Free A Ghost at Stallion's Gate by Elizabeth Eagan-Cox Page A

carriage in the Rose Parade on New Year’s Day of 1926. Marla went missing the week after and Rory died a short time after. He is in the trophy room of this mansion. Stuffed and standing, still hitched to the carriage.”
    “Whoa, Shannon, you mean to say we are out here in the pitch black of night, hugging an old weed infested flagstone path, looking for a pasture that was the playground of a dead horse?”
    “Alex, you’re making this out to be a wild goose chase, but it isn’t. I have my reasons.”
    “More like a wild horse chase, if you ask me. So tell me, before we take another step, what, exactly, is your logic for what we are doing?”
    Alex was not so playful now. Earlier he would have gone anywhere I asked. But now he was standing his ground and insisting on, of all things, practicality.
    “Alex, please. It’s just a little further. I want to see the pasture that Rory loved. I have a hunch, a gut feeling. I just really need to do this. Humor me?”
    “So, you’re saying that a ghost horse named Rory has visited you? And before you answer, make sure you can tell me the whole truth because if a ghost horse is talking to you, I bet Eric knows about it. And make no mistake Shannon, Eric may be your personal ghost guide, but he is my ancestor and he will tell me the whole truth.”
    Pfft! Alex was not giving in an inch. “It’s like this, Rory knows something, in his horse sense way of logic, about Marla’s disappearance. And he’s given me a few clues. One of the clues is about a pasture. I want to see his pasture. I cannot give you a reason why. And as far as Eric’s knowledge of Rory, I guess he knows, I’ve not asked him and he’s not asked me.”
    Alex studied me and I did not waver from his inspection. I stood my ground.
    “Why ask me to do this with you, why not Joshua?”
    “Because I don’t think Josh would understand.”
    Alex responded by looking at the map. He looked at me and said, “About fifty feet more, over to the left, behind the barn. That’s where the pasture is.”
    The path was ragged in this section. Obviously it had been neglected for decades. We came to a stop behind the barn. Back here away from all light sources, it was ink black. It took some time for my eyes to adjust. I closed them for minute and then looked out onto the pasture. I certainly did not expect to see bunny rabbits frolicking about.
    “Why are there so many bunnies?” I asked aloud, not really expecting Alex to answer.
    “Because it’s summer. Because the pasture has been neglected for decades and the ground has a lot of dandelion weeds and wild grass for the rabbits to feast on.”
    “How many do think there are?” I asked.
    “Dozens. More than what we can see. Most rabbits are not entirely white. So the brown and darker colored ones do not stand out in the dark. Also, from here they look like cottontails.”
    “Like the Easter bunny?” I asked.
    Alex whispered, “I’ll humor you on that frame of reference. Shannon, I think these are pet rabbits gone wild. And it would only take a pair of them, if you get my drift.” He gently poked me in my ribs.
    “Very funny,” I said on a sour note. “Will they bite if we walk out there?” I asked.
    “Probably not. They may scatter.”
    We slowly walked out onto the middle of the pasture. I looked down and was amazed that our presence did not alarm the creatures. They hopped out of our way, content to pluck at the ground here and there, all around us.
    “There are so many more bunnies than what we first saw,” I remarked. “Look, Alex, shine your light over there, at that patch where the group of bunnies is.”
    Under the spotlight of our flashlights we observed rabbits pawing at the ground and fiercely biting at some plants.
    “Looks to me like they are pulling up carrots.” Alex said.
    “Duh, why of course they are and Alex, that is why I am out here. Why didn’t I think of this before?”
    “You tell me. Shannon, you are not making any