A little glow of excitement lit inside him. He pulled the little box out, tossed it to Russ.
“What do you think of that?” he asked.
Seeing the familiar velvet box flash through the air, Russ caught it neatly, opened it and whistled low. He tilted it so Will could see the contents.
“Dayum,” Will said, in admiration.
“Pretty,” Russ said.
“I’ve been carrying it around since after that first race, as sort of a good luck charm,” Josh said. “I’m thinking of giving it to her if we make it to the Hambletonian.”
The first race in harness racing’s Triple Crown, the Hambletonian was held at the Meadowlands in August. If they only made it that far, Josh would count himself a happy man.
Russ looked at him, his gaze level, sure. “We will.”
There was dead certainty in the man’s voice.
“All right.”
Something about that certainty settled the last of Josh’s own doubts, the niggling fear that his judgment was wrong, that Fair wasn’t the horse Josh thought he was, despite his impressive figures.
“That’s a couple months away yet,” Russ said.
“It is,” Josh said, “But I want it to be a special occasion. If she’s already dressed up she won’t be expecting it and I can ask her in front of all those people.”
“Like I said,” Russ cautioned, giving him a look, “don’t wait too long.”
Josh grinned. “That long and no longer, I promise.”
Grinning back, Russ nodded. “Good enough.”
“So hold onto that for me,” Josh said.
“Will do,” Russ said, with a nod.
“And don’t lose it,” Josh said.
Sticking the box in his deepest pocket, Russ patted it. “I won’t.”
“Good,” Josh said, “it’s been my good luck charm so far. Let’s get this show on the road.”
As Josh and Fair were led out onto the track, Russ and Will hurried to join Beth in the stands.
They were a long shot, at long odds. Russ could only hope that someone had bet good money on them, backed them to at least place.
He was pleased to see Tyler’s mother there.
They’d met a time or two at holidays, dated once or twice, and went to Tyler’s events. She was a good woman, doing her best by her boy. It was no fault of hers that she couldn’t keep him out of bad company, that was his father’s duty, but the boy had shown his character at the end, shown his upbringing. That was something Russ could appreciate.
She was an attractive woman, too, sweet, and a little shy.
It had to be rough on her, going it alone and he appreciated that, too, that she was doing the best by her son.
As they joined the small group Beth turned to look at him and Russ hid a smile, thinking of what was in his pocket. He slid his hand inside to feel the velvet box.
The horses were lined up in the gates and the gates began to move away as the horses settled into their rhythm, each driver certain they’d picked the right pace, the right start, that they were guiding their horses to the place they need to be at the right gait to move into position to win.
Russ could almost feel Beth’s tension, her body leaned forward against the rail of the stands, and he smiled in approval.
For Beth there was only Josh and Fair out on the track, Josh’s colors on his helmet and stretched across his broad shoulders. She knew they’d debated hiring a driver but had been concerned about Fair’s reaction to a strange driver. In the end, Josh couldn’t bear not to be the driver of his own horses.
She also knew how much it pained Josh not to be the one to race him and there was the question of whether he was the best driver to get Fair to the Triple Crown, if they could reach it.
For herself, there was no question.
This was Josh’s dream. A different driver would change that. Either Fair would make it or he wouldn’t, but Josh deserved the chance to try as much as Fair did, to race his dream horse in his dream race.
The horses rounded the turn and one of the name horses was boxed in at the rail.
Another horse was pushed out, his driver trying to find a place for him, a hole.
Josh threaded Fair through a gap, gave them some room.
They had to place well or have an extraordinary time in this race and in every race to come if they were to succeed.
It was still a long shot for a novice horse who’d been through what Fair had suffered.
But long shots happened.
As they came out of the corner the pack stretched out, some fell behind, others strove to move forward.
Josh was in the thick of it and then he found a hole so narrow Beth’s heart nearly stopped as he took Fair through it.
They were free of the pack now, in the clear to go after the leaders.
Like a fly-fishing line the whip sailed out, asking Fair for more.
Fair answered, stretching out a little more, his pace quickening now that he had room.
He started to gain on the fourth place runner as they came out of the turn and then he put him behind them.
It somehow seemed effortless, inevitable, as Josh and Fair closed on third and passed him.
There was only second, and the horse in second was slowing, easing up.
Beth’s breath caught in her throat.
She wasn’t even aware she clutched at Russ’s arm, her other hand locked tightly in Tyler’s.
Grinning himself, Will could only watch in amazement.
As the horse in second dropped back the driver of the horse in front, secure in the idea that he’d won, made the critical mistake of not asking for more speed and then Fair and Josh were just that much closer behind him that he didn’t see them until it was too late.
Once more Josh sent the whip flicking out, asking for more, and Fair gave it.
He passed the front runner by a head to win the race.
The reality of it just wouldn’t penetrate.
Even as Josh pulled slowly up to a slower pace, brought the grand horse around, he couldn’t believe they’d really done it.
It just stupefied him.
