It was as if the crowd ceased to exist. The cheering fans became a dull buzzing in the back of her skull as her ears honed in on the announcer shouting out the track positions as the horses came thundering out of the gate. Her eyes zeroed in on the bright green silks and the powerful red mane of her favorite colt in the entire world.
Red was in the middle of the field, in seventh out of twenty three-year-olds. The pack rounded the first turn and Eddie let him out a little more. While two colts up front battled for the lead, Red eased into sixth... then fifth. By the half mile mark, Ryan could see him pulling against Eddie's guidance.
He wanted it.
He hated seeing horses in front of him.
In the final turn, Eddie let him loose.
Ryan held her breath as she watched a miracle be born right before their very eyes.
***
“Faramir's Fire, in a sudden move, has overtaken Ballast Belle, moving into fourth. Twice On Sunday is challenging True Gentry for the lead. Wanderlove is holding onto third. No! Faramir's Fire is blazing a trail for the front of the pack, passing Wanderlove! Faramir's Fire on the outside, True Gentry and Twice On Sunday neck and neck! Faramir's Fire isn't slowing down! And Faramir's Fire has taken over the lead! They're coming down the stretch and it's Faramir's Fire by three, four, four and half lengths, Twice On Sunday in second, True Gentry dropping to third.
And the winner of this year's Kentucky Derby is Faramir's Fire! By seven lengths!”
***
Later, the media would talk about the size of his heart. They would speculate if it was bigger than most race horses, because he so clearly wanted it more.
Indomitable, was how they would describe him.
And it would only be Jesse, Ryan, George, and Eddie who really knew the truth. Because they knew him best.
***
Eddie stood in his stirrups to slow down the winner and something happened. It happened quickly. It happened harshly.
Ryan's elation suddenly and definitively turned into horror. She heard a hoarse shriek erupt from her lungs, the rawness of her voice startling her, as Red's feet tangled limply and his enormous body hurtled forward, collapsing lifeless on the track. Eddie's body pinned by a leg on one side.
The cheering crowd let out a collective gasp and Ryan stumbled on her pretty Mary Janes down the steps to the railing of the track.
The race caller was speaking but Ryan couldn't hear him over the blood pounding in her ears. She ran down the side rail, through a tunnel and smacked full body into a guard.
“Where are you going?” he asked roughly, his hands on her arms.
Ryan tried to wrestle free of his grasp. “My colt! He needs me!” she shouted, not recognizing the shrillness of her voice.
“You can't go out there,” the guard yelled, shuffling her backward.
At that instant, a flock of photographers rushed through the tunnel and the guard let Ryan go as he attempted to stop them. She ducked under the rail and ran.
She ran as hard and as fast as she could, her pumps digging into the soft cold mud, her gaze fixed on her motionless colt. Bodies were crowded around him, trainers, vets, jockeys.
She ignored the burn in her lungs and the shouts behind her. She ran with everything she had left in her.
When she reached the unmoving mahogany body, she collapsed on top of his head, burying her wet face in his.
She knew she was screaming — sobbing — every last heart string snapping in her chest.
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind and dragged her away. She fought it desperately, clawing, pushing, kicking, never taking her eyes from Red's lifeless face. A face that had only just a few weeks ago been pressed to hers in tenderness and trust, breathing air across her skin and life into her soul.
And now... nothing. Just... nothing.
***
Jesse closed the door softly and listened for a beat.
Silence.
He heaved out a sigh, his shoulders sagging as he shuffled to the table and chair waiting for his return. He gathered the two glasses on the shelf, sat down, and twisted off the cap to the bottle of Woodford Reserve he'd picked up on the way back to the hotel. His eyes pointed to the still, small figure in the bed. Right where he'd left her.
He poured the bourbon into both glasses and settled in to wait.
Leaning forward, he put his elbows on his knees and ran both hands through his hair, finishing with a squeeze to the back of his neck.
“Hm.” So this was what defeat felt like. Defeat and agony. The torturous kind, making up for all the time lost in Jesse's life when he'd felt good. This moment was designed to even it all out, bring him back down to nothing. Where he belonged.
He'd failed somehow. He'd failed his colt and he'd failed his friend. It had been up to him to protect them.
The girl stirred slightly and he slowly lifted his head.
Ryan rolled over and her eyes fluttered open, landing on him. Her dark eyes active as she tried to figure out what had happened. When her eyebrows dipped in a frown, Jesse finally spoke.
“Doc had to sedate you,” he explained softly as the image of her face and raging sobs slashed through his memory. “You'll probably be groggy for an hour or so. Your body will be sluggish until tomorrow.”
Her eyes glossed over and her lips parted in a soft gasp. “Red?” she asked.
Jesse sucked in a breath through his nose as his own vision blurred. He just shook his head.
She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around a pillow and pressing her back to the headboard. Her pretty dress all covered in mud.
Tears ran down her cheeks silently for several minutes as she stared at the bedspread. “What happened?” she asked in a whisper.
