The Black Stallion Legend (3 page)

Pam had surmounted the same obstacles as had Liz—sexism on the racetrack. Men such as Henry, who wouldn’t put a girl on a horse’s back, not in the afternoon anyway. Male jockeys who didn’t regard women as a threat, even when they did get a mount to race.

But Alec was not one of them. Pam had taught him many things, and some had to do with racing. It took balance and instinct and intelligence, as well as strength, to ride 1,200 pounds of horse going at top speed. And women riders were as well equipped as men to guide them. It also took great ability to make a horse relax, to have him want to do his best for you. And in this respect, women were often better equipped
than men. At least, it had been so with Pam, Alec knew. Horses ran for her.

But stop thinking of Pam. It’s no time—

The gate door flew open, the bell clanged. The Merry Christmas Handicap was on and Alec knew he’d been caught unprepared for the start! From behind the chestnut filly’s braided mane, he saw the other horses break in front of him, the slop and shouts of their riders flying through the air.

Delta Belle had broken well from her number 7 stall and Gomez was outracing Iron Flight into the lead. But Liz Smith wasn’t letting her small, iron-gray filly fall behind and was moving Iron Flight as fast as she could go. Apparently she was going to make a speed duel of it early.

Alec knew it had been his fault that Pam’s Song hadn’t broken as sharply from the gate as she should. Henry would be aware of it and would probably know the reason for it. But all that would come later.

Alec moved Pam’s Song to the middle of the track, now that she’d found her stride. But she wasn’t grabbing the track as she should, and Alec knew it wasn’t to her liking.

“Easy, baby, easy,” he called, trying to relax her. “Plenty of time yet.” The distance down the backstretch to the far turn was one quarter of a mile, around the turn itself was another quarter mile, and then a final quarter down the homestretch to the finish line.

Through his filly’s pitched ears Alec saw Delta Belle begin to draw clear of Iron Flight and the rest of the field. Delta Belle was running easily, smoothly, confidently, as if Gomez knew the race was already his,
having fought off Iron Flight’s challenge successfully. Liz Smith had dropped her iron-gray filly back to fourth place and it looked like she was finished. Alec moved Pam’s Song up alongside her, knowing he was in a good position and planning to stay in the clear until later when he would move on again. He wanted to save his filly’s final effort for the homestretch. She was running easily and responding to his hands. She’d have plenty left for the finish.

The field of seven horses running behind Delta Belle bunched closer approaching the turn, with snow and water splashing on every side of them. A hard-running roan filly pulled up on Alec’s right side, challenging the leaders, her rider whooping and hollering. His shouts stirred up Pam’s Song and Alec felt his filly grab for the bit.

“Shut up!” he yelled at the other jockey, knowing it would do no good but saying it anyway. He took hold of Pam’s Song, pulling her up, not wanting to go any faster. It was then that he felt the saddle slip beneath him, going forward until it was halfway off the saddlecloth! Alec reached back, clawing at the saddlecloth, but it was to no avail. With the saddle riding high on the filly’s withers, he had no control over his mount!

Pam’s Song moved forward with an unleashed burst of speed, moving ahead of Iron Flight and the others in blinding pursuit of Delta Belle only three lengths ahead.

She caught the favorite before they’d reached the turn, and with still a half-mile to go! Alec knew it was too far to go all out, as she was doing, and win. He had no choice but to stay on her, if he could, let alone pull
her up. Never before had a saddle slipped on him during a race. Henry had not secured it properly or the water splashing against her belly had stretched the elastic. Either way, nothing could be done now except to hang on!

Delta Belle increased her speed as Pam’s Song pulled alongside, her jockey glancing at the chestnut filly’s bobbing head beside him, then urging his favorite on.

They swept around the turn, going stride for stride as a two-horse team. Alec couldn’t understand the reason for Gomez wanting this speed vendetta with him, unless the other jockey hadn’t noticed that he had no control over Pam’s Song. Whatever the reason, it was obvious that Delta Belle had not met this kind of challenge deep in the stretch in a major race and was digging in, fighting back, refusing to give up the lead. Pam’s Song was inching ahead of the favorite but Alec knew she couldn’t maintain this torrid pace much longer—and neither could Delta Belle.

Passing the stands with less than a furlong to go, only two hundred yards more, Alec knew what was going to happen. He heard the rush of hoofs from behind and wondered which horse it was going to be.

A low-leveled, iron-gray head drew alongside. Red-checkered silks, topped with a green pompon on a protective helmet, came in sight. Alec knew it was Iron Flight and Liz Smith who would win this race.

Pam’s Song missed a stride and Alec steadied her, knowing he wasn’t going to be in on the final drive to the finish wire. But neither was Delta Belle, for the blistering pace had beaten her too. The favorite was
faltering, giving way, despite the whipping she was getting from Gomez.

“Go get it, Liz!” Alec yelled as Iron Flight pulled away from both of them.

Alec didn’t urge Pam’s Song on, while Delta Belle responded to Gomez’s whip by coming on again to finish second to the iron-gray filly. It was enough, Alec decided, that they were third, and that they had been able to finish the race at all.

Ahead of him was a vacation, and time to be with Pam. He desperately needed both.

Deep snow covered the paddocks and pastures of Hopeful Farm but horses were turned out and playing beneath a bright noonday sun. Alec stood at the window of his office in the Stallion Barn and watched them. It was quiet, very quiet, and the contrast to the daily noise at the racetrack acted as a tranquilizer. The peace of it was made all the more beautiful because he had left Henry behind at Aqueduct.

