by Linda Ratoff
Scott was grumbling as he worked. "We could be with Mom now, but no. Dad had to stop and help George Fox, even save his life. Man's got a great way of thanking 'us, sending his men after Mom so she had to run again."
Starman hung up the bridle he was cleaning for the next day's fox hunt and went to the door of the tack room. In the stall next to him, he could hear his son muttering to himself as 'he finished mucking out the stall. The large barn was empty as the other stable hands were cleaning up the grounds and doing jump maintenance in preparation for the hunt.
Scott leaned the pitchfork against the wall when he saw his father standing there. "I know. We've discussed it. You had to do what you had to do."
Starman's eyebrow lifted in response, knowing his son was reasoning with his heart instead of his head.
"Oh, there you are," Kevin McQuesten greeted them as he led his large bay gelding into the barn. "How're things going? All ready for the big day?" Handing the reins to Scott, he walked over to the tack room and Starman. Taking in the neatness and order Starman had made out of the mess left by the previous employee, he nodded. "The offer is still on, if you-change your mind. We'll be closing up the house after the hunt and leaving for home by the end of the week. We'd love to have you and your son come with us to Virginia. I've never seen anyone who has the way With horse's you do, besides working miracles with this kind of chaos."
Starman shook his head. "Thank. you for the offer, sir You've been- a great boss, and Scott and I have enjoyed our Work here, but it's time for us to move on ourselves, and we' need to stay in this part of the country."
"The offer remains open any time you want to reconsider it. Well, I'd better Set back to my guests." McQuesten offered his hand to Starman. "See you tomorrow morning. The hunt, begins at 8:00, so we'll need to have the horses saddled and ready a little after 7:30 You've never seen a more magnificent sight than When the ladies are so elegant in their black coats, and the men in their pinks, ready to, follow the hounds in search of those cunning foxes."
"Pinks?" Scott turned in surprise from the bay's bridle he was putting away. "But most I of the outfits I saw the maids getting ready were red, scarlet, really."
His boss laughed. "The outfits are called 'pinks' because it was the name of the man who designed them, not because of their color." He turned back to Starman and smiled. "See, Forrester, how much your son could learn if you did decide to come East with us?" McQuesten was still chuckling to himself as he headed out the barn door past Tim, one of the grooms who was leading a horse in from the paddock.
"So, you're still not taking The Man up on his offer?" Tim queried. "Williams will be happy to hear that. He's been convinced you wore after his job, especially since he fount out you were allowed to ride The Man's favorite horse in your off-time. Said he'd do whatever it took to get you out of here.
Starman shook his head. "I told him he had nothing to worry about, that this Would be a temporary job for me until the McQuestens' vacation was. over. I was allowed to ride the stallion because Mr. McQuesten said I was the only person other than him who could handle the horse, and it needed the exercise."
"Williams won't believe anyone once he's set his mind on something. I'll let him know, though, next time I see him." Tim offered.
George Fox paced the tiny cubicle at the airport clinic. "Well, Doc, what's the matter with Wylie? They've already started announcing the first boarding for our plane. You've got to give him something to settle his stomach so we can get going."
"We need to do a few more tests, but I'd say your friend..."
"My assistant, not my friend," Fox abruptly corrected the doctor.
"Your... assistant," the airport doctor continued, "would appear to have food poisoning, a mild case, thank. heavens.
"So give him something, if it's that simple. We've got to be on that plane," Fox demanded.
The doctor consulted Wylie's chart. "Mr. Wylie won't be catching that plane or any other for at least the next twenty-four hours. The only place he'll be going is the hospital for observation."
It was hard to tell if it was the nausea or the glare from his superior that turned Wylie green. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fox, but the picture over the deli counter looked so good. Pastrami on white with mayo. And it even came with a pickle. I thought it tasted different because I'd never had it that way before, not because something had gone bad." Wylie stopped and took a deep breath to right the wave of nausea, not at all successfully.
Fox's hasty retreat from the clinic was not entirely due to the last boarding call being announced over the public address system.
"I was sure we were going to get that fox. I know I saw it just ahead of the hounds," Marcia McQuesten whined to her husband as she handed her reins to Starman. "I don't care what you say, I did see some kind of blue light just before the hounds lost the fox's scent and it disappeared."
Starman's brow arched slightly in response to his son's half-smile as the boy ducked his head behind the horse he was leading. Scott's smile froze as he caught sight of the local sheriff coming past the guests on their way back to the main house and the festivities inside.
"Mr. McQuesten, could I speak to you for a minute?" the sheriff hailed the estate owner. "Sorry to interrupt the party, but this is official business."
"Anything I can do, Sheriff. Is something wrong?"
"On your hunt today. did you or any of your guests see any strangers? There was an accident on the road behind your place this morning, and the driver can't be found."
