Risky Chance

by Alison Hart

  “Chance!” The boy suddenly rushed toward me. The cap fell off his head, and curls tumbled to his shoulders.

  It wasn’t a boy; it was Marie! She threw herself against me, her arms circling my neck.

  “What in thunder are you doing to my horse, boy?” Gruff Owner snapped.

  “I’m not a boy,” Marie declared. “And this isn’t your horse. It’s ours. So please, sir, will you take off your halter so I can put on mine?”

  By now the man with the sticks had hobbled toward us. He moved as slow and stiff as I did. When he drew beside me, I realized it was Wolf.

  I greeted him with snorts of delight.

  Marie hugged me again. “You’re mine now, Chance. Father and I claimed you.” Tears dotted her eyes as she ran her fingers gently over my welts. “No one will ever whip you again.”

  I heard her words, but only when she took off Gruff Owner’s leather halter and slipped a rope one over my nose did I realize what they meant.

  I was going home with Marie.

  A New Owner

  “Horse is all yours,” Gruff Owner said to Wolf. “Too bad he’s washed up.”

  Wolf’s eyes didn’t glow like Marie’s, and there was worry in his voice when he said, “Believe me, sir, I know he’s dead lame. But my daughter is convinced he’ll be the next winner of the Santa Anita Handicap.”

  “Ha-ha!” Gruff Owner laughed so hard that smoke blew from his nose. Taking his halter, he hurried away. I was glad to see the last of him.

  “Chance is not washed up,” Marie said as she led me from the track. “You wait and see, Father.”

  Wolf shook his head. He walked slowly beside us, swinging those sticks. “I hope you’re right, sweetheart, since it took the last of our savings to claim him.”

  Stopping, I nudged Wolf with my nose. I wanted to tell him how happy I was to see him and Marie. The nudge knocked one of the sticks, and he lost his balance and toppled to the ground.

  “Father!” Marie kneeled to help him up, but he swatted her away.

  “I’m fine. Take the horse to our gear. We need to wrap those legs before the walk home.”

  Marie was quiet as we made our way to the backside. I flicked my ears, wondering which barn I would go to this time. Would I be back with Tall Man’s stakes horses? Would my new stall have deep straw and sweet hay?

  Marie steered me behind the last shed row. There she pulled a sack from behind a scraggly bush.

  Taking a rag from the sack, she wiped my sweaty saddle mark. Then she rubbed me all over, and my muscles felt less tight and achy. Once I butted her to say thank you, and she stroked my neck. But there was no noisy chatter like the old Marie.

  She had changed. It was more than the boy’s cap and overalls. She was serious and silent compared to the magpie she’d once been.

  Marie was almost finished wrapping my legs when Wolf finally hobbled around the corner of the barn. His face was pale, and he was breathing as hard as if he’d run a race.

  “You need to rest, Father,” Marie scolded. “We have a long walk home.”

  He sank against the back wall of the barn. “I’ll be all right. Bill Steers offered to drive me.”

  Marie humphed. “You mean Bill, who, like all your jockey friends, never bothered to visit you in the hospital. That Bill?”

  “Don’t blame the other jockeys. They didn’t want to see me busted up. They didn’t want to be reminded that they could be lying in that bed, their careers done for.”

  I lifted my head. There was that term again.

  “I’ll only go with Bill if you’ll be all right on your own,” Wolf added.

  Marie patted me, and I laid my muzzle against her shoulder. Her wraps and bandages were not too loose, not too tight. I put more weight on my right leg, testing it. It still felt sore, but so much better that I breathed a sigh.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll be with Chance,” Marie told him.

  Wolf swung his gaze to me. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Mother and I were on our own almost a year while you mended,” she said, sounding like a grown-up. “And I was fine when we had to sell everything to pay the hospital bills. Walking home is easy.”

  Wolf shook his head. “I don’t mean about that. I mean I hope you’re right about Chance. He looks almost as broken as me.”

  “You’re not broken.” Marie’s eyes snapped. “And Chance is only broken because all his owners cared about was money. They never cared about him. Have you forgotten what you said when you two were winning every race? You said, ‘That horse has more heart than any I’ve ever ridden.’ We just need to help him find that heart again.”

