Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) (99 page)

She entered the rear of the barn. Hunter glanced at her then stared over her head at something he deemed more important. She took a cautious sniff as she passed but there was no sign of decay, only the wholesome smell of horse and hay.

Lyric’s stall door was open and she jerked to a stop. Had the mare escaped again? No. She blew out a whoosh of relief. The halter was also gone so likely Lyric was merely on the hot walker.

She scooped a lead line off the rack and hurried to the walker. Lyric was one of two horses circling inside. Safe and exactly where she should be. Becky flipped the switch and stopped the walker, following Dino’s instructions. She stepped inside and hooked the lead on Lyric’s halter. Gave her a quick pat…then stiffened in shock as drops of sweat beaded the air.

The mare was soaked. Sweat drenched her neck and belly, the smell overpowering, and her nostrils flared pink. Becky gulped. Was this normal? Lyric hadn’t been at all sweaty yesterday—even after the ride. Maybe she was sick.

But the other horse in the walker—a chestnut filly that looked like Echo—appeared similarly hot. Odd, because Echo’s race was tomorrow, and she’d heard Dino order only two jog laps today. Becky stopped Lyric by the control panel and pressed the button to resume motion, hoping Echo wouldn’t mind being alone, although judging by her lather, it was also time for the filly to leave the walker.

On impulse, she pressed the timer. The red display beeped then flashed: two hundred minutes.

“Wha’cha doing?”

She swung toward the curt voice, her heart pounding with guilt. “Hi, Slim. I was wondering if it was all right to leave Echo in here alone.”

“I’m just coming to get her. She’s jogged her two laps and had a twenty-minute cool-down on the walker. Heard you’re driving to the track with me tomorrow?”

Becky nodded, trying to keep her eyes from skittering back to the display panel. Dino had shown her how to work the buttons, and the numbers showed the horses had been walking for two hundred minutes—not twenty.

“Better be on time.” Slim frowned, glancing down at his ever-present clipboard. “I won’t wait if you’re late. Filly has to be on the grounds by seven.”

“I’ll be on time,” she said, knowing she had to tell Dino about Slim’s behavior. And she definitely didn’t want this crusty man to join her on a trail ride; it would be more enjoyable to ride alone in the paddock. Besides, Lyric’s head was unusually low, and the mare wasn’t even pulling at the lead. Seemed like a good day to practice opening gates.

She tugged on Lyric’s lead and the mare followed. So did Slim.

“Forgot my lead line.” He jammed a pen in his back pocket and brushed past her. A picture fluttered to the ground.

Becky stopped Lyric, scooping up the photo before the mare ground it into the dirt. A young woman’s face stared back. A face with a slack mouth and dull eyes. Oh, God. She’d cared for many patients like this at the rehab center, and they always tugged at her heart.

“Slim,” she called, flipping the picture over, feeling intrusive. “You dropped something.”

He turned and scooped the picture from her outstretched hand, carefully wiping off a speck of dirt. “Thanks,” he said, sticking it back in his pocket. “Need any help saddling?”

“No, thanks.”

“Dino told me to help with her hind feet.”

“It’s okay. I can do it.” But she remembered Lyric’s protest yesterday when Dino had handled her hooves, and her voice lacked conviction.

“Dino gave an order,” Slim said as she led Lyric into the airy stall, “so I have to clean her back feet. I assume
you
can look after her front?”

“Yes, you can assume that, Slim.” His sarcasm made her speak more forcefully than usual. She even stared at him the way Dino did when he was annoyed, although she did cheat a bit and locked her gaze on his forehead. It was a huge coup when he was the first to look away.

“Let’s get this done,” he grumbled, pulling out a hoof pick and grabbing Lyric’s hind leg. When she swished her tail in protest, he smacked her. He tried again, and the mare slammed her hoof against the wall.

“Quit,” Slim said, slapping her again. The sound was loud in the serene barn, and Becky stiffened. She’d already noticed Dino handled the horses differently, with far better results. He hadn’t had any problem checking Hunter’s nose either, not like Slim’s tussle that rainy night when he’d thought he was alone. Still, Slim was the barn manager, and both Martha and Dino considered him an expert.

Lyric turned, her soulful eyes holding Becky’s. Her mute appeal reminded Becky of a needy patient, and it was impossible to remain silent.

“Dino says that with some horses, you shouldn’t push them too hard,” she said. “What kind of horse is Lyric?”

