Fear of Falling

by Catherine Lanigan

She realized that though she’d had friends all her life, she’d never put a single one of them to this kind of test of faith. She’d kept her family shame a secret for so long, she’d come to believe she would never be able to share it.

  Here was Rafe, in many ways a stranger to her, and yet he understood. The doors to her heart were wide-open for him.

  Rafe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and turned on his signal. “Cicero is our next exit,” he said. “And, Olivia, if this is too hard for you, it’s okay. You don’t have to go on.”

  “I want you to know everything, Rafe.”

  “Only when you’re up to it,” he said considerately.

  Olivia was so impressed that Rafe was comfortable with such a deep level of intimacy that she believed she owed him the truth. “My dad only bet on horses. He never played cards or dice or went to a casino. At least that’s what my mother told me. He rationalized that it was tradition, that it was natural for a person to bet on horses that were bred purely for racing. That’s what he told himself—and us. I remember going to Arlington with him. The horses were so majestic.” She sighed. “I suppose I encouraged him to take me. I didn’t understand about the losses he was taking. I just wanted to see the horses.”

  “But you were just a little kid, right?”

  “Yes. But still—”

  “How could you know? Olivia, do you see what you’ve been doing? You’ve been blaming yourself for something you and your mother, I’m guessing, were powerless over.”

  Olivia’s shoulders softened as relief siphoned away another layer of guilt and fear. “I have been doing that,” she whispered as the realization settled into her bones. She stared blankly out the window, but she didn’t see the exit ramp they were taking or the traffic light. All she saw was her father’s agony when his horse lost another race. His despondency and embarrassment had captured them both. The thrill she’d experienced earlier just watching the beautiful horses being led to the gate had vanished so quickly and been replaced with such overpowering negativity that any elation was erased. Abolished, as if she’d never felt joy in her life.

  “He left us one day. No goodbyes. No warning. My mother didn’t know the amount of the debt he’d racked up until a few weeks later. I remember her crying herself to sleep. I tried to help her. Say things...” Olivia’s voice hitched as emotion erupted in her throat and cut off her words. Tears stung her eyes and fell uncontrollably down her cheeks. She brushed them away with her fingertips, but visions of her mother’s despair were so vivid and so biting that she continued to cry.

  “Olivia, you did the best you could,” he murmured and reached over to put his hand on her shoulder. “No wonder you and your mother are so close.”

  “We are.” She lifted her hand to cover his. She could feel his warmth again; it was as if he was infusing her with strength. She laced her fingers through his, wanting more of his confidence to buoy her up. “Over the years we grew the deli and then the catering business. She paid off all his debts and kept her little house and fixed it up. She’s pretty amazing.”

  “So are you.”

  The smile she gave him came from her heart, though her eyes were still swimming with tears. “Thank you.”

  They’d come to a stop just before entering Hawthorne Racecourse grounds.

  “So you see, Rafe. It’s not you that frightens me—it’s the gambling. I know it’s my problem and I have to get over my fear. For a long time, I thought I had. Until...”

  “Until you met me and Rowan,” he offered.

  “Yes. Everything about my father and the past has come back to me. Not in a good way.” This time she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. “It’s not you, Rafe. Never you.”

  Rafe leaned across the seat and kissed her cheek. “The one thing I want you to know, Olivia, is that I want to be more to you than just a friend. I’ll be there for you. No matter what. Would you let me be that person for you?”

  Olivia eyes still stung from the tears she’d shed over her father. Now a new wave of pain built deep in her heart because she knew she’d finally found the one person she loved enough to confide her deepest shames and fears to—Rafe. And he was going to be the one she would hurt the most when she grabbed the tail of her dream and rode it all the way to Louisville.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  WHAT OLIVIA’S FATHER had said about horse racing was true. Tradition and history underpinned every aspect of the sport and at Hawthorne Racecourse, Olivia couldn’t help but feel the ghost of the original owner, Edward Corrigan, who bought the land and ran the first five-race card in 1891.

