The Squires Problem
A man wearing a tweed suit with a giant white mustache and walking stick approached Rory while he was collecting his mail at the local post office a few days after he had talked to Mr. Lonogan.
"You'll be the doctor, then?" the man inquired.
"Yes, that's right. How can I help you?" Rory responded.
"Come with me," the man said. He walked outside to where a bay colored hunter was tethered at a rail. "That will be sixty pound."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Geoff at the bar told me to bring round my best horse for you. Something fast he said. That will be sixty pound including the bridle and saddle."
Rory looked from him to the horse. It was obviously a fine specimen. He didn't want to insult the man by looking over the horse closely, but on the other hand he didn't want an animal that was going to fall over dead the moment he rode it.
"Would you mind if I rode down the way and back? I just want to make sure I can control the animal."
"Realta is a good mount. You shouldn't have any problems."
"I'm not that great a rider," Rory lied. In fact he had spent many hours riding in Yorkshire and had never had any problem.
"Alright, suit yourself," the man said.
Rory mounted and headed down to the village green. The horse was smooth at the trot. When he reached the green he tapped the horse's sides with his heels.
"Holy Christ," Rory muttered under his breath. The horse took off so fast, Rory felt like he was sitting on a stick of dynamite. They were across the green in seconds. Luckily the horse had a soft mouth and responded easily to the bit. Rory turned the horse in a small circle and headed back towards the post office. People in this area did everything by bartering. Sixty pounds was a fair price for the horse, but if he just accepted the price without a blink of an eye the word would be out in a flash. He would be pegged for a sucker.
Rory spotted the man waiting for him outside the post office. He pulled the horse to a halt and jumped down.
"It's a fine mount," Rory said. "A trifle on the fast side. I don't know if it's suitable for a doctor. Might be a bit unseemly for the local practitioner to be seen dashing across the fields."
"Now you can suit yourself, but you won't find a better horse around these parts."
"Might I have the name of the man I'm doing business with?"
"It's Squire Carren."
"I'll have to acquire feed as well. That will be another expense," Rory stalled.
"He doesn't run on petrol," the Squire replied.
"No, no, I suppose your right," Rory paused. "Sixty pounds for the horse and tack plus two months of feed."
The Squires giant mustached twitched up and down while he thought it over.
"Sixty pound for the horse and tack, one month of feed and you buy the round to seal the deal."
"Deal," Rory said. He spit on his hand and extended it to the other man. The squire did the same to seal the deal. They headed to Lonogan's for their drink. Rory had quickly found out Lonogan's was the favorite watering hole for the locals. Ballybunion was a popular tourist destination as people came for the sandy beaches and the golf course built among the dunes. The golf course was built in 1893 and there was talk of expanding it the next year. It attracted tourists from all over Ireland, the UK and Europe and there was even the odd American through to play a round. Despite the erratic train schedule Ballybunion was an idyllic spot.
Today was market day and the bar was abuzz with the locals when Rory and the squire stepped through the door.
"So you bought the horse?" Mr. Lonogan inquired. He didn't bother to ask what they wanted just plunked their drinks on the bar.
"Aye, I did," Rory said as he paid for the drinks. He lapsed back into his brogue when he was here. His more formal speech he had picked up at the university and spending time with Sybil's family was reserved for office hours and paying calls. The men at the bar all leaned in to hear the latest. It was a small town and anything the doctor did was a great source of conversation in the surrounding countryside.
"You found a sweetheart yet?" Mr. Lonogan asked.
"No, not yet. Decided I'm giving up desserts though," Rory said with a twinkle in his eye.
"Too bad, my housekeeper makes a decent plum cake," the squire said. "You can stop for your supper when you bring the payment by." No one in the local area carried that kind of money around in their pocket.
"I'll kindly accept your invitation."
"You going to ride in the race in two weeks since you got a horse now?" Mr. Lonogan asked.
"Didn't know there was one," Rory said.
The bar erupted in voices with all the men relating the details of the race and stories of races past. It was almost dusk by the time Rory got back to his cottage. He turned the horse loose in his back garden. There was more than enough grass for the animal to graze on and it had been too late in the season to plant a garden when Rory arrived. There was a low stonewall around the garden that should be enough to keep the animal in, or at least until Rory could get a paddock built across part of the back where the animal shed was.
Rory was weaving a bit as he headed for the cottage. He had been at the bar all afternoon and hadn't had a thing to eat. His foot knocked against a box that had been left on the back doorstep. A faint sound came out of it. He carried the box into the house and opened it to find a Border collie puppy inside. There was a note in the box.
