He gave her a big smile that showed he approved, albeit reluctantly. “If you don’t mind, I think I’d just as soon say nothing at all. They’re just waiting for something to sink their teeth into, and I don’t want to slip up and be the one to give it to them.” He walked around the van and stowed his gear in one of the outside storage compartments.
Nealy picked Charlie up in her arms and was on her way back to the house when she had a thought. “You want some gossip to spread at Keeneland, Hunt?” she called from across the driveway. “Something that will make those reporters sit up and take notice?”
“Depends,” he said as he hooked his thumbs under his belt in a nonchalant pose.
“Tell them I’m riding Flyby in the Derby two years from now.”
Hunt’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that! You’re a woman! You’re the horse’s trainer, not his jockey, Nealy.”
“Who says I can’t do that? And of course I’m a woman. I’m glad you noticed. But my gender has nothing at all to do with my ability to be a jockey. I’ll go to the wall on that if I have to.”
“But . . . You can’t!”
Nealy could feel herself bridle with anger. “Don’t you ever tell me what I can and can’t do, Hunt. Just after I arrived here, Maud told me I could be whatever I wanted to be if I worked hard and if my heart was in the right place. I believed her. I still believe her. Flyby is my chance to fulfill my promise to Maud.” She walked over to the colt and ran her hand across his withers. “I don’t know if he’s Triple Crown material or not. It’s simply too early to tell, but, by God, he is a Derby horse. He may be only five months old, but I’m telling you, he was born to run.”
Hunt clenched his teeth. “I swear to God you are more ornery than Maud and Jess put together. Cranky, too. A real curmudgeon.”
Nealy’s hands flew to her hips. “Listen, Mr. Sunshine,” she said, regarding him with amusement, “just do what you’re paid to do and shut up about all the rest.”
“Yes, sireee, ma’am,” he said, saluting smartly. He walked toward her. “I guess it’s out of the question to ask for a kiss?”
Nealy’s eyes brightened with pleasure. “I never said that.” She watched as Hunt tilted his head forward, eyes closed. At the last second, she stepped away and the kiss landed on Charlie’s furry face. She howled in laughter and doubled over.
“I’ll get you for that!” Hunt reached for Charlie and set him down on the ground. The little dog immediately grabbed his pant leg and tugged it, growling ferociously.
“Charlie!” Nealy scolded him before she bent over to pick him up. “Be good now.” She set him on Flyby’s back, where he dropped his head onto his paws and pretended to go to sleep.
Hunt scowled as he eyed the dog. “That,” he said, “is highly unorthodox.”
“According to you and everyone else around here, everything I do is unorthodox. Ask me if I care?” she challenged.
Smitty and Danny walked toward them.
“Let’s hit it,” Danny said as he stuffed his duffel bag into the van’s storage compartment and got into the backseat.
Hunt climbed into the driver’s seat and Smitty into the passenger seat.
“Have a good trip,” Nealy said, waving as Hunt started up the engine.
Hunt turned his head and winked at her. “I’ll deal with you when I get back.”
“Promises. Promises,” Nealy responded.
Nealy opened Flyby’s stall and walked him inside, noticing that one of the grooms had already filled his feeder. While he ate, she sat down cross-legged in the straw and stared straight ahead of her, her mind racing. Could the reporters trace her background? Even if they did, and they published the information, would it hurt her? So what that she was an unwed mother? So what that she’d run away from home at seventeen? So what that she’d landed on Maud and Jess’s driveway and they’d taken her in and adopted her and Emmie? So what?
She wondered what her father would do when he discovered her whereabouts. “There’s nothing he can do,” she said, talking to Flyby, who was munching his hay. “I’m well past the age of consent and my own woman now.” She thought about her father, about how he’d treated her. Prior to getting pregnant, what had she done to deserve his hate? She thought about his bitter Derby defeat. Windstar had come in fifth. Pyne and Rhy were probably paying for the defeat. She almost felt sorry for them. Almost.
