North Oak 1- Born to Run

by Ann Hunter

  Amber crouched beside him, drawing him close to her over the side of the recliner. She rubbed his back as he let silent tears roll. "At least you still have Venus Galaxies. You and Angie still have a legacy."

  Steven pulled himself together, drawing his wife to a spot beside him in the armchair. She snuggled close. Amber took the remote from him and shut the T.V. off.

  He drew a deep breath. "I can't tell you how long I sat beside Alexandra's bed in the hospital staring at her file. I still can't believe who she is."

  "Have you sent off the DNA test?"

  "I got it back before she woke up."

  Amber tangled her fingers in her husband's graying hair gently. "What did it say?"

  His eyes lifted to hers. "Angelina was supposed to inherit the farm. Any child she had has a right to North Oak, but when she passed, it shifted into our hands. We can't let that change."

  "And you intend to keep the girl here?"

  Steven's jaw tensed.

  Amber sat up and looked him straight on. "That's a dangerous game, sweetheart."

  He shifted uncomfortably, fixing his eyes on the blank television. "I want my family together, but the farm is mine."

  "Steven, you can't have the cake and eat it too. It's all going to come out eventually."

  Steven got out of the chair, his wife's eyes still boring into him. He grabbed a brownie from the plate she had brought, broke it in two, bit one, and stuffed the other in his wife's mouth.

  He braced himself on the arms of the recliner where Amber sat, and chewed, then left a brownie crumb freckled kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight."

  Brooke proved an adept tutor for Alex, and aside from saddle upkeep, Alex picked up basics effortlessly. She was surprised how easy it was to her, like breathing. But the work was hard and made her sore and tired.

  Alex would get up at dawn to help Brooke with Venus Galaxies, and spent the evenings with Brooke on basic horsemanship: leading horses to and from the paddocks, even teaching Promenade to lead and tie. All the while pretending not to fall in love with it, fighting the detestable urge to stay. She started working with the regular grooms during the day who taught her the finer points of maintaining tack and mucking out stalls.

  As she showered one night, being careful not to take too long (just like she had been taught at Haven), she wondered if this pain was worth it. Then Promenade and the way he looked at her haughtily, his eye whites almost blending in with his blaze, struck her. She pushed the image from her mind, reprimanding herself, Don't get attached.

  But then Venus Galaxies charging through the mist invaded her thoughts. The Breeders Cup was only a few days away. I'll go with them. She wasn't sure how far away the race was, but ditching them in a crowd might be a good place for finally breaking away.

  I'll help them get the dumb horse ready, but that's it.

  As the race got even closer, Alex picked up on the tension and excitement around the farm. With several of North Oak's horses entered during the two-day event, grooms argued whose charge was the best of the lot.

  The workers bickered and laughed, regaling each other with legends of great racers past. Alex learned all the stories, and day dreams of riding the fleetest, threatened to sway her forever. She could almost taste the dirt from the track and the sting of air whipping against her face.

  Thursday morning Hillary announced she was taking the girls dress shopping for the high-profile event. She even invited Brooke, much to the gratitude of Joe who refused to be knowledgeable of womanly things outside of training fillies.

  Laura lit up with delight and gushed on and on about the ensemble she wanted, right down to the stitch in the fabric. Alex couldn't have been less enthused.

  I don't know if there's a word for how much I hate dresses.

  The very concept was entirely degrading to her. The only time she'd been forced to wear something so obscene was at Easter and Christmas Mass, which she had also never enjoyed—mostly because of the uncomfortable dress. She hoped the experience wouldn't be too terribly painful.

  She went along quietly that evening, rolling her eyes at Laura's obsessive over-enthusiasm. Brooke hung back a little as well, but humored Laura more so than Alex did.

  Alex couldn't tell the difference between all the dresses, besides the price tag. This one was blue. That one was black. The other one was green. All of them are dumb.

  Before money could become an issue, Alex took off to find the least expensive one. She hated being a burden like this, but took it over to Hillary for inspection.

  "Did you try it on?" the woman asked Alex.

