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"Ride with me, Bud," calls George as he reins his prize Arabian up to the front of the lineup and huge snowflakes plop onto his felt hat.
"Sorry about that blast, Dad," apologizes Buddy trotting over on the spotted stud with the little dog perched with paws up on the pommel. "I thought those Italian kids at the door were...."
"Never mind about that," interrupts the elder Beatty as a flugelhorn plays Once In Royal David's City and they jog their horses side-by-side to start the procession. "I've got some news about the ranch."
"Gee dad, I knew you might pass it on someday. I'm about as ready as I'll ever be."
"Well son, you can stay on as manager," George begins, tipping his Stetson to a grey-haired man standing in a long wool overcoat in front of a sleek black car nearly hidden by a dusting of white, "but I've sold out, lock, stock, and barrels to Mister Gambino."
__________
Unbeknownst to the present generations, selling out was an old Beatty trick. A Scottish ancestor had done so to an English lord in an early seventeenth century land grab that saw the dispersal of the Eskdale clan to Ireland, Australia, and America. Two centuries later a colonial Beatty again sided with the British and lost the family holdings in New Jersey, resulting in another dispersal, this time to the wilds of western Pennsylvania. The perpetrators called it compromise to save the family wealth or, in some cases, their very necks. Others would say they were traitors deserving of their exile, and our Buddy was entering this latter camp.
__________
"Have you told Alice?" Buddy asks, holding onto the little dog with one big hand and grasping the reins in the other.
"Haven't seen her since your stunt back at the barn," defends his father as a ruckus of caws erupts from the woods behind the barn, "but she doesn't have to know."
"I'll tell her," Buddy growls, shoving the yelping beagle over and squeezing his legs together to send the big horse into a snowy gallop for the back trail.
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