Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3)

by Bev Pettersen

  “We have fourteen horses and twenty-four more stalls to be built. Five horses ready to be placed after two months of riding. The other ones need more work. Lots more work.”

  She said good-bye and closed her phone, shaking off her unease as she saw Jack, a tall bay with a crooked blaze, leap sideways and knock his handler to the ground. Jack looked like Buddy but had a personality like Assets. He wasn’t fast enough to race so the owner had shipped him to Jessica, hoping she’d find him a more suitable career.

  He might make a nice dressage horse with his brash attitude and big movement. He was a hard guy to work with though. Most of the staff were afraid of him, including her. Mark would have matched him with a groom who could appreciate the horse and simply focus his aggressiveness on winning. But she wasn’t training horses to race, and most people wanted a more submissive personality. She simply didn’t know how to handle the tough animals.

  Another question for Maria, she thought, as she passed the ring and trudged back to the old farmhouse. Fourteen horses, and already she was swamped. She’d be in trouble with ten more, especially if they were challenging ones. Maybe she should concentrate on taking only the quiet horses, like Buddy. They were quicker to retrain and easier to place.

  Best of all, the sensible ones could be turned out in the huge pasture. She paused to admire the mares as they gobbled the spring grass. On the other side of the fence, four geldings played like little boys. It was wonderful to watch them run free. If she had more time, she would have lingered for hours, enjoying their antics.

  At least Doris handled the fundraising. Probably time to tell her to slow down. They’d already purchased the farm outright and after only six months of operation had so much money, the directors were nervous.

  “This is a not-for-profit organization,” they’d warned. “You need to build an indoor arena or pay the staff more. Whatever you do, spend it before year end.”

  Her phone chirped. She checked the display as she opened the porch door. Maria. She flipped open the phone, slamming the screen door in her haste to hear the latest in Abdul’s legal wrangling. “What did the judge say?” she asked.

  “Decision was postponed.” Maria’s voice quavered. “Even though our apartment is off track, she thinks our work hours are too irregular. Pedro wants to take Abdul and go back to Mexico before we lose him forever.”

  “Oh, no.” Jessica squeezed her eyes shut and dropped into the closest chair, staggered by the news they might leave. Maria was still Jessica’s closest friend. Jessica called her every afternoon, and it wasn’t just to pepper her with horse questions. And Abdul! Jessica couldn’t imagine not being able to see him. On her frequent trips to the city, she always stopped by their tiny apartment, despite how her heart pounded whenever she was within a two-mile radius of the track.

  She swallowed and stared out the window, watching as Jack kicked the top rail, smashing it into two jagged splinters. “What a jerk,” she said, in no mood to appreciate his spirit.

  “Who?”

  “Oh, nothing. It’s just a horse here who needs an attitude adjustment. I wish you and Pedro could come and teach him some manners.”

  “If you could pay us, we’d come.”

  Hope jerked Jessica from the chair. “But of course I’d pay you. We need a stable manager. Someone who’s used to bad actors. You and Pedro would be perfect. I just never dreamed you’d leave the track.”

  Or leave Mark. Jessica couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to do that. A familiar excitement warmed her, just knowing she was going to hear his name. She tried to avoid asking many questions, but sometimes Maria passed on tidbits, and every night Jessica scanned her computer for race news.

  After the Breeders’ Cup, she’d written a check repaying Buddy’s money. She’d also spent three days drafting a letter, but when Maria said Mark and Cathy seemed to be dating again, she’d ripped it up and immersed herself in establishing Buddy’s Thoroughbred Retirement Center. At least she’d mailed the check. And if Mark wanted to talk, he’d find her. Last month there had been an article written about the Center, so he could find out where she lived. He simply hadn’t cared enough to track her down.

  He might care though if she stole one of his grooms. Might call and complain. Even pay a visit and yell. That thought sent a wicked thrill coursing through her body.

  “I could come by your apartment and load everything in the horse trailer,” Jessica said as she paced around the kitchen, excited now and talking fast. “Move you out in a few hours. But what would Mark think? You know, about you leaving? Leaving to work with me.” She picked up an apple then dropped it back into the wooden bowl, unable to remain still.

