by Stacy Hoff
“I’m sure that wasn’t it. We were talking business.”
“For someone talking business you were looking pretty misty-eyed. Admit it. Jake Carter is hot.”
True to form, Lenny appeared from around a corner. The dark, wet spots on his denim shirt and pants made it clear he’d been washing down horses. “Mindy, don’t you have something to do? I know Ryder does. She’s got a ton of business to attend to. All business.”
“Good luck with your chastity belt, Ry,” Mindy quipped before turning to go.
“That lady’s got some nerve,” Lenny muttered as Mindy took off in a jaunty strut, no doubt to annoy Lenny even more. “If she costs you a professional relationship with an important owner like Jake Carter, Mindy will have to answer to me.”
“It’s okay, Lenny. You know Mindy likes to joke around. There’s not a lot of females here to spar with, so she likes teasing me.”
Lenny placed his muscular arms on his hips and frowned. “I don’t like her talking to you so much. Or me, for that matter. That gal is trouble.”
Ryder put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re getting grouchy in your old age, you know. She’s only having fun. I don’t mind if it’s at my expense.” She dropped a kiss on his forehead and practically felt his mood lighten. When she let go he took off with a strut in his step.
Ryder was less happy. She had winced at Mindy’s words. Was her friend right? It had been quite a while since she’d had a date, but that didn’t mean she wore a chastity belt. Did it? She’d gone out with Pete a year or two ago. That counted, right? Not that there had been more than a handful of dates. Pete was a nice enough guy, but when he needed too much of her time she had bolted. The only thing that mattered was getting herself established as a horse trainer. To finally be a success at something.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a purposeful cough from a little man with light brown skin and dark brown eyes. His brown hair was cropped tight to his head, a mere whisper of a crown. From his diminutive stature, Ryder guessed he was a jockey. Currently dressed in denim, the man no doubt felt more at home wearing racing silks. “Excuse me, I’m here to see Ryder Hannon. Do you know where she is?”
There was a faint trace of Spanish accent in his voice. It made his words melodious.
“I’m Ryder Hannon.” She turned her head and called out, “Lenny!”
The old man was back in an instant. He folded his arms across his chest and raked his eyes over the newcomer to size him up.
The smaller man extended his hand. “Emanuel Velasquez.”
Though he had offered the handshake to Lenny, Ryder decided to shake it herself after Lenny let it hang in the air. “Emanuel, this is Lenny Godfried. He helps me run everything around here.”
“Which one of you is the head trainer?” Emanuel asked.
“She is,” Lenny grunted.
Emanuel nodded. “It’ll be my first time working with a woman trainer.”
“Get used to it,” Lenny shot out.
“I’m sure we’ll work together fine,” Ryder assured Emanuel.
“Yeah. Sure,” Emanuel said with less conviction in his voice.
“Let’s meet back up at three o’clock,” she said. “Mr. Carter will be back then with the horse.”
“Handsome Dancer, I know. I’ve heard he’s difficult, but I’m sure he’ll be a piece of cake.”
Ryder felt her forehead scrunch up. A too-confident jockey was never a good sign. But one reluctant to work with her would be worse. She blinked back the headache she felt coming on and chose her words carefully. “I hope you’re right but from what I understand about Handsome Dancer we’ll both have our work cut out for us. We’ll need to handle him with great care.”
“Sure,” Emanuel quipped casually. “Not a problem.”
Ryder closed her eyes and hoped she didn’t visibly wince again.
It was a relief to have Lenny clear his throat. “Ms. Hannon will let you know what is, and isn’t, a problem. You are dismissed.” The old man practically puffed out his chest when he spoke.
Emanuel stiffened and gave a curt nod. “I’ll go meet my valet now.”
“That’s a good idea,” Lenny responded coldly.
When Emanuel was out of sight, Lenny narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like that guy.”
She bit back a grin. “I can see that. I’ve got to admit I have my doubts about him, too. He must be a good jockey if Jake hired him, but his confidence level is troubling. Sure I want a jockey who believes he can win, but he has to be able to understand the challenge ahead. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. For now anyway.”
“You going to tell Mr. Carter your concerns?”
“Nope.”
Lenny shot her a squinty-eyed look.
“Don’t do that, Lenny. You know we need this business if we’re ever going to expand. I’m tired of being boxed out of stalls by the bigger trainers. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t do my job well.”
Lenny placed a rough, calloused hand on her bare shoulder.
She almost winced from the feel of his fingers on her sunburnt skin. I should stop wearing tank tops if I’m going to be in the sun all day.
But Lenny seemed to sense her reaction was emotional instead of physical. “You don’t need to keep proving yourself, Ryder. Anybody who can’t see your talent is a chauvinist. You can do the job.” Lenny cleared his throat. “Your father would be proud.”
When she bit her lower lip, he pressed her further. “Is this about you not racing anymore?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really.”
Lenny crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a flat stare. “You can’t live in the past. You’ve got to focus on the future. And trying to prove yourself to others isn’t going to do that for you. Only you can do that for you.” Lenny’s gaze shifted away as a look of disgust crossed his face. “Mindy, why are you always around here? Don’t you have horses to train? If not, that’s too bad because we’re not hiring.”
