Backstretch Baby (2 page)

She dragged a hand over her flaring belly. “I can’t wait to get back to riding. If you weren’t proof that a baby doesn’t kill a jock career, I wouldn’t even consider keeping it.”

Eve bent and scooped up a stray piece of baler twine. Sadly, she hadn’t proven anything. Motherhood had affected her in a variety of ways. She just hadn’t admitted it—not yet, not to anyone. But Ashley was determined to return to her jockey job, even with a baby. And Eve had to tell her the truth.

“Being a mom does change things though.” She wrapped the twine around her fingers. “I ride differently now. It’s no longer just me and the horse. I…worry a lot more.”

She peeked at Ashley’s face. She didn’t confide easily, and it was difficult to talk about something that had taken her so long to accept. But Ashley just nodded— waiting and listening. She was always a good listener when it had anything to do with riding.

Eve wet her lips, hating to show vulnerability. She’d worked too hard, sacrificed so much. She certainly didn’t want to start rumors that she’d quit a successful jockey career because of nerves. But Ashley was responsible for two people now. And she deserved to know.

“Sometimes in a race I’d see an opening,” Eve went on. She fiddled with the twine, yanking it tighter around her hand. “But then I’d hesitate, wondering if it was safe. Worrying about clipping heels and maybe going down and causing a wreck. And that fear was because of Joey. Knowing he needs me. And that the most important thing isn’t the win, but to come home at the end of each day.”

She blew out an achy breath, thinking of Joey’s sweet face. He’d lost his father. No way was he losing his mom too. “And then that hole was gone,” she added, her voice strained. “And the horse and I had lost our chance.”

The twine was pinching her fingers now, and she pulled it off and jammed it alongside the hoofpick in her back pocket.

Ashley just stared, her baby-blue eyes wide with incredulity. “But you were riding great. It was the accidents that forced you to retire.”

“I wasn’t as brave though,” Eve said. “I knew it. The horses knew it too. And their confidence was affected. That’s why I need this training job to work out.”

Ashley’s mouth opened and closed. “That’s awful,” she sputtered, her eyes filled with horror. “No one wants a scared jockey on their horse.”

“No,” Eve said quietly. “Nobody does.”

“But that won’t happen. Not to me. It can’t!”

“You need to know though,” Eve said. “Maybe you’ll be different. But there’s a reason that an ambulance follows the riders. It’s not if we’re going to get hurt, but when, and how badly. My son is the most precious person in my life. I have to think of him.”

Ashley just gaped, as if struggling to reconcile her image of a fearless Eve with this new admission. “But I was modeling myself after you,” she finally wailed. “And I don’t want to work as anything but a jockey. The only time I feel really alive is when I’m on a horse.”

Eve gave an understanding nod. She loved the adrenaline rush too, the feel of a powerful Thoroughbred, the thrill of straining together to reach the wire first. Nothing matched it. But at least she could still exercise the horses in the morning.

“Maybe it won’t be that way for you,” she said. “And there are other jobs at the track. An exercise job is fun. At least then you’d still be riding.”

“But that’s another three months away. And it sucks being a groom.” Ashley’s lip curled with distaste. “Crappy pay, long hours, no benefits. I get kicked and bit and stepped on. No one cheers me on, or even appreciates me.”

“I appreciate you,” Eve said. “But you’re right about the challenges of working here. And that’s why I’m going to keep welcoming the local women. They need a place where they can gather and feel comfortable.”

She crossed her arms. “And I don’t want to hear any more talk about how they’re robbing us blind. Not without proof. Everyone needs a little help sometime.”

Ashley kicked at a rock, sending it bouncing over the gravel. “Maybe they’re not the thieves,” she said. “And it is a nice thing you’re doing.” She paused, then her words escaped in a rush. “It’s just that they all speak Spanish. I don’t know what anyone is saying. I know it’s stupid, but you’re my only friend. And you can talk with them…and I can’t.”

Eve sighed and lowered her arms. Ashley never used to be so self-centered. But pregnancy seemed to have left the girl’s emotions churning. And no doubt she was feeling isolated.

They’d both moved from the racetrack at Santa Anita, and the dorms here were dominated by Hispanic workers. Eve hadn’t even thought about it. Half of her family spoke Spanish at home, and she’d been more preoccupied with how the horses were settling in than her two staff members. Little wonder Ashley had sought companionship with the English-speaking guards.