  Alex's shoulders slumped and she groaned, eyes rolling back. "Uuuugghh."

  "I would like to see it on the teenage cavegirl, please. No sense in buying it if it doesn't fit."

  Alex dragged her butt to a changing room and grappled herself into the damn thing, muttering a string of cuss words under her breath as she tried to zip up the dress.

  She huffed and stood before the mirror. But did not recognize the girl gazing back.

  The dress hung from gaunt shoulders. Alex ran her hand through her hair, moving her bangs out of her face. Shadows circled beneath baggy eyelids, and in too-thin cheeks. The nightmares looked like they were catching up with her. Laying awake at night the last few days, trying to avoid the nightmares, was taking its toll.

  Alex pulled the dress off her haggard body and put her regular clothes back on. She gave the rumpled dress to Hillary, grunting, "It fits."

  The woman smiled with approval and commended Alex on her good taste. Alex had no idea what she was talking about. It was just a dumb, understated, inexpensive dress.

  Brooke didn't take long either, picking out something simple and stylish to compliment her long, thin frame. Laura, however, took another hour, gushing over accessories alone. Brooke and Alex sat on a small sofa, staring tiredly at themselves in full-length mirrors.

  "This is ridonkulous," Alex muttered.

  Brooke watched Laura dash about the store and chuckled. "Apparently this behavior is normal and encouraged among girls our age."

  "Still ridonkulous," Alex repeated. "Can we go now?" she called to Hillary.

  Hillary, appearing rather dog-tired herself, pressed Laura to wrap up her endeavors. Suddenly the blonde teenager got an even more maddening glint in her eye and charged through the store. She returned with her ensemble in less than ten minutes.

  Hillary summoned the girls to the cash register.

  "Why, exactly, couldn't you have done that in the first place?" Alex whispered to Laura.

  "You'll understand when you're older."

  Alex looked at Brooke who had an expression on her face that confirmed exactly what Alex suspected. They both shook their heads.

  Alex would never understand this thing called shopping.

  Brooke and Alex left North Oak absurdly early for the Breeders Cup to make the morning workouts at Churchill Downs in time. The five-hour drive from Hamlin to Louisville didn't afford them much rest since the girls all rode together with the Showmans and were too excited to sleep. Even Alex had a hard time hiding her true feelings.

  Alex and Brooke worked side-by-side, wordlessly. They had arrived at Churchill Downs's track backside to help the horses prepare for the day's races.

  Venus Galaxies had just come in from a light jog, and the girls were tending to her. She had already gotten a good bath and been blanketed and was lazily standing as Brooke and Alex wove her silky onyx mane into tight, braided knobs, and banded them. She was starting to look really sharp.

  As Alex finished the last few braids the way Brooke had shown her, Brooke stood back to admire their handiwork.

  "Angie was very attached to this mare. Venus was her favorite. Angie rode Venus Galaxies's sire, Jet, in the Triple Crown and won. Jet was the last horse to win the Triple Crown for North Oak. It's been more than a decade."

  "That's a long time."

  Brooke nodded. "Because she was special to Angelina, Mr. North has a lot riding
on this filly, especially since it's her last race. North wants to breed her next spring."

  "How did she die?"

  "Car accident."

  Alex was quiet as she bundled up the final braid.

  "That's why Venus means so much to him. Because, to Mr. North, Venus Galaxies is really Angelina."

  Alex led the filly to her stall and patted her in passing. It was sobering to know what the horse meant to North Oak.

  Brooke motioned to the track kitchen, inviting Alex to join her for breakfast.

  Alex closed the door to Venus's stall. "See you later, little sister."

  During breakfast, Brooke mulled over the racing form and taught Alex how to, too. It was more numbers than words, so Alex didn't have time to be embarrassed about the fact she couldn't read very well. However, numbers weren't exactly a strong point either and soon had her head reeling.

  After they wolfed down scrambled eggs and sausage links, they went back to the hotel to get some shut eye.

  When she got to the room, Alex kicked off her shoes and flopped on the bed, passing out despite Laura's snoring in the bed opposite hers. But sleep did not tread kindly. It brought with it what Alex tried to forget….