  “I’m glad you’re sure, Marie.” Wolf smiled faintly. “I’ll watch for you when I get home. Don’t forget to bring the rucksack.” Leaning again on his sticks, he headed off.

  Bending, Marie loaded the sack and swung it over her shoulder. We headed down the dirt lane that wound past the barns. The sun was setting, casting a red glow on the backside. We passed horses being bathed and hot-walked and grooms cleaning saddles and bridles.

  I was used to these sights. But when Marie led me to a gate that opened onto a wide road, I planted my hooves, not budging. Outside the gate, there were no green fields, no barns, no dirt tracks, no grooms, and no horses.

  Trucks roared past, barely missing us. It was as noisy as if a race were being run, but I didn’t hear music or “They’re off!”

  “It’s a big world outside the track, Chance,” Marie said. “You’ll have plenty of time to get used to it. Right now we need to get home before dark.” I felt a shiver run through her. “People are so poor and desperate these days that it’s not safe to be out alone.”

  Lifting one foot, I set it on the black road. My iron shoe clanked on the hard surface. Slowly, we made our way along the roadside. Trucks and cars rumbled past. A horn honked, and I jumped nervously. Finally we turned onto a quieter dirt road. We passed a field, but I couldn’t see any grass, fences, or horses. Instead it was crowded with people.

  “That’s a Hooverville,” Marie said. “Families live there in shacks, tents, or under the stars because they have no jobs and no money.”

  As we walked past, a herd of raggedy children ran up to me. They pulled at my tail and darted in to pat my side. “Can I ride? Can I ride?” some shouted. Others begged, “Can you spare a penny, miss? Please, a penny?”

  Nervous, I scooted closer to Marie, who shooed them away with her hand. When we made it past the Hooverville, she said, “Times are tough for everyone, Chance. At least my family still has a home.” She tipped her chin up to look at me. “Just don’t expect a stall like the one you had at Santa Anita.”

  Dusk had fallen by the time Marie steered me down a grassy lane. It wound between olive trees, ending at a tiny house. I was so tired, my head was dragging.

  Wolf met us, and without a word, the three of us walked around the house to the back. There was no fancy barn, no white board fences, no fields, no grooms, and no mares or foals grazing on a hill.

  Marie led me into a tiny paddock under towering trees. In one corner were fresh hay and a bucket of cool water. Another corner was bedded with soft straw.

  “I know it’s not much. When we get the money, we’re going to build a shed,” Marie said as she unclipped the rope. I ambled to the hay and ate a few bites. Then I drank deeply. Weary, I folded my legs and plopped in the straw. Marie lay next to me and leaned against my side.

  Fresh air ruffled her hair and my mane. Stars twinkled overhead through the leaves. Silently, Wolf watched us from where he leaned on the top fence board.

  I heaved an exhausted but grateful sigh.

  I was home.

  April 1939

  The dry hillside rose in front of me. Snapping my legs, I trotted to the top, where it flattened. There were few trees, and no holes and rocks.

  Hunching low on my neck, Marie gave me my head. “Show me what you’ve got, Chance,” she whispered.

  I stretched into a gallop. Fast
er. Faster. The air beat against my face. Rocks shot from under my hooves. Balanced on my back, Marie was as light as a fallen leaf. Run. Run. This was the first time I’d galloped since my last race. Happiness filled me. I could have run forever.

  Too soon Marie eased me to a trot. I heard her whoop like a child. “We won, Chance!”

  Later we walked down the hill, cooling off. For three months, Marie had been riding me in the hills behind our home. We started off walking, then trotting. When my bow was fully healed, she’d started cantering me. Today, galloping in the warm spring weather, I’d barely broken a sweat.

  “You’re almost ready, Chance. I can feel it. It’s like there’s a motor roaring inside you. Like Father’s car—the one we had to sell to claim you,” Marie said, once again chattering like a magpie.

  The wind swirled in the treetops, and I pranced sideways. I was ready to take off up another hill.

  “You’ll be ready in several weeks,” Marie went on. Her hands were light on the reins when she steered me back to the path. Unlike a lot of other riders, she never kicked or tugged or whipped.

