Free Horse With No Name by Alexandra Amor

quiet, absorbed in her own thoughts. She had been more
anxious about the task of meeting Anker’s drovers than she’d
realized. Now that the meeting was over, it brought her some peace
to know the men at the Double A were not her assailants. She felt
her shoulders begin to loosen. At the same time, there were still
lots of men on the surrounding ranches who could be the culprits.
Julia was loathe to admit to herself how much she’d been affected
by the events of Saturday night; she’d been studiously avoiding her
feelings ever since.
    Now, with Merrick and Walt on either side of
her, and the quiet of the early evening surrounding them, she
recognized that the mystery of Mr. Hunter’s beating was doing an
excellent job of distracting her from her own discomfort. Though
she was horrified about what had happened to the clockmaker, she
was pleased to have a puzzle to focus her attention on. She took a
deep breath and shifted slightly in her saddle.
    Out of the corner of her eye she saw Merrick
watching her.
    “What?” she said, turning toward him.
    “I’m worried,” he said.
    “Why?”
    “You were looking solemn but now you’ve got
that determined expression on your face. The one that makes me so
nervous.”
    “Oh good,” Julia said, smiling for the first
time since they’d left Horse. “Someone needs to keep you on your
toes, Constable. It might as well be me.”

Ten
    Every day before he headed home to his cold little
house near the lake, Merrick stopped by Walt's livery to help muck
out stalls. He began with Earl's, of course, but then depending on
how many guest horses were occupying the other stalls, he helped
with those as well.
    On Thursday afternoon Merrick found Walt
repairing and replacing the girth strap and some other leather on
an old saddle. He had a sawhorse in front of the livery, with the
saddle straddling it and his chair pulled up to it. Beside him, in
a basket, were spare leather parts of varying degrees of worn-ness.
The three dogs that were Walt's constant companions at the livery
were circling around, sniffing and lifting their legs on fence
posts. When Merrick approached, they came to him to say hello,
pressing themselves against his legs and thumping his calves with
their tails. They were each medium-sized, with ears that flopped
over and long tails. They were mottled with black, white, brown and
tan, and had dark, liquid eyes that lit up whenever anyone paid
them any attention. Merrick had often wondered if they were
litter-mates. All three dogs were developing winter coats. As
Merrick leaned over to pet each of them, he could feel the
thickening in their fur.
    Greeting ritual complete, Merrick went into
the livery and grabbed the chair that was one of three that were
always present, close to the doorway. It used to be two chairs that
occupied the space, but Merrick noticed recently that another had
been added. He couldn't decide if he liked this development or
not.
    He set the chair down with a slight thump a
few feet away from Walt's chair. One of the dogs came and put its
head in Merrick's lap so that he would stroke its ears. The big man
obliged, and the dog closed its eyes with pleasure.
    The two men were quiet. Nothing was required
of Merrick in this moment and he was enjoying that feeling. Merrick
spent much of his life listening and responding to the problems of
the people around him. Walt never required him to be a police
constable.
    Finally, Merrick said, "Might rain
tomorrow."
    "Aye," Walt replied, hunched over, squinting
at the piece of leather he was sewing.
    "We could use the rain."
    "Aye."
    They were quiet for a few moments more. The
dog in Merrick's lap was sated; he pulled away and went to wrestle
with one of his cronies. The two dogs gargled and gently growled at
one another while they mouthed each other's necks and bumped one
another with their chests, lifting their front paws to try to
headlock one another.
    "What was your impression at the Double A
yesterday?"
    Walt