His old friend had been furious with him for being caught napping at the start of the race, telling him the saddle wouldn’t have slipped had he been clear from the start and not bunched with the others where the going had been sloppiest of all. Henry never took into account that he might not have secured the saddle as well as he should have done.

“Finish up what you have to do at the farm,” he had bellowed. “Then go see
that girl
and get her out of your system. That’s if you want to ride for me!” It was just like the old man to blame anyone but himself for
what went wrong these days. Henry had been under a lot of pressure lately, financial pressure most of all.

Hopeful Farm was an incorporated business with Alec’s parents and Henry as principal stockholders. Officially, Alec’s position was that of stable rider, since one could not own and ride a racehorse. Unofficially, Alec was as much under pressure as anyone else, for races had to be won if the farm was going to remain in business.

Alec pictured Henry after the race, all stooped over with his arms hanging down like an ape’s, saying, “You could have pushed her on and taken second money from Delta Belle; that would have meant eleven thousand dollars instead of only six thousand.” Henry had been more hard-eyed than ever, and there had been a sickly pallor to his face. The pressure was telling on both of them, Alec knew. It wasn’t what Hopeful Farm was meant to be for them, not at all.

He watched the mares in the adjacent field, all heavy in foal to the Black or Satan. The future of Hopeful Farm rested on the colts and fillies they were carrying. Would he and Henry be able to hold out, to wait for these foals to win races or bring sales prices that would keep them going? Only time would tell.

Meanwhile, Alec regretted that their great need for dollars had turned his love for horses into a business. It had changed him, just as it had Henry.

Who could say what he truly wanted anymore? Except something he didn’t have yet. Something just over the hill. Something just beyond the reach of his fingertips. He didn’t know what he was after. He was
worse than Henry, who
did
know. A few years ago all Alec truly wanted was to race. Then he’d got the chance, just as Henry had, thanks to the Black. But there should be more between them than what there was. They were still friends but not the way they used to be, and their need for money was the reason for it.

Henry didn’t mean it when he’d said he’d get other riders. Not that he couldn’t, Alec knew. Every jock on the grounds was panting for a chance to ride for Henry, who could do as much for a jockey as he could a horse. He’d told Alec, “You’re gaining experience and maturing as a rider, but you still have a way to go. The great thing is that you’re as good as you are so soon.” And then, when he’d seen Alec’s face fall, he’d fretted and massaged his cheeks with one hand before adding, “Not that I can find fault with you when you ride the Black. That’s different. You’re tattooed on him;
you’re one with him
. It’s the other horses I’m talking about.”

Alec turned away from the window and went back to his desk. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He was tired, exhausted, as whipped mentally and emotionally as Henry. It was good to be alone, to be able to just put his head down on the desk and close his eyes, to do nothing but think of the girl he loved and what might have been … or what still might be.

There was no sound in the room except Alec’s deep breathing as he tried to relax every race-torn muscle. He had no trouble controlling his body. It was his head that was giving him problems. He
needed
Pam.

Alec saw her again. Every feature, every detail,
was there in his mind. But it was not her golden hair, her long-lashed blue eyes, her high, sharp cheekbones or her ears as small and delicately sculptured as her nose that meant most to him. No, it was none of these that he remembered so well, that made him want to walk beside her forever. It was her will to live and the joy she brought to him and all those she touched. It was her honesty, every emotion showing clearly in her face, with nothing to hide or to prove to anyone, seeing only one person, one thought at a time, talking, describing her life, speaking with all the spontaneity and excitement of a child,
“I live! I live!”

A face so different from his own, Alec thought, and from all those he knew. In his everyday, workaday world he wore a mask, and even when startled, surprised, frightened, nothing showed. The mask hid his inner self and he worked efficiently, emotionlessly, from day to day.

Alec raised his head from the desk. He needed to be touched by Pam’s magic again, to feel her sense of sureness, of rightness, her softness yet resilience, her gaiety yet earnestness. All this he needed to survive the pressures he felt engulfing him.

Alec opened a desk drawer and removed a stack of letters he had received from Pam. Taking the last one, he opened the envelope and read:

Alec stopped reading and wondered, did that mean she was ready to come back? She’d been working at stables in England and France for almost two months. Maybe she’d had enough. Maybe she’d return with him to Hopeful Farm!

Alec paused again. He’d never heard of Hanoverians or Trakehners but knew of the Lipizzaners at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria. Pam’s love for horses included all breeds and all kinds of riding, Western as well as English. There was no one horse for her, as the Black was for him. She was a natural horsewoman, gifted with an instinctive understanding of the equine mind.

Pam loved all people as she did all breeds of horses, Alec reminded himself. She wanted to try everything, know everybody, not waste a minute of her time, her life. She wanted to enjoy each moment, each day, each horse and each face. How could she settle for one person, one kind of life with him? Alec wondered. He knew she loved him as he did her, but would it ever work out? It would, he decided, if he thought of marriage as not being mutual ownership. If he always
respected Pam as the complete individual that she was and understood her love and need to expand. He had no doubt that he could do it. Pam’s response to life, her exuberance, her trust in her fellow man, was what made him love her all the more.

Alec put the letters away. The difficult part of being in love, he thought, was letting go when and if necessary. One can never
have
or
own
anyone. But he needed Pam very much, now more than ever. How he wanted to forget the necessity for winning, the frustration of losing. How he hated the fact that, from a business point of view, so much money was invested in him to win. He knew that if he didn’t get away he’d break under the mental strain and be no good to Hopeful Farm or anyone else. Only Pam could help him break free of the pressures that had him imprisoned. He needed to feel her joy again, the joy of life itself and all it offered.