Karen and Veronica smiled. They loved Randy, loved how he loved horses, loved that he was always so kind to them. Mark too. They used to have a vet from another clinic that was so rough with the horses and so quick to give up on them. Randy was a godsend when he took over years ago.
Last stop for the night was the Wicomb’s place where a mare was due to foal any day. It was unusual to have one foaling this late in the year, particularly a Thoroughbred. But from the start the mare even getting pregnant happened under unusual circumstances. The Wicombs had unwisely pastured her last fall with a two-year old ridgeling colt, “Not interested in the least in breeding.” They found out the hard way there was no such thing. Adding insult to injury, the colt, in old man Wicomb’s words, “Started showing his stuff the very next morning. He must have been saving it for a rainy day.” It had poured the night of the dastardly deed.
The mare was in good health and surprisingly the colt was still intact, especially since he’d ended the racing career of a stakes filly that was highly competitive and still in her prime. Randy checked her over, deemed no foal tonight, and was soon on his way with a Tupperware container of Mrs. Wicomb’s Toll House cookies on the seat next to him. When his cellphone pinged, he sighed. Expecting it to be an emergency, he glanced at the number. It was Dawn.
He quickly flipped the phone open and dialed her number. “Hello!” The lined crackled and then went dead. “Shit!” He tried calling right back.
“Hello,” Dawn said. Then dead again.
Randy pulled off the road and jumped out of the truck to give it another try. “Hello! Dawn?”
“Randy?”
The higher he raised his hand, the better he could hear. “Hold on!” He climbed up onto the hood of his truck. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes! I can hear you well!”
“Me too,” Randy sat down on the roof. “How are you? What’s going on? You okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s been such a phenomenal day! I can’t even begin to tell you. How are the children?”
“Good. They’re good. I was home for dinner. I’m on my way home again. What’s going on? What’s happening?”
“Oh, Randy, there’s a clinic here in Aunt Maeve’s name. It took my breath away when I saw the plaque the women made. How’s Ben?”
“He’s fine. He’s good. What about you? Who’s Virginia?”
“This wonderful woman I met on the plane. She’s so much like Aunt Maeve. I’m taking her away from her work, but she’s doing it willingly. The children here need so much help.”
“Food you mean?”
“No. Surprisingly they seem to have enough food. They need medical care. So many of them have AIDS and so many with cleft palate. I’d bring one of the little girls home with me if I could. She’s so sweet. She follows me everywhere.”
Randy smiled, sitting there on the roof of his truck under the starlit sky, fireflies all around him. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too. I have to go now. The village women are going with me to the river. Give my love to the children.”
Randy’s eyes burned. “I will.”
“Give All Together a hug for me.”
Randy laughed, swiping a tear from his eye. “I’ll do that too. She might not appreciate me waking her up, but I’ll tell her it’s from her mommy.”
“Thank you.”
True to his word, when Randy arrived back at the farm, he walked down to the broodmare barn and gave Dawn’s mare a big hug. Normally, the horse wasn’t a big fan of Randy’s. After all this time, she still associated him with the pain of healing from her racetrack injury years ago. Tonight she didn’t seem to mind the attention. She even nickered at him as he walked up to the house. And then nickered again.
Chapter Nineteen
Junior nodded to Jason as he passed the guard shack. Jason nodded in return. It was a cool morning with a nice breeze under a full moon still so visible and so bright it gave the barn rooftops a shimmering glow. Manure bins steamed under the moisture of heavy dew amidst the echoing sound of voices and radios playing softly from barns everywhere.
“Please, please, please,” Junior said as he rounded the corner of the shedrow in the Miller barn. “Please.”
Max greeted him with an eager nicker along with all of the other horses.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Junior refrained from rushing down to the horse’s stall to check his feed tub. He almost didn’t even want to know. The fact that the horse appeared eager was good enough for the moment. He unlocked the feed room and wheeled the feed cart out and pushed it down the shedrow, checking each of the horses’ feed tubs before tossing in their breakfast. Max was last. He hadn’t eaten up entirely, but had left a lot less than yesterday and way less than the day before.