A large grin spread across Mindy’s tan face. Her trademark long brown braid hung over the left side of her denim shirt. “You’re not? Are you sure? Because I see you had a new jockey in here this morning. I wanted to get the 4-1-1.”
“You can dial 4-1-1 all you want because we’re not picking up the phone,” Lenny shot back. He grumbled under his breath, “If you weren’t a woman, you’d be dialing 9-1-1.”
“Down, boy,” Mindy retorted with an even bigger grin.
“Mindy, stop teasing him. Lenny, lighten up will you?”
“Who you hang around with is your problem,” he groused before walking away.
When he was gone, Ryder put her hands on her hip and gave Mindy a frown. “Why do you tease him?”
Mindy shrugged. “Why not? Anyway, what’s the skinny with the new jockey?”
Ryder answered her and then relayed her concerns. As much as Lenny detested Mindy, Ryder trusted her. Getting input from another trainer could only help.
“I agree you should give Velasquez a little leeway. For now. If he doesn’t snap into place you’ll need to crack the whip.” She grinned. “Just because you don’t like whips on horses, doesn’t mean you can’t use one on a man.”
Ryder laughed.
“In fact,” Mindy added with an even wickeder grin. “Some men like it.” She took the leather crop in her hand, bent toward the ground, and gave the earth a sharp thwat.
“You’re terrible,” Ryder answered, not meaning it.
“Joking aside,” Mindy said after she stopped laughing, too, “I heard some of your conversation with the grumpy troll. As usual, I don’t agree with him.”
“Oh? On what?”
“You can’t help living in the past if the past is what you want.” Mindy paused, her expression
soft. “Is a part of you upset with the new jockey because you still want to be the jockey?”
The question made Ryder’s head spin so sharply it was like suffering a bout of vertigo. “No, no. Of course not. I love being a trainer. Less dangerous. Longer career. It’s a much better bet.”
Mindy arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like your philosophy for your lack of love life, too.”
“Geez, Mindy. It’s just that I don’t need distractions from my goals—”
“I’m not sure you know what your goals are,” Mindy interrupted.
Ryder stood there speechless. “But . . .” Her words trailed off.
Mindy arched a single eyebrow and said nothing for a minute. “I only say these things because I care. You know I’ll support whatever you want to do in life, Ry. Just make sure to be true to yourself.” She gave Ryder a quick hug and headed off in the direction opposite Lenny’s. “See you later,” she called out behind her.
Ryder stayed frozen. Mindy may mean well but she couldn’t be right. Her decision to be a trainer was all about safety. Nothing more. Because horseracing was one of the most dangerous sports in the world. Life as a jockey meant understanding your mortality. As well as the mortality of the people around you. Including the ones you loved most. Like her father. The path of safety was always the best route to follow.
The physical pain from her failed race was long gone. The scars on her body, however, remained. And yet, the residual mental pain she dragged around like oversized suitcases was the worst baggage of all.
She tried to stay optimistic. Moved on with life as best she could. Living life with both feet planted firmly on the ground. Her journey moving forward started when she earned her trainer’s license from the State of New York. Then getting involved in a solid business. One she was successfully growing. Yet still she’d always wonder.
“Bye, Mindy,” Ryder said softly. She didn’t know why, her friend had already gone.
Lenny and Mindy both wanted what was best for her. That much was clear. But they advocated opposite things. Lenny wanted her safe. Mindy wanted her to put herself out there. To gamble. To take a chance on a dream.
If only I knew the answer myself.
When Jake stopped by at three o’clock with Handsome Dancer in tow he practically spun with nervous energy. Nervous as to how the training would go, sure. But also pleased to be seeing her. The woman was beautiful, brilliant with horses and obviously kind hearted. He had the feeling, though, that there were many layers buried under there. Layers he wanted to unearth.
How Ryder had had this effect on him, and so quickly, he had no idea. Normally, he was the one who kept a safe emotional distance from women. Especially after his engagement to Betsy had tanked faster than a ruptured water tower. The pain to his heart, and his wallet, was taking a hell of a long time to heal. Nothing was worse than being used.
Horses were a surer bet than women. Less emotional baggage. And they listened and did what you told them. Except, of course, Handsome Dancer. But with any luck, even this wild horse could be tamed. And thrive.
Sometimes, though, luck passed him by. A year ago, Jake had bought a filly named Sky Bound, the horse Betsy had wanted. Only to then have her dump him when he became financially overstretched from the expense. He had never wanted that loser horse in the first place. Investments made with the heart and not the head were dangerous risks. I should have stuck to my gut. I’d be a lot richer.
Focusing on Handsome’s success, as well as Jake’s overall success, was critical. Because the last time he wooed a woman he made a terrible bet. Business was the better move. The risks were quantifiable and calculable. The downside—being bored to tears from the dryness of it all—was easily fixed by watching the races. The thrill of a big win, with all the prestige that went with it, easily provided sufficient highs to make life worth living.
