Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (97 page)

“Okay, shoot.”

She gripped her coffee and darted another look at Slim, so uneasy he was swept with a surge of protectiveness. Obviously she thought it was a stupid question and clearly was intimidated by Slim’s presence.

“I remember now,” Dino said smoothly. “You wanted to ask about riding out alone. Well, that’s a definite no. But you can ride Lyric anytime as long as you stay in the paddock.”

He winked, turning his back so Slim couldn’t see, and she gave him such a grateful smile his chest swelled.

“Riding Lyric is a bad idea,” Slim said.

Dino wheeled, irritated at the man’s rudeness. “I think it’s an excellent idea. And so does Martha.” He hardened his stare until Slim averted his head. But then the galloping filly grabbed his attention, and he forgot about Slim as Stephanie cruised down the backside. He tilted his wrist, adjusting his stopwatch, his attention on the filly. Echo moved fluidly, ears pricked, as though awaiting a signal.

He’d told Stephanie to run when she hit the quarter pole, and they watched in silence as the filly reached the marker and took off.

Echo’s neck extended, her stride lengthening. She carried her head unusually low when she ran, but it was clear she was keen to motor. Stephanie crouched over her withers, barely moving as the horse charged around the turn, hooves pounding as she straightened for home. A slight tap from Stephanie and she smoothly changed leads, hitting another gear and powering across the finish line.

Dino stopped his watch, staring with glee. “A shade over forty-eight. What did you get?” He looked at Slim who nodded in agreement, still studying his own stopwatch. “Perfect. Martha will like this.” He turned to Becky who was still draped over the rail and staring at the receding filly. “What do you think?” he asked, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice.

She looked at him with eyes that glowed. “I think Martha will be delighted. Echo looked so strong and happy to be running. Will Stephanie ride her on Saturday?”

“No. She quit jockeying after she had her baby. She’s strictly an exercise rider now. Prefers the relaxed atmosphere here.”

“She has a baby?” Becky asked. “Is she married?”

“Divorced.”

He glanced down the track. Stephanie turned the filly and headed back, her smile unmistakable. A good sign. Steph was a savvy rider with great instincts and if she was happy with the horse, it boded well.

Usually
it boded well. Stephanie had shared his opinion that Hunter would win last week, and they’d both been dead wrong about that one. He suppressed a spike of uncertainty.

Echo trotted up in a swirl of dust. “This filly’s ready to fire a big one.” Stephanie’s breath came in short gasps as she unsnapped her helmet. “I want to send a bet down. I’m guessing we were bang on the forty-nine seconds you wanted.”

“A little quicker actually,” Dino said, “but it all looked good.” Stephanie had a stopwatch in her head. The time was a bit faster then he expected, but the filly had galloped easy and would have plenty left for the race.

Slim looped his lead through the bridle and she vaulted off, while Echo pawed and jigged as though eager to run another quarter mile.

“Save your energy, girl.” Dino patted her damp neck. “You’ll need it for Saturday. Make sure she’s on the grounds by seven on race day, Slim. I’ll have a stall ready.” He turned to Becky. “Want to tack up Lyric now?”

She nodded, her face still shining as she admired Echo. “This is going to make Martha so happy. I can’t wait until Saturday. Looks like she can’t lose.”

Dino smiled, but a horse race was never a sure thing, and much depended on luck. Yes, Echo looked like a winner—but so had Hunter. A lot was outside his control. The only thing a trainer could do was get the horse to the starting gate—happy, healthy and ready to run.

“Lyric’s on the hot walker,” Slim said. “No one told
me
she was going to be ridden today.”

Dino swung around, stunned by the man’s rudeness. Malcolm had held Slim in high esteem but a poor attitude was never acceptable.

“I’ll show Becky how the hot walker works,” he snapped. “And you and I need to meet later, at noon, to make sure everyone is in accord.”

“Everyone is in accord, boss,” Slim said quickly. “Just saying she’s on the walker. That mare’s been standing around for years. Might do her good to be ridden. It’s not like she’s my horse.”

Dino glanced at Becky, afraid her enthusiasm might be dampened by Slim’s surliness. Usually she was so quiet. But she wasn’t ducking her head now. In fact, she stood firmly on his right, facing Slim with squared shoulders. He sensed she was trying to look tough but the effect was ruined slightly by her pink lips, sweet, vulnerable lips smudged with a spot of white icing.