Jesse swallowed and looked to the ceiling. “Uh, complete cardiac failure.”
Ryan's eyes closed.
Jesse recalled again that horrible moment on the track when he saw his colt collapse in one second and in another, he saw his best friend's heart shatter into a million pieces. He didn't even know she was there until she was suddenly there.
He would never forget her voice. Or the absolute horror on her face.
Fighting to get her away. Fighting his own reaction to what had just happened. Demanding Doc to help her. Carrying her to the hotel. Meeting with Caleb.
Saying goodbye to Red.
The first goodbye of two of the hardest goodbyes of his life.
“They're going to do an autopsy,” he said. Her eyes darted back to him and flicked briefly to the glasses of bourbon. “I have to return to the farm tomorrow. I don't know what you —”
“I'll go with you,” she declared, her voice rough with the damage she'd done to it.
Jesse took a slow breath. “Okay.”
He would tell her goodbye later. Tonight... tonight they would drink to Red. And all he had been.
Jesse picked up her glass and held it towards her. She crawled across the bed and took it from him.
“Is it safe for me to drink after my sedation?” she asked with a sad smirk.
“Yeah,” he answered with a solid nod. He lifted his own glass. “To the best damn racehorse in the world.”
Ryan's eyes flooded again and she lifted her glass as well. “To Red.”
twenty-five
“You are capable of great things, daughter.”
Tampa, FL
May
Ryan closed her laptop and took a deep breath. Her eyes drifted to the night sky as she eased back on the patio chair.
She had always loved the view from this balcony. Especially at sunset. Especially alone. But in that moment she wondered if there were better views out there. Better skies. Different stars, different shades of night.
She'd wanted to write, an escape from the hole that had ripped jagged edges through the middle of her. But the words were stuck somewhere in between her heart and her hands. Lodged in her limbs like thick clots of disbelief.
The night sky of
fered no answers except to be the same. Her life woke up every day to the same horizon, the same pain, the same loneliness.
It had taken a few days for the truth to really sink in. It had all been an illusion. Just a temporary distraction from her reality. Her hasty engagement to Jeremiah should have been a huge red flag. Maybe that's why she'd embraced the hectic training and traveling schedule of horse racing so soon after her mom's death. She'd barely taken any time to really think about what life was going to look like now. And then the drama with her relatives that furthered her distraction. She should have paid better attention to those small moments of quiet desolation when they plagued her. Those little bits of truth peeking through her foggy perception. Because that's all reality was — personal perceptions. And perceptions were dangerous.
The most glaring evidence to her theory was her swift recovery after Jeremiah's breakup. If she had been in love, that should have killed her. It should have at least crippled her.
Like losing Red had done.
Her eyelids slowly closed, releasing the tears that were instant with any thought of Red's broken body on the Churchill track. She hated the last image she had of him and the mixed emotions that were connected to it. The adrenaline and sheer joy of watching him fly across the finish line, colliding violently with terror and desperation.
Swallowing the thickness in her throat, she set her laptop aside, picked up her glass of wine — a Cabernet — and walked to the balcony edge.
She wasn't going to ignore her mental need for bereavement this time.
She was going to allow herself the time it took to feel the loss.
Red was worth that. Her mom was worth that.
Her heart squeezed as her mind drifted to Jesse. She could only imagine what he was feeling. They'd parted ways soon after landing in Tampa. He had to get some things in order at the stable and she didn't have the ability to be on Zacherson property without a pass anymore.
But they were meeting for lunch tomorrow. Sandwiches at their spot.
She was anxious to see him.
***
The wind blew soft along her hairline and Jesse watched the blonde tresses tease the sunlight. Even crying she was beautiful.
Though she didn't know she was crying. It was always a shock to her when she wiped the wet from her cheeks. She'd stare down at the streaks in confusion and he would want even more for this life to be different.
He would want — not wish, or hope, or dream, because those words implied that they could happen within the right circumstances. No, he wanted, with the want for something unattainable. Something impossible, unrealistic. Fantastical. He wanted to be the one to wipe her tears, to stop her hurt, to hold her.
But he knew as clearly as he had known the day they met, she wasn't his. And she wasn't ever supposed to be.
Maybe it was the horseman in him. He had always had an innate sense for these things. He could know within minutes of working with an animal, or person, where they belonged. Whether they were going to be with him for a long while or a short one. It was just part of the details surrounding their time and his efforts.
One thing he had learned over and over again, everything is temporary if you give it enough time.
Unfortunately, life had decided that he was too weak to make that decision, so it had taken it from him.
He looked down at his sandwich, his appetite long gone. He hadn't been hungry in days. He had too much to do still, too much to take care of. And yet it felt like standing still.
“I have to tell you something.” His voice broke through their quiet moment and he felt the roughness of it pull through his insides.
Her body locked just noticeably and he knew that was his fault too. He'd taught her that he couldn't be trusted for the long haul.
She tossed her uneaten sandwich back into the cooler and tucked her hands under her legs. “What?” Her voice carried to him on the breeze, her eyes pointed to the open field.