  “I’d love to be your jockey, but I’m a girl.” She blew out a breath. “Oh, I can work after school with Mother sewing doll clothes. And I can wrap your legs and clean your stall and exercise you. But girls aren’t allowed to ride on the track.

  “That means we need to find someone who will help you win your first race.” Marie patted my neck. “Not the hundred-grander at Santa Anita. Father says the entry fee is too rich. But we’ll find the perfect race and the perfect jockey.”

  We reached the dirt lane that led home. Behind me, a horn blasted. I leaped to the roadside. A line of trucks drove past. They rattled and spewed dust in the air. The truck beds were heaped as high as a mountain. Chair legs stuck in the air. A woman with a baby was perched atop a mattress. Children were wedged between tables and quilts. No one waved as the trucks passed, as if all were too tired.

  “Okies,” Marie said. “Come from Oklahoma to California to find work. Most travel from farm to farm. They have no home.”

  I spotted our house through the trees. Lifting my head, I whinnied. Nanny Goat bleated back. She shared the small paddock. I was glad that I had a home, but sometimes I was lonely for another horse like Dappled Filly to talk to.

  Wolf waved from where he stood by the gate. He still limped, but he no longer had to use the sticks. “How’d he do?”

  “Six furlongs in one minute and twelve and a half seconds.”

  For a second, Wolf stared at his daughter as if not believing how fast I had gone.

  “I’m teasing, Father,” she said as she dismounted. Bending, she felt my right leg. “Cool and tight. He’ll be ready to race in several weeks.”

  Wolf’s face grew stiff. “I’ve entered him in a race for this Saturday, Marie.”

  “That’s too soon!” She straightened so fast, she startled me.

  “It’s a four-thousand-dollar purse. That’s more than I make at the factory in a year.”

  Marie propped her fists on her hips. “Chance isn’t ready.”

  “I have no choice.” Wolf blew out a breath. “Feeding him has been expensive. He needs to earn his keep. You said his leg is cool and tight, right?”

  Marie continued to glare at her father.

  “I’m sorry, Marie. The truth is we’re broke. I spent our last money on the entry fee. We need this win or we lose everything. Tomorrow I’ll go to Tanforan and check out the bug boys. We’ll find a good jockey.”

  Frowning, Marie let her arms drop. “We’ll all go to the track. You, me, and Chance. If he’s gotta race this soon, he needs to help us pick his jockey.”

  “I know it would be better to wait.” Wolf put his hand on Marie’s shoulder. “But times are tough. With the purse money we can pay bills and maybe start building our barn.”

  “And we can claim another cheap horse,” Marie suggested. “It’ll be the start of our own stable. When Chance wins, people will see that you’re more than a jockey whose career ended in an accident. You’re a great trainer, too.”

  Wolf smiled. “You’re the trainer, Marie. You took Chance from broken down to tip-top. Let’s hope he wins Saturday. It’s our only chance to keep going.”

  “Oh, he’ll win,” Marie said confidently. Turning, she ran her hand lightly down my neck. “He will.”

  The next day, Marie rode me to the racetrack. Wolf met us there.

  We huddled on the outside railing, watching the morning workouts. My ears flipped as I took it all in. It had been ages since I’d galloped on the track, and my heart longed to be out there with the other horses.

  “What do you think of the boy exercising the bay?” Wolf asked Marie. “He’s a strong rider.”

  She quickly shook her head. “Too strong for Chance. See how the horse resists him?”

  “How about the one on the gray filly?” He pointed to a horse galloping past.

  I lifted my head to look, too. Instantly, I recognized Dappled Filly. She was more alert than the last time I’d seen her, but I saw sadness in her eyes.

  “The horse looks like she’s been pushed too hard,” Wolf went on. “But the boy seems to be getting a decent ride out of her.”

  “You’re right,” Marie agreed. “I like the way he’s talking to her. Chance?” She gazed up at me. “What do you think? Should we meet him?”

  Just then, I heard humming behind me. I turned so quickly I tore the reins from Marie’s grasp.

  Lanny! Blowing excitedly, I pushed him with my nose. He laughed and ruffled my forelock. “I believe the horse hasn’t forgotten me.”

  Marie gave Lanny a hug, and Wolf shook his hand. All three were grinning. “None of us could forget you,” Marie said.

  “What are you doing at Tanforan?” Wolf asked him.