“I’m just helping the women understand American social programs,” Eve said. “There’s a lot of assistance they don’t know about. And they like to practice their English. You should join us in the afternoons. Maybe even learn some Spanish.”

Ashley’s nose wrinkled. “I’ve tried but my mind always blocks the words.” Then she brightened. “But it might be worth the trouble if it’d help me become a better jockey. Half the time I don’t know what the groom is saying. What they’re telling me about the horse might be important.”

Eve gave a wry nod. Understanding Spanish would definitely be helpful. Most of the grooms and hotwalkers were from Mexico, Guatemala, Ecuador or Peru. Some were illegal. The jobs were low-paying and grueling, which made it even more compelling to help the Hispanic mothers, many of whom felt totally isolated.

She reached out and squeezed Ashley’s shoulder. She was responsible for the girl being here. Up until last month Ashley had been hiding her pregnancy from Jackson and his wife, afraid they wouldn’t let her ride anymore. Or even work in their barn. So it had been prudent to whisk her away, before Jackson made any more staff cuts.

‘It doesn’t look good for our stable to have pregnant people handling racehorses,’ Victoria had said to Jackson, loud enough for Eve to hear. ‘Owners don’t like it either. Just think of the potential lawsuits.’

Jackson had just mumbled some appeasement. He’d bent over backwards to accommodate Eve’s pregnancy. But that had been over four years ago, before he’d married Victoria. Things had changed.

She squared her shoulders and pulled out her phone. Time to call their boss.

“Are you calling Jackson now?” Ashley backed away, her voice rising in alarm. “Victoria is going to freak. Want me to talk, apologize about the bridles?”

“No,” Eve said. “That’s my job. Go help Miguel with the wraps. Then start hand walking Stinger. I’ll be along soon to help.”

Ashley gave a relieved nod and hurried away, clearly confident Eve could handle their boss.

But as Eve trudged toward the privacy of the picnic tables, she pulled in a fortifying breath, aware it wouldn’t be quite so simple.

Jackson answered Eve’s call without any sort of greeting. “How’s it going up there?” he asked. “How did Tizzy work today?”

Her grip tightened around the phone. “I couldn’t gallop any of the horses,” she said. “Our bridles were stolen.”

“Dammit. They can’t miss any days, not with two races this weekend.”

She circled the picnic table. She’d hoped her boss might have some suggestions, something a little more positive. In the old days, he’d been a problem solver, one of the reasons she enjoyed working for him. But it was becoming more and more apparent that this splinter barn was isolated by more than geography.

“We’ll hand walk them under tack,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “They’re already in good shape.”

“I suppose,” Jackson said grudgingly. He was silent for a moment. Then he gave a wry snort. “Tizzy is probably broke enough that you can ride him without a bridle.”

Her fingers loosened a notch. Clearly Victoria wasn’t around. Jackson almost sounded like his old self. “Tizzy’s certainly well trained,” she said. “But the outriders wouldn’t tolerate a bridleless horse.”

“No,” Jackson said. “They’d write you up for sure. But what happened with the tack. Was the door kicked in?”

“No. I must have forgotten to lock it.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. Or Miguel.” He made a sound of disgust. “It was Ashley, wasn’t it? I have to let her go.”

“But she’s pregnant.” Eve’s voice rose. “And she’s a good rider. It’s only three more months. You gave me time.”

“That was different. You were competent and the barn was making money. Besides, Victoria told me about a trainer who was sued when a pregnant groom was kicked.”

“I’ll look out for Ashley,” Eve said quickly. “We’re careful here. And all the horses are quiet except for Stinger.”

“I don’t know…”

“And the two most important owners really like her,” Eve said. “They might even move their horses if she were fired.”

She crossed her fingers, uncomfortable with the little lie. Scott Taylor and Dex Tattrie barely knew Ashley. But both men were fair and they wouldn’t want a pregnant groom kicked to the curb. More importantly, Scott’s wife, Megan, was Eve’s sister-in-law, or would have been if Megan’s brother hadn’t died.

“Bullshit,” Jackson said. “If those men saw how Ashley handles their horses, they’d probably dump me as their trainer. She might be good in the saddle but she’s useless on the ground. And they don’t suffer fools gladly.”