“A bitch, that’s what kind.” Slim stepped back and kicked the mare in the belly. Lyric pinned her ears but grudgingly let him lift her hind leg. “See. You have to show them who’s boss.” He deftly cleaned her feet. “Just make sure you kick with the side of your foot. Otherwise you could break some toes.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing much kicking.” Becky eyed Lyric’s flattened ears with alarm. It was a good thing she was riding in the paddock, because the mare now had a very sullen look.

“Suit yourself. Just don’t touch her flank.” Slim tossed the hoof pick in the grooming kit and stalked from the stall.

Becky sighed but finished grooming with no mishap, then tacked up the mare and led her outside. Lyric immediately brightened, but Becky gulped in dismay. How was she going to climb on? There were no mounting blocks anywhere, nothing like the big ones at summer camp. Yesterday Dino had given her a leg up, but she didn’t want to ask Slim for any more help.

She tried mounting from the ground, but her foot didn’t reach the stirrup—failed by a full six inches. Either her legs had to grow or she needed a stirrup extension. A clump of baler twine hung on a hook by the door. She scooped up a piece of twine and tied it on the left stirrup, adjusting it until the length was right. Perfect. Now she’d be able to scramble into the saddle unassisted.

But it still wasn’t easy. Lyric kept sidling toward the grass, forcing her to hop on one leg. Her frustration grew. Two grooms rushed past, but as usual they didn’t look her way. To her left, a horse walked off the track and she realized Stephanie had finished with her mount. Damn, she didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of the capable gallop girl.

Pumped with resolve, she led Lyric onto the manicured lawn. The mare buried her nose in the lush grass, happy at last, and there was ample time to stick a toe into the loop of twine and scramble up. It wasn’t pretty but she was on. She rewarded Lyric by letting her eat another moment before pulling her head up and heading to the paddock.

Luckily the gate was open and she was able to walk in with little effort, other than kicking it wider with her boot. Not a stylish technique but effective.

“Nice day, isn’t it,” Stephanie called, walking past on a sweaty chestnut. “This is my last horse of the morning but days like this, I could gallop ten.”

Gallop ten?
Becky’s legs still ached from yesterday’s ride. She couldn’t imagine being fit enough, or skilled enough, to gallop ten horses.

Stephanie pulled the chestnut to a sudden halt, her eyes narrowing. “Do you know there’s a piece of baler twine hanging from your stirrup?”

Becky’s face prickled with embarrassment. “It’s my mounting rope,” she muttered.

Stephanie’s melodious laugh filled the air. “Better than a leg up. But if you ride on the trail, be sure to unfasten it. Dangling ropes are dangerous. By the way,” she rose in the saddle, digging a hand in the pocket of her jeans, “can you place some bets for me tomorrow? Dino was in such a hurry, I forgot to give this to him.” Her impatient horse sidled to the left, and she turned him in a circle. “Never mind. I’ll come back after I take Chippy to his groom. He’s eager for his bath.”

Becky forced a smile as Stephanie headed to a waiting groom, ignoring the painful twist in her chest. She didn’t want to think about Dino and Stephanie. Setting her mouth, she guided Lyric alongside the gate, determined to learn how to open it when mounted. Fortunately Lyric was happy to stand still, seeming to doze while Becky leaned down and practiced with the latch.

Steps sounded as Stephanie walked up, balancing a Styrofoam cup and some crinkled bills. She’d replaced her helmet with a pink ball cap and looked fresh and energetic, despite just galloping twelve hundred pounds of eager horse. “I’ve never seen that mare so quiet,” she said.

“She’s tired. She was on the hot walker with Echo.”

“Oh, that Echo.” Stephanie’s voice rose with excitement. “She felt great again this morning. Put twenty dollars on her nose for me and another two dollars to win on Arctic Chip. Chippy’s the horse I just rode. He’s racing tomorrow too.”

“You’re not going?”

“No. I make it a firm policy to stay away.” Stephanie’s smile faded as she sipped her coffee. “I really miss it but my daughter is only two. She needs me healthy. And this is a relaxed job. I come at seven, gallop some nice horses and leave. And when I get the urge to jockey again, I think of Jill.”

“Who’s Jill?” Becky straightened in the saddle, letting the gate swing shut.

“Slim’s daughter. She was hurt riding Lyric at Lone Star.” Stephanie’s eyes darkened. “Jockeying is dangerous, but the reality hits home when it happens to someone you know.”

