Read Online Billy Boy by Jean Mary Flahive - Free Book Online Page A

horse!”
    â€œShe’s wild!”
    The frantic horse ran straight at Billy. Darting to the side, his gaze steadfast on the horse, Billy recognized her white-eyed fear.
    â€œDon’t shoot her!” he screamed. “She’s just scared is all.”
    The sorrel mare angled past the boulder, but the caisson smashed against the rocky outcrop and overturned, throwingher to the ground. Pinned, with the limber pushed against her side, the spooked horse thrashed her legs wildly in the air.
    Outraged, the instructor pushed through the crowd of soldiers.
    â€œCorporal, shoot the damn horse. She’s useless to us.”
    The corporal raised his musket and aimed at the mare’s head.
    â€œNo! Don’t shoot,” cried Billy as he ran in front of the corporal. “She ain’t hurt. Scared is all.”
    â€œOut of the way, farmer,” shouted the Dutchman.
    Ignoring the officer, Billy inched toward the horse, crooning softly. Nostrils flaring, the mare panted wildly, ears flattened against her head. As Billy crouched down next to her on his knees, the horse made a high-pitched squeal. Still, Billy moved slowly to her, stroking her between the eyes, careful to dodge her thrashing legs. He caressed the mare’s long damp neck, applying pressure until her head stopped whipping back and forth.
    Around him, the men grew quiet. Billy glanced nervously at the corporal. The corporal frowned in response, grunted, and slipped his finger from the trigger, his gun still aimed at the horse.
    Slowly, Billy reached for the reins, his crooning growing softer. He signaled to Harry. Nodding, Harry moved in slowly, unhitched the horse from the gun carriage, and backed away. Then Billy raised himself off the ground and, standing stock-still, gave a firm tug on the reins. The mare seemed to calm completely, settling her legs slowly to the ground.
    Billy looked up as the Dutchman placed a hand on the corporal’s arm and lowered the musket. Billy smoothed the horse’s neck and spoke to her firmly, tugging on the reins and prodding the horse to her feet. He stood square to her, then turned sideways and took several steps forward, aware that the horseshadowed his footsteps across the field. When he reached the line of posts, he walked to the one farthest from the big guns and tied the reins securely with a double knot.
    â€œWhat’s your name, farmer?” The Dutchman was suddenly behind him.
    Billy turned and quickly lowered his gaze to the ground. “You sore at me, sir?”
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œPrivate Laird.”
    â€œYou work with horses much, Private Laird?”
    â€œSometimes. Like when Mr. Hall—”
    â€œHorses spook easily around heavy artillery. Nice work just then.”
    â€œAin’t no need of shooting her. Scared is all.”
    The officer stared at him, contempt written plainly on his face. His jaw tightened. “We’ll be firing all morning. You’ll remain here for the rest of the drill and mind the horses. It’s about the only thing you’re good for,” he said as he turned abruptly and strode off.
    Billy walked along the posts, checking the ties on each of the horses. Earth spattered on the ridge beyond as the large guns erupted in thunderous roars. He moved among the horses, stroking their heads and necks, relieved that he was no longer part of the loading crew.
    As evening gathered over the ridge, Billy stared out across the Potomac, turning up his collar and buttoning his jacket. The last rays dropped behind the western hills. It was strangely quiet, as if something was missing. The distant cannonading had ceased. He wondered if the battle was over or if the cannons would fire again at dawn. As darkness settled around him, he leaned his head back and studied the sky. He hadn’t remembered to lookfor the North Star since coming south. Excited, he searched first for the now-familiar place in the sky to locate the