He could only hope his gut with Handsome Dancer was equally correct. Handsome had to win. Jake might be a chump when it came to females and fillies, but not when it came to colts and stallions. Which was why he was so focused on getting the right trainer. Even if it meant cashing in a few favors to get an extra stall for Ryder. His efforts were all meant for a big-payoff.
Whether the pay-off was strictly financial with her, however, he was no longer sure. Ryder had striking beauty. There was more to her, however, than being blessed physically. Her petite frame belied her strong nature. It took great guts to be a jockey, and even more guts to have attempted the field as a woman. Being a trainer was challenging, too. For a soft-spoken lady with an equally large soft spot for animals, she was certainly nobody’s pushover. A far cry from the debutant types he’d been dating. Like, Betsy. The largest challenge Betsy had ever taken on was him. Which, in retrospect, made them both losers.
Ryder waved to him from a distance, and he dropped his unconscious grimace. She was talking to a tall young man who was hot walking a beautiful bay. After a minute, he managed to catch her eye again. With a friendly wave, she came over. Her blond bob was in a short ponytail, loose strands flying in every direction from the warm breeze. The leggings pushed into her leather boots hugged every curve in an enticing way. A sleeveless flowery top fluttered, happily giving brief glimpses of her tight midriff. Her face seemed bronzer than the day before and infinitely more relaxed. Her countenance only made her more attractive. Blue eyes shone like the sky with strong afternoon sun.
“Hi,” he said, grateful to have pushed out the words. “That horse is beautiful.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But who needs beauty when you’ve got handsomeness?” She placed her hand on his horse’s nose.
The animal greeted her with an answering whinny.
“I can’t wait to work with you.”
“Guess he feels the same way.” As if the horse understood English, Handsome Dancer brushed his big, broad head against Ryder’s shoulders. “Maybe you two should get a room.”
She gave an unrestrained laugh. “I told you, he’s a lover not a fighter.” After a moment, she sobered. “Really, there is no telling how he’ll react to me once we start training him. If he’s loath to be ridden as you say, I’ll still have a challenge on my hands. Today I’m just going to let him get settled. Tomorrow we’ll get him started, but slowly. I’ll need time to figure out what makes him tick. Give me two weeks with him. Then you can stop by, and we can chat about any progress. Fair enough?”
“Of course,” he answered, though not being able to see her for two weeks wasn’t really fair at all. “Good luck with Handsome Dancer.”
“Thanks,” she answered, already distracted by the horse.
He gave her one last glance before leaving. He saw her hand wrap around Handsome’s big head in a way that made him feel a pang of jealousy he didn’t understand.
Chapter 4
It had only been two days since Jake saw Ryder at Belmont’s stables. At this point, he was already feeling antsy. He was doing his best not to get in touch with her.
Should he call her? No. If he did he would be a crazy, control freak owner. Or worse, a school kid with a crush. Which would be totally unfair because he was neither. Right?
He muttered a few colorful phrases he hoped the bartender didn’t hear. Country clubs had rules on etiquette, even in their bar. He chewed silently on his thoughts while waiting for Steven, his brother-in-law, to return from the bathroom.
What was it about Ryder that drew him in? Was it the way she treated Handsome Dancer? Her kindness to his horse, and all the horses in her care, went beyond mere professionalism. It bordered on motherly.
Not that motherly was the way he saw her. Not after he’d seen her in that sundress. She’d radiated that day, a siren. Maybe she was a witch.
Could be. Even a hardened, tough-minded male like Handsome Dancer had easily fallen under her power of persuasion. No fight. No lag time. Nada.
Just poof and then right under her spell. Her immense magic taking immediate effect.
No, Ryder wasn’t a horse whisperer. She was an all-living-things whisperer. Even if she wasn’t a witch, there was no denying he was bewitched. Damn, Jake. Shake it off. Women are bad news.
“Hey lover boy, you dreaming about your new trainer? You’ve been talking about her all night.”
Jake spun around in his chair at the bar of the country club to see Steven mock him with a falsetto voice and fluttering eyelashes. And then Steven clasped his arms together in a girly kind of way.
Then, as if that mockery was not enough, his bald, middle-aged, slightly paunchy brother-in-law crooned, “Ohhh, Jakey, you’re so handsome. You know you want to kiss me.”
Good thing I know he’s kidding around. And married to my sister. She wouldn’t be happy if I punched him out. Dina didn’t believe her husband would ever dole out this kind of crap. No wonder. Steven pretended to be the innocent around his wife. It was an act easy to believe. Most people would never guess from Steven’s buttoned-up conservative appearance he was a giant jokester.
Oh well, if I can’t beat ’em, join ’em. “Yeah Steven, I’m dreaming all right. And now you’re in my dream with me. Forget about my new trainer. You can be my lover instead.” He pursed his lips together in an exaggerated pretend kiss.
Steven faked gagging. “You can love family, but you can’t loooove family.”
“Love you? I want to kill you,” Jake ground out.
“Awww. Why is Jakey so moody? Girl troubles?”
Jake glanced at Steven’s fifth beer with distain. “You can’t possibly be drunk from beer, can you? Real men get drunk on scotch.”
“Let’s find out,” Steven shouted, dangerously loud for the country club bar. “Hey, bartender, two scotch whiskies over here, please!”