by James, Sandy
An oval track extended behind Katie’s barn. The surface was smaller than the racetrack at Dan Patch Raceway, although still impressive. A second barn the same dimensions as Katie’s stood on the opposite side of the practice track, and all around were dozens of fenced areas full of horses. “You own all of this?”
Katie laughed. “God, don’t I wish! I’d give my right arm for my own farm. I rent some stalls and my room from the owner of the place.”
They hopped out of the truck, and Katie began to teach Seth his first task—how to move the outside horses back into the barn. When she explained the halter and lead rope and the mechanics of the chore, he figured it was as simple as leading a dog on a leash. Then Katie let him lead his first horse.
She slipped into a corral and whistled at the large brown horse. The animal came right to her. After she attached the green lead rope to his halter, she motioned for Seth to join her. After she gave him several tips that he didn’t pay much attention to, Katie let him try on his own.
Seth attempted to lead the horse the short distance from the corral to the barn, but the horse ended up dragging him instead. He tried talking to the horse and jerking on the lead rope. He even went so far as to put his body in front of the contrary animal, but the horse didn’t stop until it reached a large patch of untouched grass running alongside the barn where it dropped its head and began to graze.
Seth figured watching him struggle with the horse had to be highly entertaining to Katie. After a few frustrating minutes of losing the wrestling match with the horse, he was grateful when she took pity on him. She marched over and took the rope out of his hands.
“Watch,” she ordered like a drill sergeant. Seth couldn’t tell if she was scolding him or the animal. Katie took the lead rope and gave a sharp tug to get the animal’s attention. Once the horse raised its head from the grass it had been munching, she gave the rope another quick snap and led the now compliant animal to the barn.
“I’ll be damned,” Seth said, putting his hands on his hips. “How’d you do that?”
“Horses are smart. They can tell when you’re afraid of them. I’m not. They respect me ’cause I let them know who’s in charge. Don’t feel bad, you did fine for a first time.”
From the conciliatory smile on her face, he knew he looked as frustrated as he felt. He appreciated her care in trying to suppress her amusement so it didn’t appear she was laughing at him, even if she had every right to do so.
“Yeah, right,” he mumbled, following her into the barn.
“Be patient, Seth. It takes time to get the hang of things.”
Chapter 6
Seth’s morning flew by in a whirl of activity. Chris had awakened him at a ridiculously early hour, and they’d grabbed a quick breakfast in the track kitchen before heading to Katie’s farm. From the moment they arrived, she had rattled off instructions, and Seth felt like he’d spent most of his time in perpetual motion. He’d tried to follow Katie and Chris as they exercised the horses, turned several out to pasture, and prepared two horses for qualifying races, but he found himself constantly in the way.
As Katie worked with one of the horses, she’d identified each piece of tack and made Seth repeat it back like a parrot. Just about the time he was getting the names correct, Chris came into the barn, leading another horse with a completely different set of harness. Seth frowned. What the hell was all this stuff? He’d never felt so ignorant in his life.
They’d fed the horses in the barn, and set out for Dan Patch Raceway.
Katie pulled her truck to a stop beside the guard shack at the back entrance and rolled down her window. Reaching over, she clipped a small plastic badge onto Seth’s collar. He lifted the ID to get a better look at it and wasn’t happy with the grim-faced picture staring back at him.
The photo on the groom’s license made him look like some deranged man who had just been named as one of the F.B.I.’s “Ten Most Wanted.” Of course, he hadn’t been in the best of moods the day he’d arrived in Indiana. Ross had stopped at the race office on the way to Katie’s farm, insisting Seth fill out the paperwork for his track ID badge. He barely remembered posing for the mugshot while the lawyer had talked with the race officials.
When he noticed the name “Reynolds,” the word only served to make Seth a little more irritated. He let the badge fall back onto his chest. I’m a Remington, damn it. He couldn’t wield the power his name had always represented. Hell, Katie couldn’t even get the name right. He didn’t think she even realized she called him “Seth” every time she talked to him. If she slipped and used his real name in front of the wrong person, the paparazzi might find his trail. He wondered what his fate would be if they unmasked him before the end of the racing season.
Ross had never discussed any contingencies, and Seth sure didn’t want to end up starting all over again in another stable in a different state with a different boss. His anger ebbed as he decided Katie’s difficulty in using his alias pleased him immensely. To her, Seth wasn’t “Crash Reynolds,” he was just himself.