Once her brothers discovered she owned Blue Diamond Farms, would they come crawling to her to help them? They could forget that. And what would Emmie’s father do? So many questions, and she couldn’t begin to answer any of them.
She shivered as Smitty’s advice rang in her ears. “Don’t talk to the press. Ignore them. Stay out of the limelight. When you don’t say anything, there is nothing for them to feed on.” For that reason she no longer answered the phone herself but let Smitty pick it up and screen the calls. For that reason, too, she decided not to go to Keeneland.
Out of sight, and, hopefully, out of mind.
Nealy leaned forward and hugged her knees. “This is where I belong,” she whispered to the colt standing in front of her. “I think I would die if I had to leave you and the others. Maud said God smiled on me when He gave me the feelings I have for all of you. She said I was special, but I don’t know for sure what she meant by special. My feelings, my understanding, my hands?”
She cupped the colt’s head in her hands and talked softly to him as she breathed into his nostrils.
It was the end of October, Halloween to be exact. The days were cool and brisk. As Nealy approached the barn, Flyby pawed the ground, snorted, then whinnied . . . his way of pleading for her to take him out of the stall.
Flyby was nine months old now and weighed 750 pounds, nearly the weight of a yearling. If he kept going, he would be every bit as big if not bigger than his sire, who stood 16.2 hands tall. Wherever Flyby was, Charlie was there, too. The two were inseparable. When Charlie had spent the night at the vet’s after being neutered, Flyby refused to eat. He’d even refused the treats he dearly loved. A knot of fear formed in Nealy’s stomach at the thought of what would happen to Flyby if something happened to Charlie. She prayed the little dog would have a long and happy life.
“So you want to run, do you?” she asked, rubbing Flyby’s velvety muzzle. “Well, it just so happens you’re going to get your chance. Today, when I take your father for a breeze, I’m going to take you, too.” She had been waiting for this day for a long time. She knew that, once again, she would be doing something unorthodox, but she had long since stopped worrying about such things. There was no law that said a colt couldn’t be breezed. As long as she took it easy and didn’t strain him or tire him, everything would be fine.
Head high, tail arched, Flyby proudly pranced beside his sire out to the track. They were a unique pair, father and son.
Nealy took it slow, first walking Flyby around the track, then trotting him for a couple of furlongs. He didn’t fight the lead but kept pace. Anyone watching him could see he was having a wonderful time.
“This is your future, Flyby,” Nealy told him, as they passed the practice starting gate. “Starting right now you’re on your way to being the number one Thoroughbred in the country, maybe the world.”
A trio of grooms bellied up to the fence to watch the colt being put through his paces. As if by magic, word of what was happening spread throughout the farm. Within minutes, the fence was lined with Blue Diamond Farms employees, as well as Emmie and Buddy.
Nealy saw them all out of the corner of her eye and smiled. This crew was so different from the others. She could almost feel that they were rooting for her.
After Flyby’s little workout, she handed him over to Danny to hold while she and Stardancer breezed with more serious intent. Late next year she would start entering Flyby in some prep races, so the sooner she started learning the ins and outs of being a jockey, the better. She was determined that no one was going to ride Flyby but her.
One of the exe
rcise riders, an ex-jockey, came onto the track. “You’ve got a good seat, Nealy, but you need to bend your legs more,” he said, as she rode past him. “Attagirl. Keep your head low. Good!”
She urged Stardancer into an even faster pace and flew past the crowd of watchers. She knew she had a long way to go, but this was a start. A damn good start. “Show them, Stardancer. Show them what you could have been!”
Stardancer ran full out, his long legs eating up the ground. Nealy had never felt such exhilaration. Her heart banged against her chest at the thrill of it all.
“Way to go, Nealy,” Hunt shouted, as she walked Stardancer to the track’s exit. “I take back everything I said. I was wrong. You can be a jockey. You will be a jockey.”
Nealy beamed at him. “Thanks, Hunt. It means a lot to me for you to say that.”