Junior dumped the leftover mash into the muck basket, rinsed out the feed tub, and tossed in the oats. As he ducked under the webbing, Max pushed and nosed at him and reached over his shoulder to get at the grain. “That’s my boy,” he said. “That’s my boy.”
Junior had a big grin on his face when Tom walked down the shedrow. “Did he eat up?”
“Not entirely. He left a little. I’m more encouraged by this,” he said, of Max eagerly eating his breakfast.
Tom agreed. “All right, so what happened to the first person here plugging in the coffee?”
Junior smiled. “It was too early. Wait a minute, why are you here so early?”
Tom wasn’t about to admit he’d been concerned about the horse also and add to Junior’s anxieties. “I’ll be in my office should anyone need me,” he said, pointing to the men’s room as he tucked the racing form under his arm.
Ben arrived about a half hour later, sat down with a cup of coffee, and checked the training chart. It was going to be a busy morning. Dusty hobbled in on crutches a few minutes later, weary, and with bloodshot eyes.
“I don’t think I slept a wink. It’s hard to sleep when your foot’s throbbing like a jackhammer.”
“Junior could probably come help you once he’s done here depending on how many other horses he has to gallop. Did you feed?”
“Yes. I’m glad I only have three at the moment. We’re supposed to move Julio’s horse down today though. He’s got another horse shipping in for that stall this afternoon.”
Tom entered the tack room, took one look at Dusty, and shook his head. “I told you, you weren’t going to be able to go up and down stairs.”
“Going up was no problem. Going down was the treat.”
Tom reached past him for Gizmo’s tack. “I’ll be up to help you after ten. Just leave the stalls alone. Don’t even mess with the haynets. I’ll get ‘em.”
On that note, morning training began. A little after eight, Junior came back off a horse for his father-in-law Tony and there in the Guciano shedrow stood Lucy. “What are you doing here? Where’s Julie?”
“Glenda’s watching her. I came to see Max.”
“He’s up at Ben’s.”
“I know that,” she said. “I stopped to talk to my mom if that’s all right with you.”
“Fine.” Junior jumped down off the horse and handed the reins to Tony. “You got any more for me to get on?”
“One,” Tony said. “Can you come back in about a half hour?”
Junior nodded and started to walk away then stopped. “You coming?”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Lucy said. “I know where the barn is.”
Junior walked away with a sigh. She was probably going to tell her mom everything.
“Can you get on one for me, Junior?” Castragano asked as he passed the man’s barn.
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”
Lucy waited until he was almost to the Miller barn and then followed. “Damn if he’s going to tell me what to do.” As she walked along, she heard someone else yell and ask Junior if he could get on one in their barn. This was a standard morning for him. He sometimes got on twelve or fifteen horses in addition to galloping for Ben. No one co
uld ever accuse him of being lazy. Not since they got married at least. He hustled and got on as many as he could each and every day. If it hadn’t been for his hustling, they wouldn’t have been able to build up her tuition fund as quickly as they had.
Ben looked up when he saw her in the shedrow and smiled. “Hey, Lucy! What are you doing here?”
“I came to visit Max.” She’d just been there two days ago and had done his mane. But this was the first time she’d been to the racetrack during morning training hours since she found out she was pregnant - the day her dad and mom kicked her out of the house. She and Junior had slept in Ben’s tack room that night. They had nowhere else to go. She remembered being so cold and so nauseated with morning sickness and how Junior held her tight to keep her warm, the two of them covered in horse blankets, his arm as her pillow.
She’d thought all night last night about his using her tuition money without asking her. He betrayed her. She also thought about how she’d never given a thought to the fact that their savings was for her tuition. Not theirs, but hers, and how excited Junior was every time he made a deposit into their bank account.
