Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (46 page)

“He’s not here yet,” Jessica said as she picked up Buddy’s grooming kit.

“Of course he’s here,” Maria said. “He’s checking the track.”

Damn. Mark was here, and her horse was the dirtiest one in the barn. Jessica rushed into the stall and rubbed furiously at Buddy’s manure stains, even using some of her herbal hair conditioner to tame his knotted tail. Buddy stood obligingly, flicking his ears as though mystified by her panic. The gelding’s serenity amused her. According to Maria, grooms were supposed to calm the horses, not the other way around.

“You’re a good boy, Buddy,” she whispered. He pressed his velvety muzzle into her hand, tickling her fingers with his whiskers. He needed a shave, she decided, remembering that Assets’ ears and muzzle had been neatly trimmed. Obviously ‘big horses’ received special attention, and she frowned with a mother’s indignation. Assets was a cocky brat who pushed and nipped, while Buddy was a sweet, undemanding horse who only wanted to please.

She rushed to the tack room, resolving to be the best groom Buddy ever had. Besides, it would be good experience for her dog business.

Buddy’s tack, soft, clean and freshly oiled, hung beneath his nameplate. The saddle was tiny, and she carried it gingerly down the aisle, amazed riders would dare gallop in something so flimsy.

“Make sure it’s tight,” Maria warned. “A slipping saddle can kill.”

“Could you check it for me?” Jessica asked, trying to keep the alarm from her voice. “Just to make sure? It’s been a while since…well, since I saddled a racehorse.”

“I’ll check it.” Mark’s deep voice sounded behind her.

Relieved, she glanced over her shoulder to where he sat on a muscular gray horse. She’d known skiers who were hurt because of poorly adjusted equipment, and she didn’t want to be responsible for any wrecks.

Mark stepped off his horse and passed the reins to Maria. “Good grooming job,” he said as he entered the stall. “I noticed Buddy was dirty this morning.”

She flushed with pleasure, suddenly glad she hadn’t wasted time with a shower.

“Saddle pad needs to be shoved above the withers. Girth tightened another two holes.” He adjusted the tack with expert hands. “Buddy doesn’t need wraps but when he comes back, check his legs. He’s your responsibility. You can walk over to the gap now and watch him work.”

She nodded, deciding she’d ask someone else what and where the gap was. She didn’t want to risk shattering Mark’s patience. Besides, his virile presence seemed to suck away all her oxygen. He was standing so close she could feel his heat, smell a whiff of aftershave, something nice and piney and…appealing.

He strode from the stall, remounted his patient gray, and the second set of horses followed him from the shedrow.

“Quit daydreaming and get Buddy in the aisle,” the last exercise rider called, impatiently snapping his whip against his boot.

“May I follow you to the gap?” she whispered as she boosted him into the saddle, copying the method the other grooms used.

The rider, a young man called Slim, was amazingly light with muscle-corded arms, and he laughed once he was on Buddy’s back. “Just follow any horse, greenie. We’re all going to the gap.”

He spoke much too loud, and she winced as Mark’s amused chuckle drifted down the aisle.

She trailed the string of horses past endless rows of barns but didn’t gawk around, too fascinated by the animals’ sheer beauty. All the horses looked majestic, even mysterious as they walked through the mist, but Buddy looked much the best. The rising sun painted a glint on his coat, and every strand of his thick tail gleamed. He glanced back twice, as though checking if she were following, but that could have been her imagination. Mark definitely didn’t look back.

Clearly her boss was well-respected; people called out greetings as he led his line of horses. The amiable joshing reminded her of ski events. Odd, she hadn’t thought about skiing in almost twenty-four hours. Hadn’t thought about Anton and Cindy’s engagement. Horse work was certainly a consuming affair.

The eager horses outstripped her awkward walk, and she had no idea how much further the gap was. When a golf cart slowed and offered a lift, she accepted with a grateful smile.

“Heading to the gap?” the silver-haired driver asked.

“Sure am,” she said. “Going to watch my horse work.”

She was quite certain she had the lingo right but noticed his gaze flickered over her credentials. He didn’t speak again, only whipped the golf cart up to the rail just as Buddy walked onto the track. Mark twisted in the saddle, one hand on his horse’s rump, face expressionless as she stepped from the cart.

