Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (113 page)

“Does Dino have him in a stall next to that big chestnut, Rocky? Horse with the Roman nose?”

Becky nodded, picturing the big red horse. Shane said he was a six-year-old who ran in low-level claimers, but his real value was in settling the colts. Rocky had stared over Becky’s head as though she were beneath his notice, and she hadn’t dared approach him. The horse didn’t look like he wanted new friends.

“Tell me about Rocky?” Becky asked, reaching for any subject that might interest Martha. “How does he settle the colts?”

“It’s a boy thing. Rocky’s an older, tougher stallion. Hunter’s not ready to challenge him for mares, attention or even food. Often that translates into a more tractable racehorse. Makes them quieter so they can save energy and focus on running.” A sparkle animated her face, reminding Becky of how she’d looked when Malcolm was alive. “Surely you’ve noticed that sort of thing, dear,” Martha added with a knowing smile. “Young men try to impress a pretty girl but when a truly dynamic man walks into the room, they turn meek and back off.” Her voice turned wistful. “Malcolm had that effect, even before he made his fortune.”

Becky nodded, picturing Dino when he entered the skybox, the men shrinking, the women fluttering. “I know exactly what you mean,” she said.

***

Becky eased the car past the training track. Stephanie was still riding, spraying dirt as she galloped a bay horse along the inner rail. Clearly there would be plenty of time to groom Lyric and still be ready for their trail ride.

She parked by Stephanie’s bright compact car. Slim slouched by the barn door. Becky squared her shoulders before walking toward him, determined not to let his animosity sour the morning.

“Lyric’s in her stall.” He studied his clipboard, not looking at her. “I hear you and Stephanie are going for a ride.”

“Yes. Dino said it was okay to leave the ring if someone was with me.”

“Be careful,” he said. “That mare isn’t always obliging, and the old lady would be a mite upset if you got hurt.”

“I’ll be careful, thanks.” The tightness in her chest eased a notch. Slim didn’t seem to hold a grudge. He wouldn’t meet her eyes but at least he was talking, even worrying about her safety.

She continued down the aisle. Lyric poked her head over the stall door, nickering a greeting and lifting her spirits higher. A barn, a horse, a sunny Texas morning. Life was perfect.

She entered the stall, grooming kit in hand, and pulled a peppermint from her back pocket. Despite the controversy surrounding Slim, he had provided several useful tips. Peppermints
were
easier to feed, especially when you were riding and didn’t have room for apples or carrots.

She buckled Lyric’s halter and slipped the lead through the ring in the wall. The mare instantly flattened her ears, reminding Becky of her own helpless feeling when she’d been wrangled into the esthetic chair. Maybe the horse would be more cooperative if she wasn’t tied. Maybe she’d be so happy, she wouldn’t kick.

Becky unsnapped the lead. The mare didn’t sidle away. In fact, she even tilted her head, encouraging Becky to brush between her ears.

“Okay, girl,” she murmured, spending extra time on the horse’s itchy spots. So far, so good. Lyric usually pinned her ears and fidgeted, but now she was nothing but a sweetheart. Becky scooped up a hoof pick and picked the debris out of her front feet, eying Lyric’s back legs with healthy respect.

The mare always tried to jerk away from Slim and Dino and gave a nasty kick if touched on the flank. Plus she was loose, so she’d be able to put her head down, turn and slam with both feet and really do damage.

Just imagining that kind of kick made Becky’s body ache—she’d be a fool to risk it. She leaned over the stall guard and checked the aisle for Slim. A stable hand rushed past with a wheelbarrow but didn’t slow, obviously hurrying to finish his chores. Lyric tracked his progress with curious eyes but still didn’t move.

Becky tugged at her lower lip. So far, the mare hadn’t done anything wrong, and Lyric did seem to like her. Maybe she should give her a chance. She took a deep breath, ran a hand along Lyric’s back and down her left hind.

“Up,” she said, trying to sound like the request was perfectly reasonable.

Lyric obligingly lifted her leg.

Becky was so shocked she dropped the hoof pick in the straw. After a moment of fumbling, she cleaned the hoof and placed Lyric’s foot back down.

Wow. That was easy.

Hiding her shock, she rounded the mare and asked her to lift the right hind. Lyric lifted it, docile as any lesson pony. And then they were finished.

Becky tossed the hoof pick back into the grooming kit and gratefully patted the mare’s neck. “You’re not really a bitch at all,” she whispered.