As she looked in at Max, his ownership took on new meaning. He wasn’t a horse that would be theirs when and if he ever won another race. He was theirs now. Hers and Junior’s. He belonged to their daughter Julie too.
After Junior had gotten on everyone else’s horses that morning and came down to get Max out with just minutes to spare before the track closed, Lucy had him tacked and ready to go. When she led the horse out into the shedrow and gave her husband a leg up, something she’d done so many times as his girlfriend, it was as if nothing had changed. Yet nothing was the same.
They had so many responsibilities now. So many grown-up hopes and dreams - dreams that all of a sudden now seemed within reach. Her tuition didn’t have to be paid for another two months. Maybe, just maybe, by then Max will win a race or two. Who knows, she thought, maybe we’ll win the lottery. She couldn’t help but believe in happy endings.
“I’m not going to be here every morning,” she said, gripping Junior’s leg as she walked along next to him and Max on their way to the racetrack. “I want you to know I support you. I support us. But don’t ever lie to me again. I’ve never lied to you and I deserve the same respect.”
Junior covered her hand with his and nodded, and just then Max let out a mighty squeal and bucked. Junior laughed. “Is that the best you can do, big man?”
Ben was standing at the rail and smiled as he and Lucy watched Junior jog Max on the racetrack toward the grandstand. There were just a few horses still training. Max bucked again when Junior turned him around and dug in and tried to run off. Junior had a tight hold galloping past them. “You know,” Ben said, “Meg and I were just about your ages when we got married.”
Lucy sighed. “That’s encouraging.”
Ben laughed. “You’ll be all right. You both will.”
~ * ~
Tiz Gee Wiz ended up having to be moved a lot sooner than planned. The van with the ship-in had already arrived when they paged Dusty at eight-thirty. As he made his way back to the ReHab barn to set up the stall, Franklin and Tiz Gee Wiz were practically on his heels. Normally he’d have a stall or two already set up, but what with his sore toe and hobbling around the past week he hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
Franklin put Tiz into the stall and filled his water bucket. Dusty always did that last anyway so the water was fresh. “You’re not going to mind if I come visit him, right?”
Dusty sat down on the bench outside the feed room to rest his aching foot. “As long as me or Tom or Junior are here.”
“What if no one’s here?”
“Well, you’d need authorization. This barn’s off-limits for just anybody. We’ve never had any trouble and wouldn’t want to start.”
Franklin stroked Tiz’s neck. “I wish I had a place for him. I don’t know what it is about this horse, but it’s like me and him are partners.”
“Friends,” Dusty said.
Franklin nodded, gazing up at the horse.
It was sad to watch. “Listen,” Dusty said. “I could use some help for a couple of weeks.” He gave thought to the fact that it could possibly be harder on the young man that way, but at least he’d have a little longer to say good-bye. Who knows what might happen between now and then. “It would just be for a couple of hours a day.”
Franklin appeared interested.
“We can work around your schedule at Julio’s. I can feed, no problem, but the stalls need done and the water buckets cleaned. Those two,” he said, pointing to a bay and another chestnut on the other side of Tiz. “They need done up every day for at least another week or so, and that one there needs his gel cast changed daily.”
Franklin nodded, looking in at each one of the horses.
“I’ll check the budget and see how much we can pay you. I don’t expect you to do it for free.”
“That’s all right,” Franklin said. “I’ll do it.”
Dusty smiled. He’d had a feeling he would.
Franklin patted Tiz on the neck and walked away. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
The young man had tears in his eyes.
~ * ~
Pastor Mitchell looked up from his desk when Connie and Dave Kaufman entered his office. “We’ve come to apologize,” Connie said. “We’re sorry.” Dave nodded dutifully at her side, cowboy hat in hand.
Pastor Mitchell studied the two of them for a brief moment. They indeed did look sorry. “I’m curious. Have you apologized to one another?”
Both took on “deer-in-the-headlights” expressions.