“Let’s go to the hot walker, Becky,” he said, clenching his hand, resisting the impulse to wipe away the icing. But, Jesus, he couldn’t stop staring at her hot little mouth. He looped his hand around her hip and tugged her away from Slim, then lowered his arm, annoyed by his compulsion to touch her. “You have icing on your face,” he muttered.

She swiped at her lips as she trotted beside him, clearly oblivious to his thoughts. “I thought a hot walker was a person?”

“That’s one kind,” he said, staring straight ahead. “But there’s also a mechanical hot walker. You probably saw them at Lone Star. You clip the horse on and they walk around in a circle. Saves time and labor.”

“But I didn’t see anything like that here,” she said.

He let his gaze slide back over her face. She looked different today. Must be her hair. Usually it flopped around her face, but today the ponytail held it back. She really was damn cute.

He jerked his head away, pointing at a large circular roof, which always reminded him of a fairground ride. “The hot walker here is different. Deluxe. Sides are enclosed, and horses are loose in individual sections. It’s safer and the timer can be programmed.”

“How long was Lyric in there?”

“Press the third button on the right and check the memory. It tells everything.”

Becky walked up to the controls, stood on her toes and peered at the steel box. “Thirty minutes. Will she be too tired for me to ride?”

The wind grabbed her bulky shirt, exposing an inch of creamy skin on her back. He wished the wind would push it higher. Wished she’d at least tuck it in, so he could check out her curves. Ever since he saw her shirtless, he’d been intensely aware of her femininity.

“Will Lyric be too tired?” she repeated and he jerked his brain back, irritated. Maybe he
was
a pig. My God, this woman was practically a nun, and he was mentally undressing her. She wasn’t even his type. Someone’s type, but definitely not his.

“No, that’s a good warm-up,” he said, his voice thick. “Now press the red button, tuck your shirt in and grab your horse.”

Her nose wrinkled in confusion. “Tuck my shirt in?”

“It’s safer.” He kept a solemn expression. “Horses. Moving equipment. You never see a cowboy riding in a flapping shirt, do you?”

“No, I guess not.” She reached down and tucked the end of her oversized shirt into her jeans.

He crossed his arms, watching with appreciation as her curves emerged. “You look really nice,” he said impulsively.

She froze. Her gaiety vanished and her face turned so pinched, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Sorry, Becky.” He raised his hands. “I was out of line.”

But she stared as though he were some kind of sex offender, and he felt like a piece of shit. “Look, I apologize,” he said. “Sometimes I have a big mouth. But you look nice today…and I thought you should know.”

Her face slowly relaxed, and she stopped looking like a helpless bunny poised for flight.

“Come on,” he drawled, trying to hide his remorse. “Press the red button and get your horse.”

She stepped into the compartment, clipped the lead on Lyric. He resolutely kept his eyes off her cute little butt. Lyric was surprisingly obliging, not even trying to push past and escape.

“Tie her to the ring in the stall and brush her. But don’t clean her hind feet. She kicks. Call me when you need help.”

“Where will you be?” she asked.

“With Hunter. I want to see what Slim’s talking about.”

She nibbled at her lower lip, as though deep in thought. No sign of any icing, but her mouth had a really cute shape that made his thought careen.

“So why would he be doing that?”

“What?” He jerked his head up. Saw the question in her eyes and guiltily realized he had no idea what she’d just asked. Christ, maybe he really was an oversexed asshole.

“Why would Slim look up Hunter’s nose with a flashlight?”

“Probably to check if there’s mucous,” he muttered. “The smell means Hunter has an infection. I’ll take a look.”

“Slim didn’t see me watching last night but it looked like it was a hard job, checking Hunter’s nose. Want me to help?”

He didn’t often need help with a horse, and he definitely didn’t want her running back to Martha with crazy snot tales, but she looked so damn sweet. “Yeah, definitely.” He cleared his throat. “First, tie Lyric in the stall. Do you know how to tie a quick-release knot?”

“Sure do.” She led Lyric toward the barn and he followed, permitting himself a quick sweep of her beautifully shaped butt. Rounder than most of the female riders but absolutely perfect for palming. He jammed his itchy hands in his pockets.

“What’cha looking at, boss?” Stephanie called. “New filly on the grounds?”