  “Oh, he wouldn’t care,” Maria said. “He’d replace me in an hour. People are always begging him for jobs. The sheikh is so happy with the way Mark developed Strike A Pose, he sent him more horses. Strike wasn’t even a top two-year-old, but now has a shot at the Derby. Mark is so good with youngsters. Takes them slow. Willing to wait and let them mature.”

  The bottom of Jessica’s stomach pitched, and she sank back in the chair. He wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if Maria walked, just like he hadn’t cared about Jessica. She was barely able to concentrate as Maria continued talking about Mark’s chances of winning the Kentucky Derby. No, it didn’t sound like he’d chase after another errant groom—not when he had sheikhs calling with their fancy Derby horses.

  She glumly reached for an apple again, unable to quiet her restless hands, unable to resist a little probing. “So how is everyone else doing?” she asked. “How’s Trooper running for the ESPN people?”

  “Pretty good. Emma Rae is healthy again and rode Trooper to a third. Strike won this weekend too, with Steve riding. That was Strike’s last prep before the Derby.”

  Jessica palmed the apple, remaining silent, hoping for more. She already knew the race results, was glad Emma Rae was riding again, was glad Strike A Pose was a Derby favorite. But it was the barn gossip she wanted. She squeezed her eyes shut and finally asked, “So? Is Mark really seeing Cathy?”

  “Hard to tell. He’s reserved round the barn, but sometimes they leave together, and that’s enough fuel for the Tattler. You should drop by. It’s different now. We all get a day off and since the spring meet started, there’re more people around. Everyone would love to see you.”

  “Really?” She walked down the hall and studied her face in the mirror. A strand of hair had escaped from her ponytail, and she tucked it behind her ear. She needed a haircut, maybe highlights. Cathy was always impeccably groomed.

  She shook off her melancholy and grabbed a pen, jotting down numbers, trying to figure what salary would be generous enough but not too outrageously high for the accountants. A groom’s pay was low, but the bonuses Mark handed out would be considerable. She didn’t want Maria and Pedro to take a loss.

  “What kind of salary would you need?” she asked.

  “The judge wants to see a more traditional environment.” Maria blew out a sigh. “We don’t need a lot of money.” She tentatively suggested a figure that was so low, Jessica tossed the pen aside, buoyed with fresh optimism.

  “But we can at least double that.” She gave a little skip as she crossed the kitchen, realizing this might work. “And they just built a new school here. The bus stops across the road and picks up a boy who looks about Abdul’s age. His name’s Timmy, and he loves horses.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jessica watched in delight as Pedro moved Jack around the pen. The horse was much improved, loved to work and merely needed a firm hand. She’d note on the website, ‘Needs experienced rider, but lots of attitude and potential.’

  “Let’s include a video, Maria,” she said as Jack moved into his beautiful floating trot. “He has lovely suspension. Eventers might love him.”

  Maria nodded. “And the gray gelding is doing well too. Pedro will build more jumps this afternoon once the school bus comes. Abdul and Timmy love to hammer.” Her eyes were slightly m
isty as she looked at Jessica. “I’m so glad we moved here.”

  “So am I.” Jessica gave Maria a fervent hug. It had been a good move for all. They’d only been here five weeks, and she didn’t understand how she’d managed without them. Abdul was flourishing, and so was the facility.

  “You didn’t tell me you had more horses coming,” Maria said, watching a gleaming white trailer crunch up the driveway.

  “Didn’t expect any.” Jessica walked out to meet the rig.

  A ruddy-faced man with blue suspenders stepped down from the truck, clipboard in hand. “Jessica Boone?” he asked.

  At her nod, he stepped forward and offered his pen. “Need your signature. The horses’ papers are in the envelope along with the Coggins test and vet records.”