They had a chance, a real chance at running in one of the biggest races in the country.
He was grinning like a fool as Beth, Russ and Tyler joined him in the winner’s circle and then he had Beth tucked under his arm, laughing up at him as he shook Russ’s hand so tightly he could swear he could feel the bones crunch. Neither of them noticed it, they were so giddy.
The race the next day was for the pacers.
None of them had much time to think, there was only time to pack the horses up – even Bella had done well, taking a second in the filly run.
There was only time to sleep, and then move on to the next race.
“One more race and then we can really celebrate,” Russ said. “Will’s getting Chord harnessed up right now.”
Chord had started to show real promise with some competition from his new stable-mate. Adagio was setting times that would get her a chance to race as a Jugette in The Little Brown Jug race, the premier race for pacers.
Josh wasn’t going to deny any of his horses their chance to shine.
“Got it, give me a second,” he said, and pulled Beth around to look at her. “One more step, baby.”
Beth smiled up at him. “Getting closer.”
He only had a moment.
Gently he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, caressed her cheek, and then kissed her softly.
“Dinner out tonight,” he said.
Beth laughed. “Dinner is out every night we’re on the road.”
“True,” he said, and grinned in return.
Maybe he wouldn’t wait, maybe he’d give her the ring at dinner. Perhaps Russ was right, after all, why wait?
Was there a chance or any way they could get married at or just after the Hambletonian? He’d have to check.
He gave her another quick kiss, excitement filling him.
If he’d had th
e ring, he would have given it to her then and there, but he’d already given it to Russ for safekeeping.
“Be right back,” he said.
Shaking her head, she called after him. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” he said, and spun on his heel to go back for one more kiss. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
Beth watched him go, a tall lean and handsome man. Sunlight glinted off his rich brown hair. It still amazed her that he was hers.
The announcer was calling the race as they gathered in the stands once again.
Everyone was rooting for Chord. He’d come a long way, had started to show his lineage, his blood lines, since Josh had bought Fair.
He was such a great gallant horse.
This would be a testing ground for him, too.
It would be something if Chord won this race, too, a banner day for all of them, putting him in contention for The Little Brown Jug, too.
Chord had become Will’s baby and he’d brought the horse along beautifully.
The horse proved it, too.
“And they’re off,” the announcer said, as the gate pulled away and the horses hit their stride.
Josh loved this, he loved all of it.
To him the crowd didn’t exist, there was only the muted thunder of hooves, the sound of the horses blowing, and some of the riders calling encouragement, the smell of horses and the track, and the sheer glory of beautiful horseflesh moving as it was meant to move, running. It was a delicate ballet of men, horses and bikes, of split-second timing.
Then he saw it, saw the inevitability of it as one horse got crowded out and an inexperienced driver made a crucial, and nearly fatal, mistake.
In that one moment, he saw what was about to happen and regretted all the things he hadn’t yet done even as he tried to pull Chord out of it, turn him aside. In a surge of muscle, Chord answered, tried evade, but it had been too late from almost the first moment.
Horses and bikes connected, collided…
Wheels locked, the legs of horses tangled, drivers were thrown. They tumbled into thrashing legs, arms curled around their heads.
A hush swept through the stands, the sound of a collective breath was caught, as disaster, as horror, struck, and brought Beth’s eyes to the track from where she’d been making a comment to Mary, Tyler’s mother.
She couldn’t see Josh’s colors amid the chaos.
Out on the track one bike, moved outward into the path of the others as bikes tangled with horses in an explosion of motion, of bodies tossed to disappear among thrashing animals and a melee of metal.
It all seemed to happen in a horrifying slow motion.
Stunned, frozen, Beth could only stand and watch. As did everyone.
And then she was running as the crowd cried out at the immensity of the disaster.
Chapter Twenty Three
The track was crowded with emergency medical personnel, track employees, and veterinarians, all doing triage at once, all trying to save who and what they could save, move what they could move and battling to find a way to reach what they couldn’t. People hustled across the track carrying canvas stretched over metal poles to erect barriers that would hide the view of the carnage already there and the carnage yet to come from those in the stands.
Another enclosure was placed around Chord, his legs thrashing, and Beth cried out in denial, in grief, knowing what it meant. Some part of that beautiful horse had been permanently and irreparably damaged. Valiant Chord couldn’t be saved.
Tears burned in her eyes.
Where was Josh? Where was her Josh?
Track employees had formed a wall that wouldn’t let her pass.
Ambulances rushed onto the track as EMTs did triage.
“Josh,” she cried.
Bodies were loaded onto stretchers.
Russ said, “I’ll find him.”
He ran off.
She looked to Will, his face stricken as he watched, too.
Please, she begged silently.
Taking Will’s hand in both of hers, she held it, but even she flinched at the sound of the bolt that ended Chord’s life. Tears slid down her cheeks, nearly blinding her.
In her mind’s eye she could picture Chord fighting for position.
Now he was gone.
If Chord was there, and down, where then was Josh?