“Sit down. Please.”
Connie and Dave took a seat.
“I’ve thought about this long and hard and I don’t think you two should be together.” Pastor Mitchell held up his hand when Connie started to object. “I know it’s not my place to say, but you have rocked my confidence to the core. I can only imagine what your actions do to undermine the faith you have in one another.”
“Pastor, in all due respect,” Dave said. “I don’t think we need another lecture or told how we feel. We love one another. We just fight too much.”
“What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this that your passions are at war within you?”
Both Connie and Dave just stared.
“Chapter four of the book of James, verse one.”
“I don’t have any wars within me,” Dave said, “just Connie.”
“That’s my point.” Pastor Mitchell nodded, fully aware that Dave was trying to lighten the mood with what he obviously considered an endearing remark about his wife. “The fear from many around you is that your quarreling is going to escalate to physical violence, if it hasn’t already.”
“Dave would never hit me,” Connie said. “Who fears that?”
“Well, I’m not going to give you a list of names, but I can assure you that’s the sentiment of many who have had the extreme misfortune of being within earshot when you two go at each other.”
“We’re not the only ones that argue,” Dave said.
Pastor Mitchell scoffed. “Are you defending your actions with that lame defense? How many times as children did we hear about not jumping off a bridge just because someone else has done it?”
Dave held his breath for a moment and then sighed.
“So if you’re asking me to accept your apology for ruining my day with your arguing, I accept your apology. I forgive you. I forgive you for inciting me to anger as well. I forgive you for lowering me to that level when it goes against everything I believe in. Will I continue to pray for you? Of course. The bible says ask and ye shall receive, but frankly I just don’t see any long-term reconciliation for the two of you.”
“Well, how about we prove you wrong on that,” Dave said, standing.
“I’d like that,” Pastor Mitchell said. “I’d like nothing more than to be totally wrong.”
When Connie
rose to her feet and the two of them walked out the door, Pastor Mitchell sat back and drew a deep breath. “I’m running out of ideas, Lord. I’d sure be grateful if you’d step in and perform a miracle for these two. I’ve tried everything I know. No, I’m not proud of shaming them. I just don’t know what else to do.”
Chapter Twenty
Tom met Wendy and Richard for their weekly lunch appointment in the grandstand clubhouse. Always a mix of business and pleasure, the three of them looked forward to these routine get-togethers. The regulars and newcomers enjoyed their company as well. On the days the Miller barn didn’t have a horse in, Ben often joined them. He was a crowd favorite. So was Tom.
Chef Diamond Lou always made extra appearances when they were “in the house” as well. A lovable eccentric character who lived and breathed culinary, as he mingled from table to table sharing recipes and secret ingredients, he would inevitably either blush or get teary-eyed when complimented on his fine cuisine. “You like? You like? I so happy.”
The fact that the clubhouse was open only during the racing season added enticement for patrons to pack the dining room. “Daily specials to die for,” Wendy heard a woman say. She turned discreetly. It wasn’t someone she recognized, but Leon had the film crew focused on her for some reason.
“Who is that?” she asked Tom in a soft voice.
“I don’t know. Look at her jewelry. Leon’s seeing movie stars.”
“Her name better not be Janet,” Richard said.
The three of them chuckled.
Chef Diamond Lou worked his way to their table and planted a big kiss on Wendy’s cheek. “My lovely lady! Always pleasure!”
“Always good to see you too,” Wendy said. She adored the man, even though he initially quit his job because of her the first time they met. She smiled, remembering. It was the same day her sons met Tom for the first time.
Chef Diamond Lou meandered on, schmoozing and greeting more of the patrons. “Special today is blackened pork. I rub with a perfect blend of paprika, oregano, garlic, and thyme,” he could be heard saying two tables away. “Served with a side of garlic apricot quinoa; the grain of the Inca Emperor. Delicio!”
Book Four of the Winning Odds Series: Soon to be a Movie Page 12