Becky glanced down at Lyric’s lowered head, trying to imagine the mare racing. Hard to picture, especially now when the mare was so relaxed. Her ears were tilted and she rested a hind leg, not even twitching when Stephanie passed Becky the money. “Guess that explains why Slim doesn’t like Lyric,” Becky said ruefully.

“Oh, he likes all the horses. But he and Dino have different styles. Dino is a race trainer. Doesn’t want his horses too submissive. They need that extra fight to dig deep and gut out a win. Slim is more old-fashioned and likes control.”

“Was Lyric feisty when she raced?”

“Definitely, but she knew her job. Her last race, she took a bad step. Three horses went down. Jill was just unlucky.” Stephanie glanced toward the barn, her voice lowering. “Slim’s been grumpy lately but like everyone, he’s worried about Martha selling. It’d be tough for all of us, even Dino, to find jobs that pay this well.”

“Plus Dino and Slim each get a house,” Becky said, unable to resist probing. She’d never been in either of the ranch-style guesthouses. Dino’s was larger, but they both looked beautiful, typical of everything on the Conrad property.

“Yeah, it would be a dream to have one of those. Dino has a small apartment close to Lone Star but he’s staying here more often since there are three horses in training—Hunter, Chippy and Echo. Although he didn’t sleep here last night…too worried about the horses at Lone Star after that sponge was found in Hunter.”

Stephanie’s face darkened, but Becky’s disgust about the sabotage was tempered with guilty relief. Dino and Stephanie hadn’t spent the night together after all.

“It’s hard to fix a race with all the drug testing,” Stephanie went on. “And now with a twenty-four hour guard, there’s no way anyone can touch Dino’s horses.”

“You think someone at the track doesn’t like him?” Becky asked.

Stephanie shrugged. “It probably wasn’t personal. Dino’s a good trainer and well-respected. But Hunter was the favorite. When someone stuck that sponge up his nose, they created a sweet betting opportunity. Everyone wants to make money.” She waggled a finger. “As do I. So don’t forget to lay my bets, because Echo feels like a rocket.”

Stephanie’s confidence in the filly was reassuring. Martha was meeting with Ted a day after the race, and a win by Echo would prove the horses were worth keeping.

“Gotta go.” Stephanie turned toward a dented blue hatchback. “But you look bored sitting on that horse. Next week I’ll go on a trail ride with you.”

“I’d like that,” Becky managed. Usually retirees were her company of choice, not dynamic women like Stephanie. But she hadn’t felt at all uncomfortable, had even enjoyed the conversation.

Maybe being on Lyric’s back made her bolder, or maybe it was the horses in general. Not worth analyzing right now though. It was too beautiful to worry about anything. The sun was shining, the breeze was fresh and Lyric was being so sweet and cooperative, she deserved a treat.

Becky leaned forward and scratched the mare’s shoulder, promising to bring her back a generous bunch of carrots. Lyric had given her another wonderful ride even though they’d only walked a grand total of thirty feet.

***

“Don’t stare.” Martha opened her eyes and scowled. “I’m not dead yet. But sitting at the dinner table makes me sleepy. From now on, I’ll eat in my room.”

“Does this sleepiness have anything to do with Ted’s visit on Sunday?” Becky asked, refreshing the water glass.

Martha harrumphed deep in her throat. “Of course not. I don’t run from anyone. Although how my sister managed to have such a boring son is beyond comprehension. Ted probably won’t stay long on Sunday, especially if you talk about how beautiful Echo looked in the winner’s circle.”

Becky smiled, her anxiety over Martha fading. Ted’s visits were never pleasant but Martha seemed unfazed, and Ted obviously thought he was fulfilling a family duty. Maybe he’d shut up about the business of selling. His tactless comments stung and placed unnecessary pressure on all the Conrad staff, especially Slim whose mood grew darker every day.

“Do you know Slim well?” Becky asked impulsively. “I heard his daughter used to ride.”

“Jill? Yes, she rode some of our horses right up until her accident. So glad you don’t race, dear. It’s much too dangerous.” Martha picked up a straw and jangled the ice in her glass, her voice turning pensive. “Such a tragedy. I remember poor Malcolm being unable to sleep. Refused to go to any parties either.”

“I imagine Slim and Jill also had a tough time.” Becky couldn’t keep the dryness from her voice. “Do racetracks have insurance?”

Martha abandoned the straw and waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m sure they do. Malcolm was going to check the situation once everything settled. But let’s not talk about that sad business. Tell me about Echo.”