His mouth tightened. Becky and Lyric disappeared inside the barn and he yanked his gaze off the door and looked at Stephanie. “Just studying Lyric’s conformation,” he said. “Wondering why she tripped the other night. We trainers are paid to be observant.”

Stephanie grimaced and opened her car door. “Yeah, tell me about it. My ex was a trainer too. He studied a lot of conformation, not always equine.”

“We trainers are often misunderstood.”

“I’ve heard that before too.” Stephanie snorted. “Long hours, endless worry, fickle owners. Your ex didn’t even like racing. No wonder your marriage busted up.”

He adjusted his hat, uneasy with the conversation. Laura’s cheating no longer left a sour taste but the fact that she lived in his family home certainly did. She’d always hated living in the country but now was too contrary to leave. A few wins though and he’d be able to pay her price. Buy it back. “I’ll be around tonight if you want to drop by and watch some replays or something,” he said.

“Gosh, you’re a smooth talker.” Stephanie slipped into the car. Her car roared off as he walked into the barn.

He walked down the cool aisle, pausing as Becky struggled to tie Lyric. He stepped into the stall and shortened the rope. “Should be shorter. And make sure you stick the end in the loop so she can’t undo the knot. She’s a smart one.” He patted the mare on the neck and headed down the aisle, his thoughts shifting to Hunter.

The colt stuck his head over the stall, seeming in fine health, but when Dino buckled the halter, the smell of infection almost made him gag. “Damn,” he muttered as he slid his hand in Hunter’s mouth checking for sharp teeth. Nothing obvious. The smell seemed to come from the nose.

Light footsteps sounded, and Becky peeked over the stall door. Maybe she could help after all.

“There’s a rubber flashlight hanging by the tack room,” he said. “Can you grab it?”

She nodded and rushed off. Hunter was unusually resistant, tossing his head and flattening his ears, and Dino led him further into the stall, trying to reassure him. Finally the colt let him touch his nostrils without fighting.

Becky returned, wide-eyed, and passed him the light.

The smell was stronger on the left and he used his finger to probe the nostril wider. “There might be some blockage,” he said over his shoulder, “but it’s hard to see. You’re a nurse. Is that snot?”

She stepped closer. He tugged her to his side, afraid the colt might strike her. She seemed oblivious to the danger, her face rapt with concentration as she peered up. He kept his hand on her hip, ready to push her away if the colt reared. “I can reach up there,” she said and her little finger disappeared into the horse’s nose.

Hunter flattened his ears but stood obligingly. They all stared as a chunk of yellow appeared between her index and middle fingers.

“Unbefuckinglievable!”

“What is it?” She stared at the object he’d pulled from her hand.

“A goddamn sponge.” Anger shortened his words. “Poor horse. Running his guts out and unable to breathe. That explains a lot. Slim noticed the smell last night. Sponge must have caused the infection.”

His mouth clenched. “Some asshole at Lone Star sponged my horse. I’ll increase security at the barn. Tell the state agency. But damn, that race can’t be rerun.”

“Guess it’s a good thing Echo is shipping in on Saturday,” Becky said. “She won’t be around the track very long.”

“Yes, that’s a very good thing,” he said.

A horse clopped down the aisle and he glanced over the door. Cody, the head groom, accompanied by Slim, led a cooled-out Echo back to her stall. Slim saw their faces and hurried toward them.

“You checked him out?” Slim asked. “Is it an abscess?’

“No. Look what Becky pulled from his nose.”

“Well, goddamn.” Slim fingered the stained sponge in disbelief. “I haven’t seen anything like this in years. Guess Hunter did pretty well, running on limited air. Echo is shipping in Saturday morning. Do you have good security?”

“There’ll be a groom posted by her stall. No one will get to her.” Dino’s fists clenched as he fought a bitter sense of violation. “Guess I better tell Martha.”

“Maybe not,” Becky said, sounding subdued. “This is so vindictive. I think it would upset her.”

“But she needs to know why Hunter ran poorly.” Dino crossed his arms. “And I think it would strengthen her decision to keep racing.”

“And I’m thinking of her health. So it’s best not to say anything.” Becky raised a stubborn chin and crossed her own arms, and he wondered why he’d ever thought her meek.

“She’s right,” Slim said. “Guess it’s more important to think of Martha than to make a public excuse.”