  As they unloaded Rowan from the trailer and met up with Curt, Rafe explained that the grandstand had burned down twice: once in 1902 and once in 1978. This was the first time Rafe had ever entered a horse at Hawthorne, or in any track in Illinois.

  “The track is one mile,” Rafe explained, “but the homestretch is the longest in the country. I’m thinking this could be to Rowan’s advantage.”

  Olivia walked alongside Rowan, keeping her hand on his snout and wondering how he perceived the commotion and activity around him.

  Dozens of pickups, RVs and tricked-out SUVs pulled horse trailers up to the stable area. Trainers, owners, jockeys and assistants lugged bridles, saddles, equipment, feed and even coolers across the paddock. Beautiful Thoroughbreds pranced across Olivia’s path with an arrogance that could only come from an awareness that they were the best.

  None of the animals were shy. None were in the least intimidated by their competition. They were princes and they knew it.

  Curt led the way to Rowan’s stall. “We’ve been assigned stall number eight. Jenny should be arriving any minute,” he said. “I just got a text from her. Her parents drove her up last night.”

  “How lucky for us that her parents are supportive,” Rafe said, coming up behind Olivia. He lugged the saddle and bridle over his shoulder. “Rowan is comfortable with her and understands her signals. That’s important.”

  “I’m glad,” Olivia said as they entered the stable. Half the stalls were occupied and she saw two more horses entering right behind them.

  The excitement in the air was as tangible as a fistful of spring pollen. The energy was infectious. Olivia felt her pulse speed up as she looked from Rafe’s broad smile to Curt’s gleaming, pride-filled eyes.

  Rafe led Rowan into the stall and turned him around. “Come give Rowan a hug, Olivia. He’d like that. I have to help Curt for a minute and get the rest of our gear.”

  She beamed back at him. “My pleasure.”

  Olivia stood in front of the horse and stroked his nose. His coat was as smooth and velvety as sable. He gleamed like a prizefighter, and she was aware of how deep her affection for this proud and talented animal ran.

  She peered into his eyes and once again, she saw and felt an emotion skimmed with joy emanate from him. “I love you, too.”

  Rowan nickered and dropped his head. Then he craned his long neck around her shoulders and pulled her into him with a jerk. She flung her arms around him, kissed his cheek and closed her eyes.

  She didn’t need a camera to catch this moment. It would stay imprinted on her heart forever. This was the first horse she’d ever ridden, and she believed Rowan understood that it wasn’t a coincidence that she’d waited all these years to have that special experience with him. Rowan might be Rafe’s prize horse, but through her bond with Rowan, Olivia overcome her fear of riding.

  “Hey, hey.” Rafe chuckled as he walked up to the stall. “You better not be trying to steal my girl.”

  Olivia locked eyes with Rafe, a sweet smile playing across her lips. “He was trying, but he could never—”

  Rafe dropped the load he was carrying, put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. “Good. Because you are my girl, you know.”


  * * *

  OLIVIA SAT IN the box seats with the other owners and trainers and adjusted her camera lens as the final race of the day, the Graded III Stakes, was announced.

  Through her viewfinder, she saw Rafe and Curt as they led Rowan to the starting gate. Jenny looked relaxed; she bent down and patted Rowan’s neck and adjusted the reins.

  As with the Indian Lake race, everything happened very quickly once the horses went to the post. The horn blasted and the announcer shouted so loudly that Olivia jumped. She missed her shot.

  Clicking off photos, she realized what an advantage she’d had being in the judges’ tower at Indian Lake. Within two seconds, she didn’t have a good angle anymore and had to excuse herself and climb out of her row. She stood on the steps, hoping to get a better shot as the horses rounded the turn. She zoomed in on the leaders and saw Rowan among the front three runners, along with Luv Bandit and I Got It All.