She gave him a breezy smile before leaning over the rail to concentrate on the five horses from her barn.
Her barn
. The notion filled her with a heady sense of belonging. Not one day, and already she was bursting with information. The gap was self-explanatory and merely an opening in the rail where the horses walked from the backside onto the track.

Every horse on the property seemed to be exercising. Some riders were standing, some trotting, others galloping. They looked like monkeys hunched over the horses’ necks; it was rather incredible they didn’t tumble into the dirt.

For a moment she lost sight of Buddy, but suddenly he was visible again, trotting toward her through the thinning mist, his breath mingling with the primal thud of hooves. It was sheer magic. She gripped the rail, drinking in the sights, the sounds, the smell, savoring the moment like a snapshot.

Buddy trotted past and when Slim nodded a greeting, she puffed up, feeling like she’d just received the secret handshake. Her gaze slid back to Mark. He was watching his five horses, although with all the traffic it was probably hard to keep a visual. On the mountain, skiers wore bright jackets and helmets but at the track, most of the horses looked identical. Mark’s brown saddle pads were simply too nondescript to stand out.

She crossed her arms. Tomorrow she’d braid bright ribbons along Buddy’s mane so he’d be easier to spot.

Mark stiffened and abruptly galloped off, without any obvious signal to his aggressive horse. He pulled alongside Buddy. The two riders spoke for a moment before turning and heading toward the gap. Slim grinned, Buddy looked frustrated and Mark looked pissed.

“Did you bring a shank, Jessica?”

She wheeled at Dino’s abrupt question and shook her head. Dino stood five feet to her left, a stopwatch and clipboard in one hand and wearing a serious expression instead of his usual grin.

“You should always have a shank, towel and hoof pick,” he added, “and judging from Mark’s face you’re going to need it.”

“I didn’t know,” she sputtered. “He told me to go the gap. He didn’t say pack a bag.”

“He shouldn’t have to,” Dino said as he jotted something on his clipboard.

Jessica sighed. Mark did look annoyed—rather unfortunate as the morning had been going so well. The nice man in the golf cart had a tangle of equipment in his basket; maybe he had an extra shank. She walked up to him, flashing her most charming smile.

“Do you have a lead shank I could borrow?” she asked. “I seem to have misplaced mine, maybe dropped it when I was getting into your cart.”

He lowered his binoculars in surprise. “A shank? Yeah, sure. Just return it to barn thirty-nine.”

She accepted it with grateful thanks and was back at the gap by the time Mark arrived with Buddy.

“Did this horse have all his shoes when you cleaned his feet?” Mark asked.

Her hands tightened around the leather line. She hadn’t cleaned Buddy’s feet. But now she remembered her camp lessons and how important it was—the most important part of grooming. She studiously linked the chain through Buddy’s bit, the way other grooms had done with their horses, and managed to avoid Mark’s hard stare.

“The shoes were good and tight this morning,” she said.

“He probably lost the shoe on the walk over,” Slim said quickly. “I felt him take a funny step.”

Mark blew out a sigh. “Take Buddy back and walk the shedrow. He’s hopping out of his skin.” But he gave Jessica a long look before trotting off.

“You owe me one, greenie. But it works for me.” Slim shrugged off her grateful smile. “Stop this old guy so I can grab a coffee before the next set. I’m a little hung over today.” He gave Buddy a quick pat before swinging to the ground and hurrying off.

“I’m sorry, fellow,” she whispered as she led Buddy away. “I’m just learning how to take care of you.”

Her arms and knee throbbed by the time she wrestled Buddy back to the barn. The gelding had been primed to run and was unwilling to accept the day was over. Several times he balked as though positive they were going the wrong way, and she was relieved to see one of Mark’s hot walkers, a rather large woman, returning a cooled-out horse to a waiting groom.

“This guy is supposed to walk the shedrow,” Jessica said, reaching out to pass her Buddy’s lead.

“Well, I’m not doing it.” The woman raised a hammy elbow and barged past. “I’m already walking an extra horse this week because
somebody
can only handle Buddy.”

“Well, somebody’s cranky,” Jessica said under her breath, feeling a tad cranky herself. After all, she’d risen at four with no shower, no coffee, no breakfast.

Buddy gave her shoulder an impatient nudge, so she turned back to the horse. He was a sweet fellow, and she really didn’t mind walking him around the shedrow. But as she passed the row of stalls, she noticed every single one bristled with fresh straw. Every stall but Buddy’s.