"No, the fox didn't lead us anywhere near that area today. Do you have any idea who the driver was?"
The sheriff shrugged his shoulders. "All I know is he's some kind of government official, FSA or something, according to my deputy. Sam. Man's name is Fox. He said Sam didn't have enough clearance to be told any more, but this Fox wouldn't wait around until I got in. Said he had some kind of hot tip about a 'dangerous being.' that's all I know. Sam reported he saw Fox's rental car down in a gully by that big curve in the back road bout an hour ago, while he was on patrol. No one was at the scene, the shoulder belt attachment was broken, and there was blood on the cracked rear-view mirror. We figure you've got the best tracking dogs in the county. and your horses can go places even our four-wheel drives can't."
"We'll help any way we can," McQuesten offered, "but I don't know about the hounds right away. As you can see, they're exhausted. They've never worked so hard With so little success before, and we've just gotten in. They'll need some rest. I'll tell you what. Forrester, saddle the school horses. Scott, get the other hands, everyone who wasn't on the hunt."
Scott gulped. "You want us to help?"
"Of course," McQuesten replied. "You've done enough riding around here to know your way around. Sheriff, we'll be ready as soon as we can."
"Dad, do you think those are Fox's tracks?" Scott pointed to a set of footprints along a narrow stream.
Starman halted his horse and leaned over to look more closely at the tracks. 'Most likely. They're fresh, and I saw some blood on a bush about half a mile back. That's what Sam told us to look for."
"If those are Fox's tracks, and we do find him, then what?" Scott's voice wavered slightly at the thought.
"We'll do our best to see him before he sees us; then we'll think of a way to get one of the other search parties to find him while We get out of here. But we can't leave if there's a chance we can help find him, considering the blood stains we've been finding," Scott's father reminded him.
"Yeah, I know. It's just that this helping Fox is getting to be a habit, a real bad habit." Scott continued to ride his horse ahead of his father's in the direction of the footprints. Suddenly. he reined in his horse and pointed. "Dad, look."
Ahead of them in a clearing was George Fox, dried blood down the right side of his face and on his shirt. He was sitting on a fallen tree, looking in their direction but not seeming to see them.
Starman guided his horse past Scott's and slowly rode up to the man. who didn't react when his long-time quarry called his name. "Fox? Can you bear me? Are you all right?' Starman dismounted and moved toward the injured man. When there was still no response, he activated his sphere.
Slowly, the agent turned toward Starman, his eyes focused on the glowing blue light. "Pen."
Starman gently rested his left hand on Fox's shoulder. 'What did you say. George? Do you know what this light is?'
Again from Fox: "A... a pen." Again the stare.
Scott peered down from his horse. "Dad, what's wrong with him? He's not making any sense."
"It's the injury, Scott." Starman concentrated on his sphere, then looked up at his son. "There's nothing broken, but there is a large bruise inside his head, in his brain. It must be affecting his recognition and his speech. It's getting worse from the bleeding inside." The blue light intensified.
Fox stared unknowingly at the Starman and the sphere until his eyes began to close. Starman gently lowered his hunter to the ground.
"He'll sleep for a while, as the injury heals. That'll give us time to get away from here and find help for him." Starman mounted his horse, keeping his sphere activated until they were well away from the clearing.
"What are you doing with the sphere now?" Scott wondered.
"Covering our tracks, so when Fox is found, nobody will know we were here and left him behind. We don't want to make people suspicious of us."
Amazed at his father's idea, Scott grinned crookedly. "Pretty slick, Dad!'
Starman raised an eyebrow at his son. "Covering our tracks was 'slick'? Hmm. I just thought it was practical."
About a mile from where they left Fox, Starman and Scott saw the search party headed by McQuesten off among the trees. "Scott, get off your horse and lift up its front leg," his father ordered.
Quickly figuring what his father had in mind, Scott took out his own sphere and loosened the horseshoe. Starman also dismounted and stood inspecting Scott's horse's foot as the search party approached them.
"Forrester, what's wrong? Is the horse lame? Are you and Scott all right?" Their bosses concern was genuine.
"Scott's horse has a loose shoe, sir, that's all. We thought it would be better not to risk riding him and to take him back to the burn. We did see some tracks up the trail that might be that agent's.'' Starman nodded in the direction he and Scott had come from.
McQuesten stayed back as the others rode on. "Thanks for your help, Forrester. We'll see you back at the house as soon as we wrap this up.'
"I don't know if we'll be there," Starman replied. "Scott and I have to be on our way now. It's been a pleasure working for you, sir."
"If I can't change your mind, then I guess it's goodbye. Any time you need a job or a reference, let me know. We're back here at least twice a year and could use you. Goodbye, Scott." As he rode down the trail after the search party, McQuesten gave one last look over his shoulder as father and son walked out of view, on their own search for an important person missing from their lives.
THE END
Written by Linda Ratoff