Page 38 of Trickster King

“Even better. I got to hear one of your agents blurt ‘what the actual fuck?’ while recording what he presumed would be a disaster. I loved it. Then I was sent the video along with an accusation of taking you out in one of my trucks and trailers to treat you. I replied with a question, demanding to know who the hell had gotten to my husband. Then we both worried. So, enlighten us. Who taught you to drive a truck and trailer with such finesse?”

“Charlie.”

My wife paused. “The driving instructor for the RPS?”

“Yes, him. Charlie taught me. It was in one of your trucks and trailers, too. That part scared the liver out of both of us. What would you do to us if we scratched either? Neither of us wanted to find out.”

Her laughter burst out of her. “I’ll tell Charlie he did a great job and show him the video so you’re given a fun course. I should have guessed. He has you twice a week trying to teach you how to be a proper Texan. I’d lost hope long ago.”

I couldn’t wait to pick her up in my new, sporty car just to see her expression. “Please forgive me for the rescues.”

“Of course. You’ve been working so hard to help the Akhal-Tekes. I wouldn’t dream of stopping you from getting an entire line of them. I’ll handle the ultrasounds of the mares and the genetic testing to make sure we don’t have to take any precautions.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“I’ll get to work on the fungus problem, too. Expect news of that to hit by tomorrow morning. You’re okay with your medical files for that being released to the public?”

“I’m all right with it. Just warn the RPS before you do it as they’ll surely have a mass meltdown. And get one of the RPS clinic folks to give you the doctored files so nothing private slips up.”

“You have privacy?”

“I mean, I’ve been fertility tested a few times.”

“The results of your fertility test are already public knowledge, Pat.”

I lost the war with myself and choked on a laugh. “Which child do you think confirmed my fertility test results with the kingdom?”

“The kingdom was pretty happy with number one, they were dancing at number two, and after number three, the glee became concern we might not survive our herd.”

I snorted in an attempt to control my laughter, gave up, and chuckled openly. “I lost count of the numbers of offers to babysit. But some recanted, as they realized if we had babysitters, we might end up with even more children.”

“We need babysitters.”

“We’re going to need an entire herd of babysitters to handle our herd. Then the babysitters will probably require therapy.” I swung off the mare’s back, praised her, and led her into the stable. All but one RPS agent worked at grooming the animals, making sure they’d had breakfast, and I recognized one of the jugs we used to haul antifungal to my ranch in an effort to keep me from getting ill. “Ah. Someone brought the antifungals so my horses are getting treated. Probably leftover from when I visited Bullmanchu and didn’t insist on meeting with all my favorites. I didn’t take a nap in the pasture at least. I just grabbed a horse or three, saddled one, and brought in a straggler. I’ll take a shower and get the physicians to prescribe the antifungals again just in case I can’t beat off another infection.”

“Those precautions are acceptable. If you get an infection again, we’ll get you a week off work and make the congress call in with the truly important matters. A week won’t hurt anyone.”

On top of the two or three weeks I’d be stealing, an extra week probably wouldn’t kill any members of the congress, although I would worry for their sanity by the time I returned. “Call that agricultural guy we pay to help write up guidelines for checking the fields. He may as well earn his keep.”

“You mean our gardener?”

“He knows plants, and he was the one who identified how I’d picked up the infection—and he keeps it out of our gardens. I bet he’d have good thoughts. I bet one of those thoughts is a scolding for letting our fields get into that condition, but we can handle a scolding, especially as we’re working on fixing the problem.”

My wife sighed. “I’ll take care of it. Go rescue those horses and get a report on how bad their hooves are, the cost to fix the problem, and if they’ll have any other health complications from exposure to the fungus.”

“I’ll have someone bring you info as soon as it’s ready. Can you nudge Padrino and ask him to give me a call? I have a question for him.”

“Sure. He’s around and about today. He is getting information on the antifungal you’re using because he has a large stock of cattle that probably needs to be treated for some reason.”

“Not sure how that happened,” I replied. “How strange.”

“You’re something else, Pat.”

“The store that carries it is half hour out of town and is the veterinary supply depot for Dallas. They keep it in high supply at my request.”

“Because you understood, probably years ago, that if your field has the fungus, others have the fungus, and if there is a fungal outbreak, you need a supply to handle a lot of animals at one time.” My wife giggled. “Just when I think you can’t surprise me any more, you do something so practical it’s painful—and then it works out to be accurate.”

“I was fixing to suggest ranches keep a stock just in case. I won’t have to now.”

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