“Initial tests in Louisville came back suspicious. It looks like a virus.”
Her head jerked, not expecting those words. She turned those probing brown eyes on him, trying to anticipate the rest. “A virus...?”
Jesse licked his lips and chucked his sandwich into the cooler as well. He locked eyes with her as the lid closed under his hand.
“The Kentucky Horse Racing Commission is going to conduct an investigation. So is The Florida Division of Pari-Mutual Wagering.”
She frowned deeply, shaking her head. “What's that even mean?”
Jesse sighed. “It means that Red's death was more than likely intentional, but they're going to investigate for neglect. A virus is scary because it can spread. Others could be carriers. Or incubators. Or test subjects...” He paused, trying to find the right way to say what needed to be said. “They're going to investigate the stable and everyone connected to it.”
She shook her head as if to protest, but he didn't give her a chance to speak.
“There's going to be a raid. Soon. Maybe even by the end of the day. The horses will be seized, tested. Everyone will be questioned. Some will be arrested.”
“Who?” Her voice vibrated with emotion and his eyes tangled with her water-logged ones. Unable to hold her gaze, he glanced to the dirt below them. “Who, Jesse? Who gets arrested?”
“Probably me and George.”
“That's not — !” Her hands balled into fists on her lap and the vibration in her voice spread into a tremble that wracked her body. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It did nothing to calm her down. “That doesn't make any sense!”
“It does.” Jesse cleared his throat. “It might not happen at all. I'm just — ” He ran a hand through his hair. “I'm just going off what happened last time. And the odds, frankly.”
Ryan jumped off of the tailgate and stood before him. “No! We fight it! I'll talk to Kelly and — ”
“No, Ryan,” Jesse stopped her. “Don't you see? You have to stay away. You and I can't be seen together anymore. They're going to want to question you the way it is. The only way to protect you from this is to keep you out of it!”
“No!” she shouted. “I can't lose you, too!”
That's when the tears hit Jesse's eyes. He jumped off the tailgate, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breath as he tried to maintain his control. He grabbed her shoulders carefully.
“This is the way it is,” he rasped through his emotion. “While I hate Caleb and his methods, I can't argue with their effectiveness.”
Her head jerked back, confusion clouding her eyes. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He sent you away because whatever Dennis is into was going to hit us no matter what. And he wasn't going to risk you getting caught in it.”
“This was Dennis?” she asked, understanding dawning. Her voice dropped to a rage filled whisper. “They take everything from me.”
Jesse was inclined to agree. If her family didn't have their greedy fingers in absolutely every area of her life, things would look very different for her.
“I made a deal with Caleb,” he pressed forward. “A new one. I'll take the fall for this if they can't trace it back to Dennis.”
“But you didn't do anything wrong! You could lose everything!”
He nodded, knowing far better what he would lose than she did. “But if it touches you, if this ends up following you at all, deal's off.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying this is it. You'll be free from this and the caveat is that we no longer see each other. Not as friends, not as anything. It would raise too many suspicions and make it that much harder to keep you safe and clean.”
Ryan pulled out of his grasp and staggered backwards a few steps. Her legs gave way to her emotional reeling and she sank to the ground. Her dark eyes looked up at him with such pain and so lost, it slashed right through the middle of him.
“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked, shrugging meekly.
Jesse sat d
own beside her. She rested her head against his shoulder and he slid one arm around her waist, holding her for what he knew was going to be the last time.
“Honestly?” he began. “This is an opportunity for you to start any life you want. You can leave here. See the world. Have an adventure. Anything.”
“What good is an adventure without someone to share it with?”
That was a good question, Jesse reasoned. Though he didn't have an answer for her.
***
The raid happened, as Jesse predicted.
That night, the Florida Gaming Commission seized all of the horses under Jesse Hart's care.
Jesse and George were arrested on suspicion of animal abuse.
twenty-six
“Do not be afraid of how you feel.”
June
Rafe Trudeau squinted against the sunlight as he closed the door to his rental with a satisfying “thunk.”
So, this was Florida.
For some reason, he'd always pictured Florida as one big “spring break” catastrophe — drunk co-eds, loud music, far too much sand.
But this was neither “beachy” nor “co-edy.” It actually wasn't too different from the lush Kentucky stables that he was used to visiting in his regular nine to five. Maybe more humidity.
And the traffic was a bitch getting over here.
“Mr. Trudeau.”
Rafe's eyes continued to take in his surroundings behind his dark sunglasses even as he extended a hand towards the businessman approaching him.
“Caleb Zacherson,” the man introduced. “Your office called ahead and said you were coming.”
Of course they did, Rafe cursed silently even as he nodded cordially. When would they listen to his request of catching an owner just a little off-guard? Though there was procedure, and God forbid anyone break procedure. He was already pushing it by coming all the way to Florida in the first place. This was a little out of the normal. Even for him.
They shook hands and Caleb gestured for Rafe to fall in step with him as they headed up the gravel drive towards the impressive stables.
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