On her way back to the barn, Nealy remembered tomorrow was her birthday. She’d always treated it as just another day, but this time she felt like celebrating. What would happen if she took the day off? Could she take the day off? Maybe she could take the night off instead and go into town to a movie. A grown-up night out. Maybe Smitty would go with her. Or she could ask Hunt. No, he might think it was a date. Then there was the question of what to wear. She thought about the elegant, trashy dress she’d bought at Christmas but had never worn. Knowing she had no fashion sense to speak of, she knew it wasn’t suitable for a movie.
It was late in the afternoon when Nealy trudged up to the house for fresh coffee. On her way back she stopped in the office to see what Smitty was up to. “I think,” she said, taking a quick sip, “that coffee runs in my veins instead of blood. Have you seen Carmela?”
“Not since breakfast. She said she was going into town to get her hair done. Is something wrong?”
“No, everything is fine. As a matter of fact, it’s great, thanks to you.” Nealy sat down in the armchair in front of Smitty’s desk.
“Me? I didn’t have anything to do with what you did today. You did that all by yourself, girl.”
“I don’t mean that. I meant great because of what you’ve done for Blue Diamond Farms. I’m serious, Smitty. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Your Night Gallery recruits were some of the best employees I’ve ever seen. I was sorry they didn’t want to stay on, that they preferred . . . you know . . .”
“Don’t judge, Nealy. Accept. Thanks to their . . . ah . . . contacts, you now have a permanent working crew. It all worked out.”
“Yes, it all worked out.” Nealy stared into her coffee mug. “Let’s just hope everything else works out.”
Smitty pushed a copy of the Leader across the desk and pointed to an article at the bottom of the front page. “You’ve become one famous lady. The newspapers love you. I’m keeping a journal on it all. Someday you might want to write your memoirs.”
“I doubt that,” Nealy said, pushing the newspaper back across the desk toward Smitty without even glancing at the article. “So how’s the new office now that the wall is out?”
“Real good. At least I can move around.” To illustrate, she pushed her chair away from her desk and stretched her legs out in front of her. “See?”
“Yes, I see,” Nealy laughed. She had to admit that enlarging and remodeling the office had been a good idea. As for the old furniture, Maud’s father’s desk and chair, she hadn’t been able to part with them, so she’d had them taken up to the attic and covered them securely with old washed-out horse blankets.
Smitty pulled herself back up to her desk and clasped her hands in front. “I know how much you hate all this publicity stuff, and I don’t blame you, but I think you need to know it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better. You’re a hot topic, Nealy, especially now that you let it out that you intend to ride Flyby in the Kentucky Derby. That gave the press two tidbits of information, and it’s only natural that they’re going to want more.” She leaned forward, and whispered, “Why don’t you tell me whatever it is you’re hiding before I read it in the newspaper?”
Nealy took a quick breath. “Hiding? You mean my past? You mean you didn’t figure it out yet. I thought nothing got past you.”
Smitty raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I’m a good listener, and I know how to keep my lip zipped. Sometimes it helps to talk about things. That way those things don’t settle between your shoulder blades and weigh you down.”
Nealy stood up and started for the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she said, “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to show you something.”
Smitty flew out of her seat. “I have all the time in the world. I have this great boss who lets me do what I want.”
“It’s raw out, put on a jacket.” Nealy shrugged out of her denim jacket and handed it to Smitty. “Here, wear mine, I’ll wear Maud’s,” she said, grabbing the coat off the hook.
A gust of cold wind blew the women’s hair as they made their way to the vehicle barn.
Once inside, Nealy led Smitty to the back. “That’s my father’s truck,” she said, pointing to it through a curtain of cobwebs. Nealy walked around the truck and looked into the driver’s seat. Even after all these years she could remember how lost and alone she’d felt driving aimlessly through the rain to anywhere, nowhere. “My pa said I had shamed the family by getting pregnant. He’d never liked me much in the first place, but after Emmie’s birth, he liked me even less. I worked hard, damn hard, to prove that I was worthy of his love, but it didn’t do any good. Then I got sick, really sick, and went to bed. One of my brothers told me Pa was going to send Emmie to the orphanage the next morning. Pa hated Emmie, said she was a half-wit because she couldn’t talk.” She pulled a long painful breath. “With a little help from my brother, I took that truck and lit out. I had no idea where I was going. I just drove. All I had were the clothes on my back, Emmie, and the money my brother swiped from my father’s desk drawer.
