Saratoga Sunrise

by Christine Wenger

  "Is that true, Seawind?" Sara laughed as the horse nodded.

  She pulled a carrot out of her reticule, and held it out. "It's from Chef Morris. He said he's betting his last dollar on you."

  The horse walked over, smelled the carrot, and took it in his big yellow teeth. It was gone in a flash.

  Jack grinned. "Now get back to your stall, Seawind. I'll saddle you up, and you can show those other horses what you can do." He turned to Sara, and offered her his arm.

  She put her hand in the crook of his arm, then turned back to Johnson. "Johnson, why don't you leave and come back for me after noon?"

  "Humph," he uttered with his nose in the air. "I don't mind stayin' and waitin', Miss Sara."

  "Nonsense, Johnson. You go ahead. Enjoy the day. I insist."

  "I'll take good care of her, Johnson. You can be sure of that," Jack said.

  Johnson scrutinized Jack from the top of his unruly, shiny brown hair to the top of his dirty, dusty work boots. Then he peered into Jack's deep blue eyes for what seemed like an hour. He must have liked what he saw, for he nodded and grinned.

  "See that you do," he ordered.

  Jack smiled in amusement. He liked it that the man took good care of Sara. Sara had a way of bringing out the protective nature in him, too. She was so fragile, so tiny and delicate. But he had to put his feelings for her aside. He had a mission to accomplish and he needed to gain her trust. He intended to do that by letting her ride Seawind in secret.

  He turned back to Seawind with Sara still clutching his arm. "C'mon, you big ox."

  The horse stood his ground as they walked away. Jack stopped, ready to go back and get him, but Sara looked over her shoulder, clicked her tongue, and the horse trotted to her side.

  "Are you ready to give him his workout?" Jack asked.

  "Indeed I am."

  "I borrowed some clothes for you from Toady."

  "Thank you so very much, Jack."

  "Are you sure you can ride?"

  "Of course, I'm sure."

  "You'll have to change in Seawind's stall. It wouldn't do for you to be seen going into the grooms' quarters. I'll stand guard."

  When they reached the stall, Jack tied Seawind to a wooden post, and put a bucket of water at his feet. Seawind bent over to drink.

  He handed Sara a burlap bag and looked around. "Go ahead and change. There's no one in sight. I'll stay out here." He connected the two half-doors, and shut it after she entered.

  Watching the sleek horse drink, he waited, thinking that he was crazy to let her ride. But it was her horse, and she had looked so sad, so forlorn, when she said that she was forbidden to ride at the Springs. He knew what it was like to want something so bad, and have it just out of reach.

  If they were caught, he would be fired, and that wouldn't do. He had plans that needed to be carried out.

  He heard the door squeak open and Sara emerged. He couldn't believe his eyes. She stood before him dressed in green and white jockey silks and knee high black glossy boots. Her pale blonde hair was stuffed inside a cap, and her violet eyes sparkled with excitement. The silks defined her slim figure, and the slight roundness of her breasts. She was breathtaking.

  He gulped, fighting back a sudden rush of desire. "I-I think you need a jacket,"

  "Whatever for? It's much too hot out."

  "Um...ah..."

  Her eyes followed his, and suddenly she understood. Her face flamed. "I understand, Mr. Summers."

  He looked around, then pulled Toady's jacket off the hook. Toady was just slightly larger than Sara, but it would have to do. As Sara slipped into the jacket, Jack saddled Seawind. He helped her into the saddle–a mere wisp of leather with stirrups attached.

  "All right?" He looked up at her radiant face, and felt a tinge of guilt. He shrugged it off. They were both getting what they wanted, weren't they? He was gaining her trust, and she was riding her horse.

  "I'm fine. Just fine, Mr. Summers."

  "Jack."

  He held the reins and led Seawind to the practice track. He saw that Sara sat a good seat, and he felt a little more confident of her ability. No matter what, he didn't want her to fall and get hurt. That wasn't part of his plan.

  Two horses were working out on the practice track, and Bravo Joe, Fordice's horse, was waiting his turn. Sara must have tensed, because Seawind started to fuss.