  Rafe had told her that Luv Bandit had won the Milwaukee Handicap the weekend before. He was the horse to beat, but already, Rowan was two lengths back. Olivia guessed Jenny didn’t want to engage Rowan in a speed duel this early in the race. Saving strength for the “run down the lane” was the kind of expert strategy that could lead to a win.

  By midstretch, Rowan had gained a narrow lead over I Got It All. Then Jenny used her lead to send Rowan to the inside, though Luv Bandit came up on the outside and really ground it down. Coming around the third turn and into the homestretch, Rowan’s confidence was apparent.

  All around her, Olivia heard the crowd cheering his name. She kept her mind on her work, but her heart wanted to scream encouragement.

  “Come on, Rowan!” someone screamed beside her.

  Olivia’s fingers flew as she fired away at the camera. The view she had of the homestretch was flawless. She zoomed in for a few more shots of Rowan pulling away from Luv Bandit and leaving I Got It All in the show position.

  The sun came out from behind a cloud and struck Rowan’s flanks, making him look like a gleaming, glittering apparition as he shot over the finish line.

  The crowd exploded in cheers and applause. Olivia couldn’t help jumping up and down. A rotund, middle-aged man at the end of the aisle thrust his arms in the air and shouted, “I won!”

  Olivia stood still and looked at the man. Without thinking she asked, “Did you bet on Rowan?”

  “Oh, no. I never bet. But he won! He won! Isn’t it exciting?”

  Olivia couldn’t contain her smile. “Yes! It’s so exciting!” She turned around and watched the field as Rafe and Curt raced up to Jenny and Rowan. A man in a black business suit handed Jenny a bouquet of red roses. Another man came up and handed Rafe a trophy. Curt placed a shiny satin drape over Rowan’s flanks.

  With her camera to her face, Olivia clicked off more shots. Then she stopped, feeling an unfamiliar euphoria. She was covered with chills from her head to her knees. This was more than being happy for someone else. This was her own joy.

  Gone was the anxiety, the roiling stomach, the caustic fear. The tentacles of anger that had ensnared her for so long over her father’s choices, his weaknesses and his demons had vanished.

  All she wanted was to share this moment with Rafe and Rowan, even though she was only a bystander.

  Or was she?

  Rafe had told her earlier that she was more. Her heart believed that to be true, and it had led her to reveal her greatest secret to him. And he’d been completely understanding. He hadn’t judged her or disrespected her. He’d accepted her just the way she was.

  She turned off her camera, pleased with the shots she’d taken today. Once she was home and had a chance to scrutinize them on her computer, she’d select the best ones and discard the others.

  “They ought to make Albert sit up and take notice,” she said to herself as she followed the crowd out of the grandstand.

  Albert.

  Olivia had been so caught up in her confession to Rafe, the tearing down of the last remnants of her damaged psyche and then the exhilaration of the race, that she’d pushed all thoughts of the Lexington Trophy Magazine to the back of her mind. This was Rowan’s day. Rafe’s triumph. She’d concentrated so much on Rafe and his feelings that she’d forgotten about her own ambitions. Her own dreams.

  Olivia knew deep in her cells that her photographs would prove to be some of her best work. They had the quality and edge that she believed Albert wanted.

  I’ll nail that job.

  Suddenly, despair swept over Olivia like a disease, trampling her joy. Her smile faltered. Her gait slowed to a trudge as she neared Rafe and Rowan. They were surrounded by a bevy of photographers and fans who took pictures on their smartphones. Curt was being bombarded by questions from other trainers he seemed to know. Men in dress suits and ties shoved business cards into Rafe’s hands.

  Jenny’s parents stood just outside the circle, and even they were being hounded by reporters and photographers.

  Remembering Albert’s order to get plenty of pictures of the winner’s circle, Olivia turned her camera back on. She stood back and followed the angle of the sun as it cut through the clouds and sent a shaft of light down on Rowan. Jenny’s red hair glimmered beneath her jockey’s cap.

  As if he sensed Olivia’s presence, Rowan lifted his head, turned slightly and stared directly into the camera. She knew the instant she pressed the button that she had a cover photo.

