The Payback Man. Carolyn McSparren
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she had a chance to climb out of her truck.
“Guess what you’re going to do this afternoon?” Sarah said. “You like sheep?”
“Not one of my favorite of God’s creatures.”
“I’m sure you’ll learn to love them before the afternoon’s out. You’ve got to vaccinate a herd of about thirty and oversee dipping them.”
Eleanor stared at Sarah. “You’re not going with us, are you? The last thing a pregnant woman needs is to be around all those chemicals.”
“Nope, you and Jack are on your own. You’ve got coveralls and rubber boots in the truck, haven’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Took time to persuade her to stay out of it,” Jack grumbled. “Sheep kick and butt like goats. I’ll not have you putting my godson in danger.”
“I do miss going out on calls,” Sarah said wistfully. “My stomach’s finally settling. I’m only three months pregnant, and I’m already starting to get cabin fever.” She looked down at the top of Jack’s head. “And your god-child is a she, not a he.”
“Not certain yet, are you? I’ll spot you eight to five on a boy.” Despite his years of riding racehorses in the United States and Canada, and his wife from Marion, Arkansas, Jack had traces of his Cockney accent, although overlaid with an Arkansas drawl and an occasional “y’all.”
“You’re just bored, Sarah,” Eleanor said. “Go help Bill Chumley with his exotics or Rick with the cats and dogs. Come on, Jack. Ah, the odor of sheep-dip on the balmy October air—my favorite perfume.”
They drove out before Sarah could change her mind.
“Jack, I have a very strange and terribly personal question to ask you,” Eleanor said after a few minutes on the road. “Tell me to stuff it if you like. I won’t take offense.”
“Takes a lot to offend me, Eleanor. Go ahead and ask.”
“Did you ever know anybody in prison?”
Jack sat up. “This side of the pond or the other?”
“Either.”
“Couple of what I believe are called ‘domestic disputes,’ a couple of public drunkenness cases among my friends when I was riding. Jockeys can come all over bad-tempered when they’ve had a drop too much or too many losses in a row. Small men, you know.”
“Not some overnight thing in the county jail. Real prison. For a long stretch.”
“Oh. Then, no.”
“Darn. I was hoping you could give me some advice. I don’t seem to be handling my new job very well.”
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