“Stick him on the hot walker, kid,” Maria called, pointing at the mechanical arms that guided the horses in small circles. “Then you can clean his stall before boss gets back.”

Jessica nodded and turned Buddy toward the far corner. She’d seen horses walking on the contraption yesterday, and it seemed a clever, labor-saving device. There was a nasty brown horse already tied to the walker who squealed and kicked when they approached. However, Buddy didn’t seem at all concerned about the horse’s poor manners so she clipped him on the opposite side and stepped back to watch the action. The brown horse stopped kicking, and both animals strolled around by themselves, seemingly best of friends. Perfect.

She grabbed a wheelbarrow and rushed to Buddy’s stall, guessing she had about twenty minutes before Mark returned. Plenty of time to pass inspection. But Buddy was a messy horse, not pooping in one corner but spreading it around as though undecided which part of the stall was best.

Clink
. Her pitchfork hit the tip of a horseshoe protruding from the straw. She stepped back and scanned the aisle. No one was looking, so she hid the shoe in the soiled straw and rushed the laden wheelbarrow to the manure pile.

She finished by shaking out three bales of straw then stood back and admired the comfortable stall. Buddy would surely sleep well tonight; in fact, it looked more inviting than her dark room.

Maria sniffed as she shuffled past lugging two buckets of soapy water. “Boss will go broke if you waste that much straw every day. Now grab your horse and lead him around the shedrow. Boss doesn’t like us to use the hot walker much.”

Boss, boss, boss. It was apparent Maria was intimidated by Mark, and Jessica was beginning to feel she couldn’t do anything right, no matter how hard she tried. However, she shrugged off the criticism and hurried to get Buddy. He nickered when she approached, and the welcoming sound put a bounce back in her step—she was glad his stall was full of fresh straw.

A set of horses, hot and sweaty, returned from the track. She plastered on an innocent smile and led Buddy past Mark.

He didn’t smile back, just stared at her with astute blue eyes. “Now what have you been up to while I was gone?” he asked as he stepped down from his gray.

“I cleaned Buddy’s stall. And walked him. And he has lots of fresh straw. Fresh water too,” she said. “Guess my work is finished.”

“That part of your work might be finished,” he drawled, “but the aisle needs cleaning. Plus the farrier is coming in half an hour. So stick around. You’ll have to hold your horse for him.”

Her shoulders slumped, but she grabbed a rake and helped tidy the shedrow. She’d been looking forward to a shower, breakfast and nap. It was amazing one horse could be so much work.

Maria shrugged in sympathy. “You won’t have time to join us for lunch, but there’s still time to check out the dorm yard sale.”

A yard sale. Jessica had never been to one before, but her hope sparked at the possibility of finding a mousetrap. She simply couldn’t sleep in a mice-infested room. Despite Mark’s casual acceptance of rodents, something needed to be done. She checked her watch then happily followed Maria.

After twenty minutes of checking an assortment of items spread on mismatched tables, she hadn’t found any mousetraps but had discovered several balls of purple yarn. Now her attention leaped to a rickety bike propped against a red milk carton.

She straddled the bike and checked the pedals, imagining how much time it would save walking to the kitchen. “How much?” she asked, glancing at the brown-eyed boy who seemed to be in charge.

“For you, lady, special price. Thirty dollars. All profits to Anna House.”

Maria elbowed her way forward and squeezed the front tire. “Not a bad deal, kid. But he’ll take twenty.”

“
Si
.” The boy flashed an amused smile. “I’ll take twenty.”

The bike was old and dented, but Jessica loved it. It even had a front basket and a cheeky bell. The purchase left her with a meager fifteen dollars in her pocket, but she happily waved to Maria and headed back to the shedrow, head bent and legs pumping.

The wind whipped her face and she felt gloriously alive, free to let her imagination run. Soon she was careening down a mountain again, with perfect snow, cheering crowds and honking horns. It took a second to realize the honking behind her was real. She jammed on the brakes, skidding to a spectacular stop on the gravel, her adrenaline still pumping.

A security guard in a crisp uniform stepped from a Jeep. “Speed limit is fifteen miles per hour, miss.”

“You must be kidding. I was just trying out my new bike.”