She grabbed her English saddle and pad, hoping to be tacked up by the time Stephanie finished galloping. A sweaty horse clopped down the aisle, led by a groom, and followed by a bouncing Stephanie.

“Hey, girl!” Stephanie paused. “Love your sexy haircut. I’ll just throw my saddle on Hank and join you outside. One minute.”

And it would only be one minute. It was incomprehensible how Dino and Stephanie tacked up so quickly. It took her at least triple the time. But she wanted to be on Lyric’s back before Stephanie came out with Hank. Didn’t want her new riding buddy to see her awkward mount using baler twine.

Stephanie followed her rueful glance and pulled a red jackknife from her pocket. “You won’t need that baler twine anymore. Let me cut it off. Dino arranged for a fancy mounting block.”

Becky nodded, relieved she could get rid of the twine dangling from her stirrup, a sure mark of a greenhorn. “That was nice of him,” she said.

“Yes, but he is nice. To everyone, if you know what I mean.” Stephanie expertly sliced the twine. She refolded her knife, her gaze sharpening on Becky’s face. “Look, I don’t want to be out of line here, but you should know he has a lot of female friends.”

“I know that.” Becky turned her head and fiddled with her stirrup, avoiding Stephanie’s probing blue eyes.

“It’s just that you’re really sweet. Those other nurses from the big house wouldn’t even talk to me. Not one of the six—”

“Six?” Becky’s head shot up. “That many?”

“Yeah,” Stephanie gave a dismissive shrug, “but not at the same time. Dino believes in spreading his love. Thinks that way he won’t get hooked again. Look, I’m not really a gossip,” she said. “Just thought you should know. Here, take this.” She pressed her jackknife into Becky’s hand. “Every horseperson should have a knife.”

Becky squeezed the small knife, moved by the empathy in Stephanie’s eyes. She’d always considered the gallop girl too cool to be hurt, and her jealousy when Stephanie flirted with Dino now left her ashamed. She hadn’t wanted Dino sleeping with Stephanie but had given no thought to how the new rules might hurt this girl.

“But what about you?” Becky’s voice thickened with regret. “Do you still want to…see him?”

“Nah. I tried to change him and couldn’t. My new guy is way easier.” Her smile turned mischievous. “Just remember, there are some horses you buy, and some horses you only ride. Now let’s get going before it’s too hot. I’ll grab Hank.”

Becky led Lyric from the barn, unsettled by Stephanie’s blunt words. No doubt about it, if she did decide to sleep with Dino, he had plenty of experience. And on the positive side, he seemed to leave everyone happy. Old girlfriends, new girlfriends, even Martha—they all loved him.

“I’ll open the gate.” Slim’s voice cut into her thoughts. “There’s a new mounting block in the ring. You girls riding far?”

“Don’t know.” Becky checked her watch. Nine-forty. “Guess it depends on the heat.” She led Lyric toward the big red block.

The mare snorted and planted her feet.

“Dino warned she might be scared. Race riders always get legged up. They don’t use an old woman mounting block.” Slim scowled at Lyric. “And that bitch mare is never helpful about anything.”

Lyric’s nostrils flared pink as she stared at the strange plastic steps in the middle of the ring.

“Guess it looks a little odd,” Becky said, disappointed the mare didn’t trust her enough to move closer. “But it beats scrambling up on a piece of rope.”

“Most jocks vault up, although it’s not great for the horse’s back.” Slim jabbed his thumb at Stephanie as she led her horse from the barn. “Watch her.”

Stephanie grabbed a piece of Hank’s mane and lithely swung into the tiny exercise saddle. Becky shook her head in awe. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you to mount.” Stephanie shrugged. “There’s lots of time.”

Maybe, Becky thought, but vaulting up looked like a demanding maneuver, and she’d never considered herself particularly athletic. Probably she’d always be stuck using the old woman steps.

She sighed and coaxed Lyric a few inches closer to the mounting block, fervently wishing she’d mounted before Slim and Stephanie were around to watch.

Lyric edged closer to the block, every muscle in her sleek body taut.

“She looks spooky. Want me hold her?” Slim asked.

“It’s okay,” Becky said. “I have a way to make her stand.” She dropped three peppermints on the ground, stepped up on the block and scrambled into the saddle while Lyric gobbled up the mints. “I’m not sure if that’s in any training manual,” she added sheepishly.

A ghost of a smile tugged at Slim’s mouth. “Actually Jill used that trick when she was little. Guess whatever works. Listen.” He scraped his boot in the dirt. “Don’t ride too fast today, Becky. Take it easy.”

