall,”
Brown Bess told them.
    “Where were you when you saw her?”
Mrs. Murphy inquired.
    “By the barns. Two barns. This pasture’s almost fifteen acres. Goes right down to the barns,”
Brown Bess informed the cat.
    “Lot of people there now?”
Tucker wanted to keep looking without being conspicuous.
    “Hard to say. Shelbyville show is always busy,”
Amanda volunteered.
“But it’s lunchtime.”
    “It’s been so nice meeting you.”
Mrs. Murphy thanked the mares, then scooted over the rise. She could now see the two barns.
    “Murphy, come here,” Harry called, walking toward the cat.
    Mrs. Murphy kept a few steps ahead of Harry as she angled toward the barns.
    “I’m not going to miss this.”
Pewter hurried up to Mrs. Murphy.
    “Damn!” Harry hated the thought of being caught trespassing.
    “If we turn and leave, she’ll come ’round,” Fair predicted.
    “No, I won’t!”
Mrs. Murphy moved at a more determined pace.
    At six feet five inches, Fair’s legs could cover more distance in one stride than Harry’s. He began trotting. “Miss Pussycat, stop.”
    “Never.”
Mrs. Murphy kept in front to tantalize him.
    He started running, and she took off like a shot, Pewter a little behind.
    Tucker, sensibly, stayed with the humans.
“You’ll get in trouble.”
    “Where’s your grit?”
Mrs. Murphy called over her shoulder.
    Fair stopped. “Dammit, I know better than to chase a cat.”
    “She’s got something on the brain.” Harry watched as the tiger cat and her gray sidekick, tails to the vertical, bounded toward the green barns with the white trim. “Now what are we going to do?”
    “Let’s stand here for a minute to see what they do. So far there’s no sign of life down there at the barns.” Fair saw the two cats circumvent the barns to dash into the adjoining pasture. “What’s gotten into those two?”
    “They’re on a mission.” Harry couldn’t help but laugh, even as she was concocting what to say if they were caught.
    “Guess we are, too.” He jammed his hands in his jeans pocket. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going after them. I’m not running, though.”
    “Too hot.” Harry walked alongside Fair.
    Tucker didn’t go all the way to the barns. She darted across the main drive to