“True,” Eve said. “But Megan likes her, and like most men, Scott listens to his wife.” She couldn’t keep the accusation from her voice.

“You don’t understand,” Jackson said. “Victoria wants things: a new truck, bigger house, regular vacations. At least she wants to help out more. She applied for her trainer’s license and even convinced Eddie Blake to ride for us. He had a win yesterday on the Barkeeper colt.”

Eve’s hand tightened around the phone, almost smothering the small mouthpiece. She’d ridden that colt three times last fall, never finishing better than fourth. No doubt Eddie Blake was one of California’s top jockeys. But if he was riding for Jackson’s barn now—and Victoria wanted to assist with the training—where did that leave Eve? And while it was a relief the topic had switched from pregnant grooms to horses, this certainly wasn’t reassuring news.

“Wow,” she managed. “A new wife really does change things.”

“Don’t worry.” Jackson’s voice lowered. “You’ve earned your spot. Ashley and Miguel might have to go, but you’ll always have a job.
She
can’t change that.”

A lump clogged Eve’s throat, and she slumped against the picnic table. Jackson was a decent man but Victoria was like water on a rock. And in time, rocks crumbled. Victoria had already changed his name from Jack to Jackson, insisting he needed a more distinguished handle. And the way Jackson was whispering now was totally unsettling, as if he’d already relinquished control.

“Just make it easy for me,” Jackson went on. “Win some races. Then Victoria will be happy. With her, it’s all about the bottom line.”

“It’s not that,” Eve said. “She’s insecure, jealous—” She clamped her mouth shut, wishing she wasn’t always so outspoken. Jackson had enough problems dealing with his demanding wife. And Eve wanted them to work it out so his race stable could function smoothly again.

“We need to find you some bridles,” Jackson said, thankfully ignoring her outburst. “Victoria was a hotwalker there but I don’t know if she still has any contacts. Probably best if you buy what you need. We’re screwed if we lose another day of training.”

Not him, Eve thought glumly. But she certainly would be.

“Give me an hour to arrange some credit,” Jackson said, speaking a little faster now, clearly in a hurry to end the call. “There’s a tack store a couple miles south on the highway. Carries everything. Buy what you need to win.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“How’s the motel?”

“We only stayed there the first week,” Eve said. “Ashley qualifies for a dorm room and it’s easier for us to sleep on the grounds.” Especially since some lowlife had lifted Eve’s car battery, leaving her Civic grounded.

“Our room is close to Miguel and the horses,” she added, hoping to distract him. But what kind of trainer didn’t have a car? She could no longer pick up supplies or help out her staff. However, she didn’t want to tell Jackson about every single problem. It would be total failure to be ordered back to Santa Anita without running a single race.

“Good,” Jackson said. A woman’s authoritative voice sounded in the background and it was clear his attention had shifted. “Good luck,” he added hurriedly. “Keep Ashley away from the owners.”

He cut the connection without asking how Banjo’s back was healing, or if Eve had found a female jockey for Tizzy, or even to help pick out a suitable race. It was probably wise not to bring up race conditions though. Victoria had already insisted Stinger be entered for a mile and an eighth, even though the horse was a dedicated sprinter. Eve didn’t want Victoria picking a poor-fitting race for Tizzy as well.

She jammed the phone against the palm of her hand and checked over her shoulder. Ashley was trying to lead Stinger around the small ring, in lieu of his morning gallop. But it was debatable who was in control.

The horse was dragging Ashley around, and she was doing little to correct him. The chain wasn’t wrapped the traditional way around his nose, and the lead shank was too low to be effective. Stinger was a bulldozer, a horse who would take advantage if he could. As usual, Ashley was going to need help. And soon.

Eve pressed Megan Taylor’s number, trying to squeeze in one more call before she rescued Ashley.

“I won’t be working Stinger until Wednesday,” Eve said, after dispensing with their usual round of greetings. “But I’ll let you know how he gallops.”

“Thought you planned to blow him out today,” Megan said. “Is he okay? Is everything all right?”

“He’s fine,” Eve said. She hadn’t planned to talk about the latest setback, but Megan’s interest was always hard to deflect. And within minutes she’d confided the details of the most recent theft.

“That track is a den of thieves.” Megan’s voice bristled with indignation. “First they steal your car battery, then the hay and buckets, now the bridles. How can you possibly train? Is that amount of theft normal?”