“Blue Diamond Farms is where the truck broke down, and so did I. Jess found me wandering around on his driveway and brought me inside with Emmie. They told me later that I almost died.” She put her hands to her face. “I loved them, Smitty, with all my heart, and when they offered to adopt Emmie when I turned twenty-one, I said yes. They said it was all done legally but . . . Emmie . . . I don’t know if her father will ever come forward or not. He threatened to blow my head off with a shotgun if I ever said he was the father. I lied to Pa and said a vagrant attacked me in the barn. Emmie’s name on her birth certificate said it was . . .”
“Coleman?”
Nealy’s mouth dropped open. “You know?”
“Not everything, but I was able to piece some things together, which is what worries me. If I could do it, so could someone else.”
Nealy shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter anymore, Smitty. I’m well beyond my pa’s reach. Emmie is a concern, though. Then again, maybe not. Her father is a respected businessman with a family of his own. I doubt he’d want to stir things up. It would ruin his image.”
“What about your image?”
“My image? People already see me as someone who does things in an unorthodox way. How is getting pregnant at seventeen and running away from home any different? So they bring up my past? I can deal with it. I learned a lot from Maud and Jess. Maud said no one can hurt you unless you allow it. Well, Smitty, I damn well won’t allow it.” She walked to the back of the truck and pulled out the bucket of dirt. “See this? When I was leaving SunStar that night I stopped in the pouring rain and filled it with SunStar dirt. I wanted to take something from home for Emmie. It’s just dirt but . . . Emmie doesn’t even know it’s here. I keep asking myself why I’m keeping it, and I can’t find the answer.”
“What about your brothers, Nealy?”
“Even though Pa’s in his eighties, I imagine he still rules them with an iron hand. They were petrified of him, just the way I was. You know what’s sad, Smitty? I can’t ever remember seeing them smile. Or Pa. I know I never did. I never knew my mother. I
don’t know if Pyne or Rhy remember her. I’m glad she’s dead because I don’t think she could have stood up to my pa. He probably worked her to death the way he tried to work me. He worked me like a dog, Smitty. When I left there I was like some beaten, tired old junkyard dog. I came here into sunlight, warmth, love, and found substitute parents. Loving parents.
“I won’t go to Keeneland because my pa and brothers go there. We sold them quite a few horses. My pa even came here once to pick one of them up. I think it was the third year I was here. Maud and Jess closed off this place like it was one of those hostage movies. They gave him what he wanted and hustled him out of here so fast his head must have been spinning. At the time I didn’t know how Maud knew, but Jess told me later the truck’s registration papers were in the glove compartment. She never let on to me she knew. Jess didn’t either until Maud was dying. Sometimes I regret that we never talked about it. Smitty, I was so young, so green back then. Hell, I didn’t even have a driver’s license and didn’t know what a social security card was. According to my brothers, what I did know was how to open my legs and shame the family. With a half-wit. That’s my story.” She smiled as she put the bucket back into the truck bed. “Listen, tomorrow is my birthday. Would you like to go to a movie with me tomorrow night?”
“Ah, gee, Nealy, I have a date. But I might be able to break it.”
“No, that’s okay. Maybe I’ll take the kids into town for ice cream or something.”
“Why don’t you ask Hunt? I think he’s kind of sweet on you.”
“I can’t do that,” she said, wondering what she was afraid of. “Hey, you know what? Remember that first day you came out here and applied for the job?” At Smitty’s nod, she continued, “I almost didn’t hire you that day. You were so . . . so . . . in command, so confident and sure of yourself. I wish I could be more like you. I can be like that with horses but not with people. How did you get that way?”
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