  Jack petted the glossy neck of the horse. "Easy boy. Easy now." Looking up at Sara, he saw her eyes widen in panic.

  "Something wrong?"

  "Monty isn't here, is he?"

  Jack quickly skimmed the men at the railing. "Don't see him."

  "Good." She sat back and relaxed.

  The other horses left the track, but Bravo Joe pranced on. The horse fussed until the starter, staring at his stopwatch, discharged a pistol in the air. The jockey struck Bravo Joe on the rump with his whip. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Sara flinch at the sound. Bravo Joe was off and running.

  Jack noticed that the two biggest bookies, Irish John Cavanaugh and Boy Plunger, were surrounded by other bookies along the rail. They all clutched stopwatches and were intently absorbed in Bravo Joe's run. When the horse finished, the watches all clicked at once. They didn't cheer, but only nodded and made notations on pieces of paper.

  Then it was Seawind's turn.

  Jack looked at Sara. She smiled down at him.

  "I can do it, Jack. I've done it before."

  "All right, Sara. He's all yours, but please be careful. I don't want your father coming after me. Or that carriage driver of yours either." Jack chuckled as he unhooked the lead rope. He held the crop out to her.

  "Never."

  "But..."

  "No. Our horses are never to be whipped. If you are working for my father, you ought to know that," she said firmly.

  His eyes twinkled, obviously amused at her declaration. "I understand," he said.

  Sara nudged Seawind onto the dirt track and took her place at the starting line. She mumbled to the horse, "Just like home, boy. It's just like the track at home. Don't be nervous. You can do it."

  She didn't know who she was trying to convince, her horse or herself. She took a deep breath just as the starter's pistol went off. Seawind lunged forward.

  The horse's powerful body moved like lightning under her. The blowing of the animal's air and the pounding of his hooves blended into a drumming rhythm. She counted. One...thump... two...thump...three...thump. Seawind was faster than usual. He wanted to run.

  The track and the trees melded into a vivid mass of blurred color as she sped by. Oh, it was thrilling. Pure freedom! She forced herself to focus between Seawind’s red-brown ears on the track, but he didn't need her to help him. He knew what to do.

  He was her legs, and he was running for her!

  # # #

  Jack watched from the rail as Sara and Seawind flew around the track. He checked his watch. Seawind was beating Bravo Joe's time by about fifteen seconds. At the halfway mark, they slipped a little, and by the finish line, they lagged behind Bravo Joe's time by the same fifteen seconds.

  Jack glanced over at the bookies and the other spectators as he walked Seawind to cool him. The bookies were again making notes on their papers.

  "Where's Toady?" A familiar voice boomed through the air. Jack turned to see Montague Fordice walking toward him, yelling. "Who's riding Seawind, Summers?"

  "What concern is it of yours, Fordice?"

  "I make it my business to know what's going on at the track."

  Jack decided to quiet him with a lie. "I still say that it's none of your business, but the jockey's a local kid. He's just someone I hired to work out the horse. Happy now?"

  Montague growled. "Stay out of my way, Summers."

  Jack looked with amusement at the red-faced dandy and laughed. "It was you who walked over here, Fordice. I wasn't anywhere near you." Jack's continuous laughter must have made Fordice steam even more, for he turned abruptly and stomped away, kicking out
a cloud of dust, just as Sara approached.

  She pulled her cap lower as she dismounted from Seawind. Jack caught her in mid-air and helped her to the ground. She clung to his arm no doubt to steady herself.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I just need to stand a while before I can walk."

  He looked at the tiny woman standing so shakily with her head held high. Pride shot through him. In spite of her disability, she was doing what she wanted to do.

  "There is nothing to apologize for, Sara. I'm glad to be of assistance." Actually, he liked how she held on to him, how she smelled faintly of gardenia.

  "I can't thank you enough for letting me ride Seawind."

  "You were a delight to watch. You certainly can ride, and I really mean that."

  Judging by the look of pure rapture that was evident on her face, Sara was thrilled at his statement. Good heaven above, she was a beautiful creature. If he wasn't careful, he could easily fall in love with Sara Peterson.