  Her hand trembling on the gun, a thread of smoke wafting from the barrel. Staring at the lifeless woman who had fallen before her. Who had meant to hurt Alex's friends. The gun tumbling to the floor.

  Carrie's words echoed, "Alex what have you done?"

  The room spinning. Ashley lying near Carrie's feet. Was there no way out?

  Alex had to get away. She had to run to stay alive. She'd seen stories on the news and heard what happened to people who committed murder. DeGelder had said as much.

  The chair. Lethal injection. Death. An eye for an eye.

  Alex staggered. I don't want to die.

  Early morning light streamed into the window behind her. She dashed for it, threw it open, and leapt.

  Alex woke in the hotel, trembling. The pillows and comforter were in disarray. Laura was missing from her bed. The shower ran in the bathroom.

  Alex raced to the wastebasket in the corner and vomited. She rocked back on her heels and stared up at the bland wallpaper that lent little charm to the room.

  She wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, frowning. As if reliving those deaths didn't already leave a bitter taste in her mouth! She squeezed her eyes closed tight, mentally retracing her steps the last few moments before Ashley died.

  She wished she could purge the memory as easily as her stomach. She wished it had never happened. This is my fault. Why wasn't I there to protect her? She punched the wall. I can't… I can't live with myself.

  The weight of Ashley's body in her arms made Alex's belly boil. She gagged and heaved, but nothing came out. False alarm.

  Alex straightened and turned, pounding on the bathroom door. "Are you done in there yet?"

  "Almost," Laura answered.

  Alex folded her arms and leaned against the wall, waiting. A few minutes passed. "How 'bout now?"

  "Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses."

  The sink turned on. The door cracked open, and Laura, in a bathrobe with her hair in a towel turban, was brushing her teeth. She hadn't bothered to wipe down the steamy mirrors.

  "Honestly, I don't know why it takes you so long," Alex chided.

  Laura spat and rinsed and stepped out of the bathroom. "You were making a lot of noise. Everything okay?"

  "Fine," Alex muttered, "move."

  "Uh-uh." Laura wagged her finger. "Manners, please."

  Alex's eyes narrowed. "Get your upper-middle-class butt out of my frickin' way, you prissy blonde bimbo… please."

  Laura sighed and moved, allowing Alex into the bathroom. "My room's next to yours at home. I can hear you at night. Want to tell me why you've been having so many nightmares?"

  "You know it should only take a person five minutes to shower?" Alex ignored the question.

  "And who's Ashley?"

  Alex gritted her teeth. "How do you know that name?"

  "You talk in your sleep… loudly. Who's Ashley?"

  Alex slammed the door.

  She undressed, then turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and let it beat against her back, but it didn't make her feel any more alive.

  I'm numb.

  And I rage.

  I'm alone.

  If Laura knew about the nightmares, it wouldn't be long before everyone else did, too. The truth would come out. It was inevitable if she stayed at North Oak. She would have to run away at the races today like she planned.

  I'm out of time, and I'm out of options.

  The early November air was brisk, but the sky was blue and sunny. It was beautiful weather in Louisville, Kentucky. The track, grandstand, and surrounding facilities were all immaculately clean and festive, dotted with the royal purple and white banners of the prestigious Breeders Cup.

  Alex had never seen so many people in one place before. Her skin crawled as she bumped awkwardly into others. She clutched the sides of her dress to keep her hands from shaking. Dignitaries, royalty, and ambassadors from all over the world had flocked to the rich races.

  All wanted eternal glory.

  Along with most of North Oak's clan, Alex got sucked into the luxurious clubhouse suite Mr. North had rented for the weekend. While she was relieved to get away from the swarm of bodies near the track, she felt completely out of place. Everyone was dressed beautifully.

  Despite being approached by Brooke, Alex had little desire to mingle with anyone. Worst of all, gifts from Mr. North kept finding their way to her: t-shirts, movies, commemorative glasses all piled up on the small end table by her chair. It was sickening. She thought she might vomit again.