"Now that you have a horse, you'll need a dog to keep it in line." The note wasn't signed. Rory lifted the puppy out of the box and held the squiggling ball of fur close for a moment. He set the puppy down and went to find him something to eat.
"Guess they don't want me to leave," he said to the dog. "The next thing they'll be leaving a wife on the doorstep, gift wrapped."
"Arf," came the reply. The next moment the shutters on the kitchen window flew open as a horse's head poked in and began chewing on the loaf of bread Rory had gotten out for part of his own supper.
"And what are you going to get into?" he said to the puppy after he threw the loaf out the window and latched the shutters on the horse.
"Arf," came the reply as the puppy bounded off to explore the house.
The next evening when Rory went to Squire Carren's for supper, the housekeeper had been a shocker. The woman had ten years on Rory and was missing three of her front teeth. She did make a decent meal though.
"Good God, do I really look that desperate," he said to Realta as he rode home.
Realta nodded his head in agreement.
"Not you too," Rory groaned.
Two weeks later the race day arrived with a clear sunny sky. The entire town was closed up for the event. Rory had thought himself a decent rider but soon reassessed that notion after he had ridden his new horse a few times. The animal was no farm horse. It was fast, so fast it had other notions when Rory wanted to go through a gate and the horse decided to take the direct route over a fence or ditch. The first time Rory had almost fallen off. Now he accepted there was no going the long way and went over the ditches and fences deliberately. He'd had to put the paddock up quickly as Realta had decided the kitchen was too interesting to stay out of and had pushed the back door open twice and invited himself into the house.
The squire's men had dropped off the cart full of hay and shaken their heads at Rory.
"The squire got the better deal," they told him. "That horse is fast but he's smart. He's always into something. You'd best watch out or he'll be wearing your laundry next."
"Oh great," Rory groaned out. He put the hay into the side room of the shed and put a lock on the door.
"Unless you have figured out how to use a key, you won't be helping yourself," he said to the horse.
The next two days Realta was busy hanging around the shed poking at the lock. When he couldn't get the door open he was off looking for something else to get into to.
The local band was playing and people were excited for the race when Rory arrived. He rode up on Realta and jumped down. He went to register and was given a garland of ribbons to wear around his sleeve. Realta was dancing and fidgeting with the crowd and noise.
"You best watch he doesn't buck you off," Squire Carren teased him.
"I think it would be more like he doesn't get loose and eat all the refreshments," Rory retorted.
The squire just laughed.
The single women tied their bonnets to poles in the sand that had been put up for a finish line.
"Which one are you going to pick Doctor?" Miss O'Sullivan asked.
"I have no idea," Rory replied. "I'll let my horse choose."
The group he was standing with all laughed.
There were twelve riders in the race. When the gun sounded they were off. Realta reared as soon as he heard the shot and took off after the other horses. Rory soon learned he was just along for the ride. Realta didn't like running at the back of the pack and was moving at a dizzying pace. They made up time in the obstacles as Realta flew over every water hole and hedge like it wasn't there. They were out front and headed for the finish line. Rory put out his hand and grabbed whatever bonnet was closest before Realta spotted the refreshment table and veered towards it. It took every ounce of Rory's strength to pull Realta to a stop before he reached the object of his desire.
When he finally got Realta calmed enough to dismount. One of the local men came forward to hold the horse while Rory was pushed towards the winner's platform.
"Watch out or he'll be taking you for tea," Rory called to the man.
Rory was presented with the cup and a pretty young girl with bouncing red curls came forward to claim her hat. Everyone cheered when Rory kissed her as tradition dictated. He had never seen the girl before. She was certainly pretty enough. Another young man glared at him as he lead his horse by. Rory quickly extricated himself from the podium and the red haired girl before her boyfriend came to let him have it for kissing his sweetheart.
Rory caught up with the man who had been holding Realta. The man was running through the sand dunes chasing the horse. Realta had the man's cap firmly between his teeth and was busy leading him on a merry chase. Rory whistled for the horse. He came obediently trotting over for the treat he knew was in Rory's pocket.
"That is one sly animal," the man said. "It's a wonder you don't send him to the glue factory."
"He just a little fractious," Rory replied. "You have to get to know him."
"Better you than me, lad."
Rory just laughed before he headed back to the festivities and found a place to tether his horse where he couldn't get himself into any more trouble.