  Albert would be pleased.

  Olivia lowered her camera as she realized she had only begun her confessions to Rafe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  OLIVIA CAME OUT of the walk-in carrying a roaster with ten pounds of Italian beef that Julia had cooked over the weekend. They would use it to make beef sandwiches all week at the deli.

  Olivia placed the roast on the butcher block and dried off the juices with a paper towel, then placed the meat on the slicing machine.

  The sound of the buzzing blade helped drown out the self-recrimination on a loop in her head.

  I should have told Rafe about the job. I should have explained that I’ll have to move away. I should have thanked him for helping me overcome my fear of racing and for being a real friend. I definitely should have kissed him again and told him that I think I’m falling in love with him. I should have...

  “Olivia, are you going to slice those crumbs, too?” Julia asked, coming over to the slicer and shutting it off.

  “What?” Olivia looked at her mother and then down at the roast, which was now perfectly sliced. “I guess I’m done.”

  Julia put her fingers under Olivia’s chin and lifted her face. “Mind telling me what’s going on with you?”

  “What makes you think—”

  “Olivia. Please. I’m your mother. I haven’t seen you this glum since you lost that tennis match in high school.”

  Olivia placed a piece of butcher paper over the meat and wiped her hands on a towel. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  “You mean there’s more besides the fact that you finally sent your photographs out to magazines?”

  Olivia’s mouth fell open. “Who told you that?” She frowned. “Let me guess. Mrs. Beabots?”

  “She knows, too?”

  Olivia felt every ounce of breath leave her body. “I didn’t tell anyone but her.”

  The sides of Julia’s mouth turned down. “You didn’t tell me. That part I know.”

  “Please don’t be hurt. I didn’t want to tell you because if I got rejected, then you’d feel bad and I would feel bad and—”

  Julia put her hands on Olivia’s shoulders and stopped her with a maternal smile. “I know, sweetheart. And I appreciate your wanting to protect me.”

  “Thank goodness. So,” Olivia asked, “who was it who told you?”

  “Sarah.”

  “Figures.�
��

  “I’m assuming your gloomy mood is because you’ve had some bad news about that?” Julia offered.

  “No, Mom. Actually, I’m being considered for a photojournalism job. It’s mine for the taking. I just got the text from the editor in chief this morning.”

  Julia’s eyes narrowed. “What? How did this happen?”

  “Last Wednesday when I asked for the day off, I went to Louisville and interviewed for a new magazine. The editor wanted to test me first, so when I went to the Illinois Derby with Rafe, I shot it for the magazine as a trial. Mom, those photos were the best of my life. Can you believe it? It’s my dream come true!”

  Julia threw her arms around Olivia. “I knew you were more than just good. Exceptional. You just needed to find out for yourself. This is wonderful news.” Julia backed away and peered at Olivia. “You should be happy, but all I see is sadness. What’s the hitch?”

  “He wants me to start on Thursday.”

  “Thursday? That’s...really...fast,” Julia said, pressing her palm to her cheek thoughtfully. “Can you even do that? I mean, how can you do that?”

  “I’ve found an apartment near the offices there. It’s vacant and I can move in as soon as I get there. I thought I’d just take a few things to start with, and later, I can rent a truck. I got a blow-up bed. I’ll wing the rest.”

  “Okay. You’ve got a handle on that part, I guess. Have you told your friends?”

  “No. I wanted to tell you first. Then I’ll tell everyone. Except, well, there’s a problem.”

  “And that problem would be Rafe Barzonni?”

  Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know that?”

  “I’m not blind, Olivia. You’ve been acting differently since the day we catered Angelo’s funeral. Plus, I have very good hearing. I hear the sweet undertones in your voice when you talk about him—and his horse. But mostly Rafe.”

  “I didn’t realize I did that.”

  “Are you in love with him, Olivia?” Julia asked, reaching up to caress Olivia’s cheek.