  When she gave Mr. North a sour look, he merely grinned and winked at her. Alex leaned over to Hillary and quietly made the excuse that she would rather watch Venus Galaxies's race from the track rail.

  This was her moment to escape.

  Alex pushed through the thick swamp of people, skimming through them near the track's outside rail. She couldn't decide if the crowd was worse than the suite.

  Workers in tractors harrowed the dirt prior to Venus Galaxies's race. The Distaff was the richest race on the card that day, just as the Classic was the highlight of tomorrow's races. The Distaff purse, set at $2,000,000, was more money than Alex could ever fathom.

  As she tried to disappear in the crowd, trumpets blared the call to post and Thoroughbreds streamed on to the track. Alex paused, unable to avoid looking for Venus Galaxies. The view was too perfect from where she stood not to.

  As the horses began to pass, Alex found herself humming to the musical jingle jangle of bit and bridle, as though it had gotten under her skin. The mares had an almost ethereal quality as they seemed to float over the track rather than trot or canter. Their snorts and huffs of excitable, fleeting breath left Alex breathless herself. The glint of sun on iron and silk and leather emanated a kind of warmth and life.

  Alex heard a higher calling when a solitary gaze from Venus Galaxies picked her out from the entire crowd and bored through her. It reaffirmed that she did have a place in this world. It was here in the soil, here in the roar of the crowd, here at Churchill Downs.

  The call of racing bellowed at her, making her feel as though her soul would burst. She shut her eyes and fantasized what it would feel like to be perched over the gleaming withers of a champion.

  She almost felt electric energy flow through imaginary reins in her hands. Equine muscle coiled below her, ready to give everything at her very word while a million voices screamed her name from the grandstand with no less fervor than a rockstar.

  Forever free on the back of a Thoroughbred.

  Her eyes fluttered open in the sunshine, a stupid little drunken smile on her mouth. The horses loaded into the starting gate at the other side of the track. Alex trained her sight on the red and silver silks of North Oak. Venus Galaxies loaded with little resistance just as Brooke joined A
lex at the rail.

  "Ha! I won a hundred bucks on an exacta in the last race. I'm totally hiding it when we get home so Pop can't spend it on whiskey." Brooke sighed happily. "I love being tall. They never ask me for ID."

  Alex peered at her from the corners of her eyes. How do these people keep finding me? She grimaced, angry that she had let herself get distracted from her plan. I'm supposed to be running away, dammit.

  Brooke looked back at her, obviously trying to read her expression. "We've done all we can do," she said solemnly, "it's in the Lord's hands now."

  Alex grimaced, turning her attention back to the starting gate. Last she checked, it was in the hands of the small man holding Venus Galaxies's reins, whom Alex absolutely envied right now.

  Running away would be so much easier if I had a fast horse.

  Finally the last mare loaded. The crowd quieted. A moment of silence. The starting gate bell clamored and eight of the world's best fillies and mares surged forward.

  "And they're off!" the announcer chimed. "Off to an early lead is Air Guitar, followed closely by Soda Pop and Flag Flier. Three lengths back is Mad Money and Venus Galaxies with Stella's Desire in hot pursuit. Bringing up the rear is Debbie Do Be True, and Goodnight Sweetart trails. Setting quick fractions as they pass the quarter pole, Air Guitar continues to lead. Soda Pop is starting to put on a little pressure and Venus Galaxies is moving up to close the gap for third. Half a mile to go and these girls are blazing now. Air Guitar is fighting to maintain her lead, but here comes Venus Galaxies with a powerhouse move!"

  The mares were heading into the turn for home, and Alex felt the excitement building. "C'mon. C'mon, lil sis, c'mon…"

  "Venus Galaxies takes the lead at the top of the stretch with Soda Pop fighting back tenaciously."

  "Come on, Venus!" Brooke yelled.

  "Soda Pop isn't quitting. Venus Galaxies is digging down deep with a furlong to go."

  Alex heard them getting closer, even over the din of the crowd. The pop of whips, the locomotive, rhythmic breathing of the mares, jockeys hollering and asking their courageous mounts to lay it all on the line here and now.