Fear sent panic racing through her veins like wildfire. Terror threatened to overwhelm her.
Still she, Tyler, and Will kept walking, looking around frantically.
Voices shouted, called to her.
They couldn’t be saying what she thought they were saying. Darkness hovered at the edges of her vision. Hands pointed, called to her.
Please no.
Then Russ shouted, gestured to the medics crowded around a still figure in familiar colors.
Beth cried out.
Josh.
He was so pale, so still.
Even as they arrived the EMTs were hustling him into an ambulance as Russ caught her. Held her.
They followed, Will staying behind with Fair and Adagio. Both horses had seemed to sense that something was wrong. They were still, watchful.
A thousand memories crowded as Beth watched them roll Josh past her into the emergency room, a place she could not go until someone told one of the nurses something and then suddenly they let her in where at least where she could see him. See what they were doing to him.
Russ’s arm was tight around her shoulders as Tyler clung to her hand.
She supposed watching was better than not knowing, as they cut Josh’s clothes off to examine the damage. There were marks on his forehead from where a hoof had clipped him. Far more serious was the bruising around his ribs, and his leg was canted at a strange angle until they carefully straightened it.
There was so much blood. His face was so pale, almost gray.
Tubes and wires were attached to him, IVs and such.
Without being aware of it Beth’s hands were clenched in Russ’s sleeve on one side, in Will’s on the other. Tyler had moved to join his mother.
Beth vaguely remembered crying out when they said that Josh was among those who had been badly injured, and her knees had buckled.
It had been Will who had caught her, held her, whispered gently, “He’s gonna need you, girl.”
Even in the face of his own grief, his own loss. That beautiful horse. Chord. She wept at the loss.
Chord had been so beautiful, so strong.
Her breath caught at Will’s words but they were enough to put strength into her knees again.
Josh needed her.
She had looked at Will, looked deep into his dark eyes. Turning, she glanced at Russ, his own brown eyes soft and sympathetic and then she had nodded, understanding, and somehow she’d found the strength to stand. She had to be strong, for them, and for Josh.
Desperately, somehow she held it together.
They hooked up monitors and tubes, assessed vitals, did emergency x-rays.
Josh’s eyes never opened.
The emergency room doctor stepped away, nodded as his team hustled to disconnect and reconnect and began to push the gurney down the hallway, moving fast. It wasn’t a good sign.
With two of the other drivers in his emergency room, the E.R. doctor looked tired. Stripping his head covering off, he ran his fingers through his thick blond hair.
“At the very least he has a concussion,” the doctor said. “We’re pretty sure some ribs are cracked and his femur is broken. That’s no light thing. We don’t know about internal injuries but he was wearing protective gear, so we can hope.”
Over the hours they learned that Josh’s protective gear had worked and that while his ribs were cracked they hadn’t done more damage.
His leg was another thing. It was tractioned, suspended.
They wheeled him into his hospital room, set up the bed and all the monitors and such. Each beeped steadily, reassuringly.
Beth tried to find a place on
him that didn’t have a tube stuck in it and couldn’t.
Finally, she curled a hand around his wrist.
Russ took up position by the windows looking out while Will took over the chair on the other side of the bed. Dimly Beth remembered telling them to go home, over Tyler’s protests, until Beth had fretted that someone needed to feed Wolf, that the poor dog was alone at the house.
Laying her head down on the bed she never knew when sleep took her.
She dreamed of Matthew and Josh, and didn’t know she cried in her sleep when she did, weeping for Matt and for Josh, for the fear that still ran through her. In her dreams she saw the car as she’d seen the racetrack crash, saw the collision.
It was the dampness that pulled Josh out of the darkness, the coolness of Beth’s tears on the skin of his arm that drew him.
He woke slowly, to find himself full of tubes and wires, groggy and bewildered.
Beth was asleep in a chair by his bed, her head resting on the mattress by his arm, her fingers wrapped loosely around his arm.
Looking around, he found Will asleep in a nearby chair and Russ standing by the window, looking out.
“What happened?” His voice was a thin croak, little more than a whisper.
Russ turned.
“There was a crash,” he said. “You were caught in the middle of it.”
Carefully, Josh freed his arm from Beth’s limp hand so he could stroke her hair.
There was something in Russ’s eyes, something that warned him.
“All right,” he said, “tell me. How bad was it?”
Very quietly, Russ said, “They had to put Chord down. He’s gone, Josh.”
Josh hadn’t expected it to be so complete, so disastrous.
It took a moment to absorb.
Chord had had so much promise. Josh’s heart wrenched at the thought of his loss. Now they would never know how good Chord would have been. Could have been. He remembered the months of Chord’s training, remembered the big bay stallion and how he’d raced his heart out. Their hopes for the big money had been in Fair, but Chord had surprised them. Now he’d never win the Little Brown Jug.
Josh couldn’t believe he was gone.
“Damn.” It was all Josh could say.
He grieved for the horse. For the promise in him that they’d almost missed.
The Girl in the Window Page 17