Land of the Cold Sky

Jed Parker was a strange man, least that’s what some folks thought. Even at the ripe old age of 70, his lined, sun-darkened face looked liked cracked mud in a dried-up creek, Jed was as spry as a spring colt and his reflexes had not slowed very much either. His beloved wife having passed away several years back, he kept mostly to himself. He much preferred the company of horses to people. Now, if there was one thing that could be said about Ol’ Jed, it was his unusual ability with animals, especially horses. If you wanted a quality-bred horse that could work, run, or last all day, you went to Jed Parker. Folks came from far and wide to deal with Jed. But some went away disappointed. The reason was simple, if Jed didn’t take to ya, you were out of luck doing any kind of business with him and no amount of pleading or dinero would change his mind. You had to go to him, make a request, and Jed would, likely as not, tell you to come back tomorrow and he’d have an answer. What people didn’t know was Jed always prayed and sought the Lord’s opinion about doing business with someone. Jed’s final decision was never wrong because God was never wrong. As far as Jed was concerned, if God said it, that was it and if you didn’t like it tough luck. Take your business someplace else! There were those who didn’t take to the way Jed did business. They called him all kind of names; the one most used was Ol’ Coot! Didn’t bother Jed a bit, because those who knew and called him friend recognized an inner peace that many envied. Get in a discussion with Jed and sooner or later, the conversation would shift from horses to matters of the soul and where you would wind up when you died. There were those, now deceased, if they could talk, would have thanked Jed for those conversations.

As usual, when spring rolled around it was breeding time. Jed did what he always did…check with ‘Tha Boss’ to see what He preferred. This time what Jed heard was a real head scratcher. A combination he would not have ordinarily chosen. The stallion was a brute of a horse, black as hard coal, strong legged, muscles rippling with each stride. His neck was massive with a long flowing mane and tail. He had an exceptional alertness and quickness in spite of his size. He also had an attitude that said, “Don’t mess with me”! He stood eighteen hands high and was named Sanhedrin, Sam for short. The horse was more wild than tame and Jed couldn’t remember why he kept him around.

The brood mare, on the other hand, was one of Jed’s favorites. Her coat was copper colored and shined like a new penny. She was long legged, strong of limb, quick witted and gentle natured… if she liked you. She stood a graceful fifteen and a half hands high. Her name was Rose of Shannon – Rose for short

Jed had learned from experience to trust and obey what the Lord told him to do. Therefore, when it came time to mate the pair, Jed turned the mare out into the fenced paddock. Rose took one look at the stallion and definitely didn’t want to play. She wanted nothing to do with this giant of a horse that seemed intent on doing her bodily harm. What ensued was a lot of running, chasing and in general bad temper on the part of the brood mare. Jed was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake, when all of a sudden, Rose settled down pretty as you please and allowed Sanhedrin to mate with her as if nothing had ever been wrong. “Just like a woman to change her mind,” Jed thought as he watched the pair getting to know each other.

When it came time for the mare to foal, everyone was excited to see what would be the result of the unusual breeding. From the time the foal could stand, she had a mind of her own. As the weeks turned into months, the months into one year and then two it was obvious to Jed the foal was special. There was something different about her in comparison to the other new foals. Jed had trained many fine horses but never one like Lady of Sanhedrin. ‘Lady’ for short. It was as though Lady trained him. Jed never prayed so much over one horse, not so much for her but for himself; that he would know how to nurture this great filly and ultimately what to do with her. There were plenty of folks that put forth all manner of suggestions, most dealing with racing but Jed remained non-committal. It seemed there was a special destiny for this filly that loved to run. Jed wanted God’s wisdom before he made any decision on the disposition of this special foal, in spite of all the hoop-ta-la.

One hot, summer morning, at the start of the filly’s third year, Jed was sitting at his office desk tending to business when he thought he heard a buggy drive by. He looked out the desk window but saw nothing. Still he knew he had heard something so he walked out the front door and looked toward the exercise paddock. That’s when he saw two men getting out of a fancy buggy that had stopped by the corral. The one on the right, smoking a large cheroot, was a big man, well dressed with an air of authority about him. The other was of medium height, stocky built and appeared to be of a lesser caliber. Jed wasn’t expecting anybody so he took his gun belt off the peg by the front door and strapped it on before exiting the house.

The two strangers were looking at the horses that Jed turned out earlier to get exercise. As Jed neared the corral, he had a feeling something was not quite right. He loosened the leather hammer loop of his 44 Colt just in case he needed it, fast!

“Howdy, can I help ya,” he said as he approached the two men.

Hearing Jed, both turned and Jed knew his initial premonition had been right. These two galoots weren’t horse people. As the big man turned, discarding his cigar in the dirt, a slow shallow smile played across his face. He had lifeless eyes set in a hard, even cruel face. Jed’s right hand casually went to his gun butt and rested there. The eyes of the other stranger, whom Jed noticed had an ugly scar on his right cheek, didn’t miss the move. The big man smiled again, extending his hand, and said, “Mr. Parker I presume?”

“Yep, that’s my name, who might you two be?” Jed didn’t shake the man’s hand.

As the man withdrew his hand it turned into a fist before it relaxed.

“My name is Smith. I want to buy that black filly over there.”

“She ain’t fer sale just yet. I ain’t finished with her trainin’. Besides that, I ain’t sure just what I plan ta’ do with ‘er yet. You’ll have to come back in about a year or so. Next time, be sure to send me a telegram afore ya come.” Not once did Jed take his eyes off either man. The big man stiffened but kept his composure.

“I am prepared to offer you twice, in cash, what the going price for such a horse is.”

“I don’t think you quite understood me Mister. The filly ain’t fer sale. In fact she ain’t fer sale to you now or anytime, now git! Jed nodded toward the other stranger, “And take him with ya!”

The man made a move forward but was stopped by Smith’s right arm and a look that said “Not now!” “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Smith said. With that, both men got back in their fancy buggy, turned around and left, leaving a cloud of dust as they went.