  Lanny tipped his head. His hair was as gray as mine. “When Chance left, something in me left, too,” he said. “I couldn’t bear to work with another great horse just to see him claimed or sold ’cause the owner was greedy. So I quit.”

  “You’re too talented a trainer to quit,” Marie said. “But I understand. The only good thing about Davidson getting rid of Chance was that we claimed him.”

  Lanny grinned. “I heard. Any chance you’ll be running him again? I’ve got money saved up for a bet.” He rubbed under my mane just like he used to, and I wiggled my top lip.

  “He’s entered in the fifth race on Saturday,” Wolf said.

  “We’re picking out a jockey now,” Marie said. “Do you know anything about that exercise boy?” She pointed to Dappled Filly’s rider.

  “That’s Blink. The boy’s so skinny, if you blink you might miss him. He’s an Okie. Started riding in the bush leagues. Has a gift with horses, just like you, Wolf. He’s a bug boy for Winston, who hasn’t noticed yet how good he is. You might be able to get him to ride one race for you.”

  “Let’s go talk to him,” Wolf said.

  We hurried to the backside. I tugged on the reins, eager to see Dappled Filly.

  Blink had dismounted and was taking off the saddle when we came up. I greeted Dappled Filly with excited whinnies. “Why, these two horses must know each other,” Blink said. He patted me, and I liked that he didn’t jerk Dappled Filly away.

  She was glad to see me, I knew, because she greeted me with whiffles of delight. “Dreams was foaled at Davidson’s farm,” Lanny explained. “Same as Chance. They used to race up and down the fence.”

  “Were you and Sweet Dreams friends, Chance?” Marie asked. “She sure is beautiful. At least she was. Based on the knots and splints in her legs, I’d say she’s been run to death.” Holding the cheek pieces of the bridle, she stared into Dappled Filly’s eyes. “I’m sorry no one has loved you, Dreams.”

  Marie went back to talking with the others, and I laid my head over Dappled Filly’s withers. She rotated one ear as if wanting to say hi, but then seemed to sag with exhaustion.

  “What do we have here?” a voice boomed. A huge man, his
buttons popping on his vest, strode toward us. Eyes squinted, he walked around me. Marie hurried over and placed a hand on my neck.

  “I’d bet a day’s wages this is Risky Chance,” Huge Man declared. “Winner of eight straight stakes races at Santa Anita. I thought he’d been shipped to the packing plant.”

  Marie’s face turned bright red. “He was not! He’s fit and ready to win again Saturday.”

  “Marie, meet Mr. Winston, Blink’s boss,” Wolf said. “He’s owner of the best stable of horses at Tanforan.”

  Huge Man didn’t even glance at Marie, Lanny, or Blink. “And I aim to keep it that way. What race is Chance entered in?” he asked Wolf.

  “The fifth.”

  “I got a colt entered in that race. Kingsman.” He stepped close to Wolf. Raising one hand, he poked Wolf so hard in the chest that he staggered backward. Lanny caught Wolf to keep him from falling. I laid my ears back, not liking the way Huge Man treated Wolf.

  “There’s no way a has-been like Chance will beat Kingsman. No way,” Huge Man said, his eyes mean. “I’ll make sure of it. Now leave my stables,” he added before striding off.

  “I believe that was a threat,” Lanny said. “You best keep your eyes on Chance night and day.”

  Wolf nodded. His face was pasty white. “Well, Blink,” he said, “I gather that means you won’t be able to ride for us.”

  Blink threw an ugly look at Huge Man’s departing back. “I’d be proud to ride Chance,” he said. “Winston don’t have a contract on me.”

  Wolf placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure? Could mean trouble.”

  Blink snorted. “I’m an Okie. My family lost everything in the dust bowl. This here ain’t trouble.”

  Marie gave me a smile and a pat. “Well, Chance, looks like we’ve got you a jockey.” I bobbed my head, glad to see Huge Man gone and Marie smiling again.

  “And a heap of a lot of misery, too,” Wolf said. He rubbed his leg as if it pained him. “I’m afraid Mr. Winston will be gunning for Blink and Chance in the race.”

  “Let him.” Marie tipped up her chin. “Chance will win, no matter the odds.”