  No. Not that.

  Jack steeled himself and remembered what he was here to do. No. He must never fall in love with the daughter of his enemy.

  “You held him back, didn’t you?” Jack asked.

  “Yes. I saw all those bookies there, and I wanted them to think Seawind wasn’t that fast. You know, to increase the odds.”

  “Why Sara Peterson, you are a tricky woman, aren’t you.”

  She smiled and her eyes twinkled. He lost himself in their purple depths.

  "I think you'd better get back on Seawind. Someone could recognize...the way you walk." Jack saw the happy expression leave her face. For a brief moment, she had probably forgotten her handicap, and then he had to go and remind her of it again. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. He just wanted information that might help clear his father.

  He helped her up on Seawind, clipped on the lead rope, and headed back toward the stable.

  "Jack?"

  "Yes?"

  "Would you be interested in some lunch after we rub down Seawind? I brought a picnic basket that Chef Morris made."

  He could hear her nervousness as she voiced the question. He looked up at her, and she avoided his eyes. "I would be delighted to share a picnic with you. But do you think it's proper for a young lady such as yourself to be unchaperoned?"

  "But I trust you, Jack."

  Trust.

  That was exactly what he wanted her to do–trust him.

  So why then did he feel so miserable?

  CHAPTER 4

  "You can come out now. No one's in sight," Jack whispered.

  Sara walked out of Seawind's stable, dressed again in her pale green lawn gown with the ruffled hem and puffy elbow-length sleeves. It was the lightest summer gown she owned, but the unforgiving sun was making her perspire. Or perhaps it was the thrilling ride on Seawind. Or was it the nearness of Jack that was making her so warm?

  Sara watched as he cooled down the two-year old colt with a liniment brace and wrapped the horse's legs. He certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

  She couldn't take her eyes off the bulge of Jack's muscles bunching and moving against the fabric of his blue chambray shirt. The seat of his trousers strained across taut buttocks whenever he bent.

  Embarrassed at her own frank assessment of Jack's lean body, she forced herself to look away.

  Sara saw the other eight horses in the Peterson stable sticking their heads out of the half-doors. "Shall I'll feed and water the horses?" she asked.

  She needed something to occupy her hands and her mind and to stop wondering what Jack's skin would feel like.

  "Toady's already taken care of them, and I'll take care of Seawind now."

  Jack led the horse into the large stall and shut the half-door. Seawind immediately stuck his head out and nickered.

  Sara stroked his velvet nose. The horse nodded his head as he saw Jack return with a wooden bucket of water. He held it out and Seawind drank in loud slurps.

  Sara turned to Jack. "Will you be riding tomorrow, too?"

  "I'd love to, but I don't dare do it every day. Toady can give him his work out."

  Oddly enough, he felt a sense of loss already. He wanted her to come back to the stable, wanted to be with her as much as possible, but he didn't want to appear too eager. He needed to pry more information out of Sara Peterson as to the Tempest Wind incident. A picnic would be the ideal atmosphere.

  "I know a perfect spot for a picnic," he said too quickly, then shook his head. "Sorry."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I-I didn't think before I spoke. It's a fairly long walk from here. Let me think of a closer place." He didn't want her to tire or fall. He admired several things about Sara Peterson, and the way she tried to keep up with whomever she was walking with was one of them.

  "Jack, I'll be fine. The walk will do me good since I didn't have my mineral bath this morning."

  "There's a mineral spring where I thought we'd picnic. It's a place that not many people know about."

  "How glorious! Let's go!"

  "Are you sure you're up to it?"

  "Try and stop me."

  # # #

  As they walked, Sara could see where the wispy clouds of the brilliant blue sky met the shiny green grass of the field. She steadied herself and intensified her efforts to walk straight. She stole glimpses of Jack out of the corner of her eye. He had been silent since he offered her his arm when they left the stables, and she wondered what he was thinking.

