At noon Jeremy comes by the stables and watches me saddle up the horses. They have to be ridden every other day to keep them in shape, even though they aren’t the show mounts we use in the re-enactments. One of the steeds is an old mare well past her prime; the other’s a stallion that used to do the Bunker Hill run until he pulled up lame after the battle one day. The third one’s a young colt Marie wants to train for the carriage ride. When I get all three saddled, Jeremy pulls himself up on the stallion and starts to prance around the yard like he doesn’t have anything else he should be doing.
“Are they hiring any new smiths?” I ask as I swing into the mare’s saddle. “You’re always over here—they’re going to fire your ass soon, demote you to stable hand.”
He laughs at that. “Then what w