“Come on,” Stephanie called with a hint of impatience. “That sun is getting hot.”

Becky nodded at Slim but knew she didn’t intend to take it easy. “Which way?” she asked, following Stephanie.

“Dino told me to stick to the hillside.” Stephanie gestured. “And not let you go too fast.”

There it was again. Another warning. Everyone considered her incompetent—someone who needed special mounting steps—and her determination to learn swelled. “Dino just doesn’t want me to beat him.” She forced a nonchalant smile, wishing it really
were
possible to beat him. That would prove she could actually ride. It might even impress him.

“Well, you should be able to beat him if you’re on Lyric,” Stephanie said. “But she’s used to riders crouching over her withers. Shorten your stirrups and get your ass out of the saddle so she knows what you want.”

Becky tucked her knees higher, imitating Stephanie’s position. “Like this?”

Lyric definitely perked up when she cranked her legs. Now there was a bounce in the mare’s walk along with an arch in her neck. But it felt awkward, like she was leaning too far forward. She missed being able to grip Lyric’s sides with her legs.

Stephanie sighed. “Good try, but you look funny. Those English saddles suck for hardcore galloping.”

Becky looked dubiously at Stephanie’s exercise saddle. It was tiny, probably only seven pounds, although race saddles were even smaller. And ‘hardcore galloping’ seemed a little faster than she wanted to go. Still, she’d never be able to beat Dino unless she shook off her fear. “Could I try your saddle?” she asked impulsively.

“Wow, you want to step on the gas? Can’t say I blame you,” Stephanie said. “But first, practice in that saddle.”

Becky stared over Lyric’s pricked ears, concentrating on feeling her horse’s rhythm. With her legs pulled up, balance was more important, not grip. Clearly jockeys were superb athletes to gallop at breakneck speed, surrounded by a bunch of racing horses.

“That’s better,” Stephanie said after another twenty minutes. “Later we can trot to the bottom of the hill, switch saddles and we’ll gallop up the ridge.”

“You may not be able to keep up,” Becky teased. “Not if I have your wicked fast saddle.”

Stephanie snorted and Becky took a second to admire her supple grace. “You’re a beautiful rider,” she said.

Stephanie flashed a big smile. “Imagine getting paid to do something that’s this much fun. My money problems disappear when I’m riding. Now watch my hands, and make sure you don’t jerk Lyric in the mouth. You can’t use my saddle until you’re totally balanced.”

After a little more practice, Stephanie finally pronounced her ready. Both horses stood quietly while they changed tack. Stephanie vaulted up, but Becky’s stomach squirmed. Now that they’d switched saddles, Lyric’s back looked foreign—the saddle too tiny, the seat too little, the stirrups way too short.

Stephanie spotted her hesitation. “You can lengthen the stirrups, like an old woman.” She snickered. “Or I could dismount and boost your ass into the saddle.”

“I was starting to like you,” Becky said, leading Lyric to the side of a jagged rock and searching in her pocket for another mint.

Lyric sidled away, then stopped and sniffed. Becky edged closer and stepped onto the rock. Now she could reach the stirrup, but what she really wanted was to learn Stephanie’s vaulting move. She visualized the mane grab, the graceful hop, the leg hook over the horse’s back. Dino might not notice she was galloping more aggressively, but vaulting onto a horse’s back would have to impress him.

She dropped two peppermints on the ground, sucked in a resolute breath, grabbed mane and swung up. Her face slammed into Lyric’s shoulder. The pain burned her nose as she tumbled to the ground and scraped the side of the rock. “Shit,” she muttered.

“Actually that wasn’t a bad first attempt. I’m surprised you tried.” Stephanie wasn’t even laughing. “Try again. You might need a run-on.”

But Lyric finished the peppermints and sidled away from the rock, her eye flashing with a streak of perverseness. Becky resolutely wiped her sore nose then backed Lyric alongside the rock. If she dropped the reins, used her last remaining peppermint and took three running steps, she might be okay. But Lyric would have to stand perfectly still and the stubborn glint in her eye indicated trouble.

It would be fun to try though. Especially with someone around to help. She could feel Steph’s encouragement rolling over her like waves.

Becky stepped back, dropped the peppermint, and took a running leap. Lyric stepped sideways just as she flung a leg over her back.
Oh, God
. This was bad. Her heart pounded and she stared down at the flashing ground. If she let go of Lyric’s mane, she’d be down between the horse’s feet—her deadly kicking feet and the unyielding rock. She tried to pull herself up but her knee bumped Lyric’s ribs, and the mare lurched further to the right.