  The picnic basket swayed at Jack's side as he walked, and several times she noticed that he slowed his pace so she could keep up. Instead of being embarrassed, she was overjoyed at his thoughtfulness. Monty would never be as kind.

  Although it was an effort to walk through the rutted field, she delighted in the smell of the grass and the dance of the colorful butterflies as they enjoyed the wild flowers and clover. She inhaled deeply, letting the sweet-smelling air fill her, then slowly exhaled a long sigh of contentment.

  "Let's rest for a while." Jack's rich, deep voice brought her back to earth. He looked down at her with concern and stopped walking.

  "I'm fine."

  "You sighed just now. Are you tired?"

  "Not in the least. I'm just enjoying the wonderful day. It's so beautiful here and peaceful."

  "I'm glad you like it. We're almost to the spot I wanted to show you. It's just over that small rise ahead."

  "I can make it."

  She was getting too warm so she took her bonnet off. Even though she was of fair complexion, she liked the outdoors and the way it turned her skin a golden color. Aunt Trixie always said that a lady should have a porcelain complexion, but Sara thought that such skin color was sickly-looking. At any rate, she would never have a porcelain complexion, for she was always outdoors working with the horses. Jack offered his arm again, and they began walking.

  Sara knew she shouldn't be in a man's company without a chaperone, but she trusted Jack and was having the best day of her life since the carriage accident happened.

  Her father and Aunt Trixie were much too over-protective of her, and she herself was much too shy. Shy? She suppressed a giggle. Here she was on the arm of a man she had just met a day ago, and who had conspired to help her ride her horse, and now she was going to picnic with him–alone, no less! A shiver of excitement at her daring coursed through her.

  It was harder than she had expected to walk up the small incline. She felt winded, and her bad leg was tiring. But it was forgotten as they reached the crest of the hill. She gasped at the beauty of the scene in the distance. Not far below, the sun shone on a silver ribbon of water as it twisted and turned through a tree-lined gash in the field. Wild daisies, yellow buttercups, and purple and pink wild flowers made a beautiful carpet leading to the creek.

  "It's breathtaking, Jack."

  He smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I've always loved coming here," he muttered absentmindedly.

  Sara was puzzled. "Than you're from Saratoga? You grew up here?"

  He look
ed at her, startled. "Um...no. I mean...yes. I lived here for a while when I was younger," he said, then quickly added, "Can you make it down the hill or should I carry you?"

  Her cheeks burned in embarrassment as she remembered Jack carrying her at the train station the day before as everyone looked on. Actually, she'd love to be in his arms again, but to tell him that she couldn't walk would be deceitful of her. Regretfully, she told the truth. "There is no need to carry me. I will just take my time."

  "I'll help you."

  His arm went around her, and when she felt the pressure of his hand splayed on her waist, she was filled with an inner excitement. It was the same fluttery feeling she had been experiencing since the first moment she saw him.

  "We'll take it slow," he said.

  Her body struck his with every other step she took, but he didn't seem to mind. He kept his promise to go slow, and she trusted him, never fearing that he would let her fall. They laughed until they reached level ground.

  # # #

  Jack stopped and released his grip on her. The smile left his face when he looked at Sara. She had tears in her eyes. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

  "Y-You didn't hurt me, Jack. That was fun. It's been a long time since I've had so much fun."

  He put the picnic basket down. Slowly, he cupped her face in his hands. Twin pools of violet met his gaze. He let his callused thumbs wiped the tears of joy from her soft, warm skin. She was so courageous, so full of life. He admired the great inner strength in her slight body, the strength she called upon to challenge herself physically.

  He damned himself for making her walk this far, particularly after she had just ridden Seawind. She must be exhausted. He mentally cursed the carriage driver and the horses that caused the horrible accident that left her maimed. And while he was at it, he cursed himself because he was going to use her to his own advantage.

  Bending down, he couldn't stop himself from gathering her into his arms and kiss her ever so gently, fearing she would bolt from him like a skittish colt. But she didn't bolt. Instead, she stiffened, then relaxed. Hesitantly, she kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with more passion. He could feel her heart flutter against his, like a butterfly in the field surrounding them.