  Frowning, she ripped open the manila envelope. She didn’t want to turn horses away, but she only had a few stalls left and had already promised a Belmont trainer she’d take his ‘good old boy.’ She flipped through the papers, her frown turning to a gasp as she looked up and saw a heavily muscled bay strut down the ramp.

  Such a distinctive walk. The horse inspected his surroundings with an imperious gaze, like a king surveying his domain. The mares crowded the fence, recognizing attitude, and he strutted for them with masculine arrogance.

  “Oh my! A colt. Looks a lot like Assets,” Maria said. “Acts like him too,” she added as he nipped at his handler.

  “It is Assets.” Jessica’s voice thickened with emotion. “And the other two are Belle and Rocky.”

  “Belle and Rocky!” Maria squealed. “I never thought I’d see them again. But stakes horses in their prime? They’re worth millions. What are they doing at a retirement center?”

  “He’s giving them to me,” Jessica said as she reread her grandfather’s note.

  Jessica, I hope some day you’ll forgive me. Despite what you think, I only wanted what was best, although it appears you’ve found that on your own. I asked Mark Russell to train these animals, but he refused to take them back. I expect he’ll give you a different answer. Doris told me of your accomplishments. I’m very proud. Love always, Gramps.

  Jessica pressed the note against her chest, her emotions swirling. He was proud. Her throat was so thick, she was glad Maria was too stunned to speak.

  Pedro rushed up, his face alight with reverence. “I’ve always wanted to lead a stakes horse, boss. With your permission, I’ll put these fine animals in corner stalls.”

  Jessica gulped and nodded, still unable to speak. Something pricked her eyes, and it took several clumsy attempts before she could slip the note back into the envelope. She’d called her grandfather the day after Breeders’ Cup, but he’d never admitted he had sabotaged her ski career. He’d also refused to say why he had moved his horses, only that they needed a different trainer and Mark had suggested Radcliff.

  She’d known then her grandfather was lying. Mark would never recommend Radcliff. It would have ripped him apart to see Assets in the barn of a man he despised. She folded her arms, aware of Maria standing beside her. Still motionless. Still gaping.

  “I’m not sending them back,” Jessica said softly. “But yes, this makes me an owner. Sometimes we just have to accept things.”

  “Dios mio. Only a fool would send them back.” Maria shook her head. “But you? An owner? Of stakes horses? It just takes some getting used to, that’s all.” She allayed Jessica’s fears with a beautific smile that seemed to wrap her entire face. “You’ve come a long way, kid.”

  ***

  Jessica’s stomach churned as she paced the kitchen, willing the clock to move faster. Finally. Late morning. Eleven o’clock. The perfect time to call Mark. She hadn’t called earlier when he’d be training, didn’t want to call in the afternoon when he might be with Cathy and definitely not in the evening when he could be busy with owners.

  She knew his number by heart. So many times she’d wanted to call, especially after a few glasses of wine, and now she had the perfect reason. Everyone knew he was the best trainer for Assets. Since the Breeders’ Cup last fall, the colt had run two more times for Radcliff. Each race he’d flashed his blazing speed but faded in the stretch.

  Mark could bring Assets back to winning form. And he could train Rocky and Belle as well. He might have lots of business, but no trainer could afford to turn down three stakes horses. And Assets had always been his favorite.

  With her horses in his barn, she’d have an excuse to visit. She drove to the city for meetings with Doris anyway and this time around, she wouldn’t be begging for a job. She’d be cool and professional and prove she wasn’t a liability. In actuality, she’d be hiring him.

  She used her unlisted phone, afraid if he saw the Boone name he might not answer, and pressed his number before her courage fizzled. Two rings and a recording. Mark’s abrupt voice made her stomach flip. Shit! Her cheeks flamed, and she broke the connection. If she left a message and he didn’t return her call, she’d be stuck in limbo again.

  She pressed her hands over her hot cheeks. Just the sound of his voice made her heart race. But why did he have his phone off this time of day? Maybe he was looking at a horse’s leg or talking to the farrier or feed man…which meant he was in the barn. She pressed the barn number before she lost her nerve.

  A strange voice answered. She asked for Mark.

  “One moment,” the voice said.

  So far, so good. She steadied her ragged breathing. Listened and waited.

  A horse nickered, and someone laughed. A bucket clanged. Then she heard Mark’s deeper voice, his real live voice, and her heart rammed against her ribs. Oh, my God. Such an intense wave of longing filled her, she couldn’t breathe.

  But minutes passed, and he didn’t come. She sucked in some air. Clamped the phone tighter against her ear, straining to listen, feeling like an eavesdropper. She recognized Dino’s voice, Doc Walker too. Someone muttered, and she was certain she heard Mark curse.

  He must be in a bad mood. Maybe a horse was hurt. Oh, God, this was such a bad time to call. She should hang up. But she clung to the phone like a lifeline.

  “He’s busy. Can I take a message?” the voice returned, so gruff her stiff fingers almost dropped the phone.

  “I need a trainer for three horses,” she managed. “Stakes horses.”

  “Just a sec.”

  The man was back in an instant. “Mark’s full but says to try Kurt MacKinnon. Barn sixty-eight.”

  “Thanks.” She spit the word out and snapped the phone shut. Dammit. Mark hadn’t even asked the horses’ names.

  How important did he think he was? Just because a sheikh thought he was wonderful, and maybe Strike A Pose had won the Derby last month. Still, they hadn’t won the Preakness, and Assets was just as good as anything the sheikh owned. And she and Mark had picked out Rocky together at Keeneland, and Belle was a brave, beautiful filly who’d battled and beaten colic.

  Misery balled her throat, and she called Dick.

  “Darling, I could do with your help here,” he said. “The mice have taken over the apartment, and I’m afraid they’ve chewed some clothes.”

  “Oh, Dick,” she wailed. “You’re so lucky to be at the track.”

  “Yes, Belmont is wonderful,” he said smugly. “All my favorite horses made it back from Florida, and Mary’s my downstairs neighbor again. Do come and visit.”

  “I asked Mark to train my horses and he w-wouldn’t.” Her words caught on the painful brick in her throat.

  “Well, he’s a Derby winner now. And rumor is Sheikh Khalif wants him to go private, but he refused. There’s another rumor too, darling.” Dick’s voice bubbled with barely contained glee. “I just came from the track kitchen and heard Mark no longer trains the ESPN horse. Apparently Cathy shipped Trooper to Dubai…when she got married.”

  “Married!” Jessica’s smile was so big, her lips caught on her teeth. Obviously the Tattler had greatly exaggerated Mark and Cathy’s relationship.

  “Thought that would
cheer you up.” He laughed. “And since I’ve put you in such a good mood, would you share a few names from your Four Hundred list? Doris said you raised eighty percent of your money there.”

  “You can have anything you want, Dick,” Jessica said. “Anything at all.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jessica drove through the main gates of Belmont Park driving the Center’s diesel truck and hauling a shiny aluminum four-horse trailer. The security guard gave a polite smile, called barn seventy-two to confirm, yes, she was indeed picking up a horse then waved her through.

  “This is Harry. He’s a good old boy,” the trainer said, leading an inquisitive bay from the barn. “Six years old, thirty-two starts and still sound. Glad you’ll find him a home. He isn’t the fastest, but he’s definitely the barn favorite. The owner wants to do the right thing for him.” He scratched the horse affectionately on the shoulder. “Good luck, old man.”

  He spoke with such affection, Jessica’s throat convulsed. She hadn’t been able to save Buddy, hadn’t even been able to say goodbye, but she was helping this fellow. Sometimes raw emotion bushwhacked her.

  “I can send updates.” She averted her head and gave her eye a swipe. “Let you know where he goes. What his new career is.”

  “I’d appreciate that. We all would.” The trainer gestured at a solemn-faced group clustered around the shedrow and a groom limped over, clearing his throat as he fed Harry one last peppermint.

  “I learned to gallop on him,” a pert-nosed exercise rider said while she straightened Harry’s mane. “He made sure I never fell off. You know how it is? When you get on a horse and just know he’ll look after you?”