That morning as he shadowed her during chores, Seth realized he would have a hard time keeping this woman out of his thoughts. She was bossy, opinionated, and stubborn—qualities that weren’t common to the spoiled, over-privileged women he’d always known. Every one of Katie’s traits appealed to him, as did those gorgeous eyes and that alluring smile. Seth shook his head to stop the dangerous path his thoughts traveled. No woman was worth that much money.
“Hi, Katie,” the guard called as he passed her side of the truck. He walked to the back of her trailer. As he came back around, he wrote a few things on his clipboard and then returned to Katie. “Who you got with you today?”
“Hi, Joe.” She nodded toward Seth. “New groom.” The man gave Seth a small wave. “Master Criminal and Heathcliffe are in the trailer.” The man made a few more notations on his log and backed up a few steps.
“You’re cleared. See you when you leave,” he said as Katie rolled up her window and eased her truck past the checkpoint.
Seth’s gaze wandered the fence surrounding the track. Tall as the enclosure at any prison yard and topped with barbed wire, it assured the only way in or out was the road leading to the security shack.
“Why the Gestapo?” Seth asked once they’d left the guards behind.
“These are expensive animals, and they race for quite a bit of money. The guards help keep them under close watch. Stops any monkey business.”
Katie parked her truck beside one of the dozens of barns lined in military rows. Seth found the sheer magnitude and complexity of the place overwhelming. People and horses moved about as parts of a well-choreographed and oft-rehearsed dance. Much to his surprise, he realized this was a dance he wanted to learn. Some of the people led horses toward the paddock; some came from it. Several pairs of grooms walked around the barns, leading blanketed horses.
Before he could ask about them, Katie offered an explanation. “They’re cooling down after a race or training.” The woman could read his mind. The entire time they’d worked together that morning, she’d anticipated almost every one of his questions and often answered them before he’d given his curiosity a voice.
After Chris met up with them and Katie unloaded the horses, they each grabbed an animal’s lead rope and a large plastic bucket stuffed with a blanket and walked the horses toward the paddock. Seth hefted the heavy canvas harness bags and followed along.
They passed the small guard post, the only entrance to the fence-enclosed paddock. Katie and Chris gave the names of the horses once again and recited their memorized license numbers without even breaking stride. Seth had to set the harness bags down so he could look at the license Katie had clipped on his shirt. He decided to memorize the number quickly so he didn’t have to keep gawking at his hideous likeness. Turning to hurry after Katie, he collided with a woman heading in the other direction.
Seth immediately dropped the bags to grab the woman by the waist before she fell. �
�I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He set her back on her feet.
The woman looked up at him, her lips forming a coy smile. “You can knock me over any time, Handsome.” Seth almost laughed aloud at the notion any woman would find his work clothes and Elmer Fudd hat attractive.
He reached down to retrieve the harness bags. “I’ve got to go.” Seth made haste to follow Katie and Chris. If he lost them, he wasn’t sure he’d ever find them again in the crowd of people and horses.
The flirtatious woman wouldn’t let him escape that easily. “What’s your hurry? You haven’t even told me who you are.” She stepped directly into his path and reached out, trailing her fingers along his forearm.
Seth recognized an intimate invitation when he saw one. He looked the woman over for a minute to see what she offered. Slim and athletic with long brown hair that curled around her shoulders, she wore a little too much makeup. She was attractive in an earthy sort of way, although not nearly as pretty as Katie.
Seth tried to step around her. “Excuse me, I’ve got a qualification.”
“You’ve got a what?” The brunette laughed. “Oh, you mean a qualifier.”
He bristled at the rudeness. He might be ignorant, but he wasn’t stupid. Not dating you with that attitude, Princess.
“Boy, you’re green. How’d you find your way to the track? Most of us are born into this.”
“Long story. Did you see which way Katie Murphy went?” Seth glanced around at the multitude of extraordinarily busy people he didn’t recognize.
She put her hands on her hips and gawked at him. “You work for Katie? Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Excuse me?”
“Katie and I are old… friends,” she replied with an odd sort of smile. “I’m Rachel Schaeffer.”
“I’m... um... Crash Reynolds.” After the number of times he’d picked up and put down the harness bags, he didn’t bother dropping them again to shake her hand.
She didn’t seem offended because the invitation remained plain in her eyes. “If you tell me which horse you’re paddocking, I’ll help you find it. The races are posted over on that big board by the race office. Even numbered races on the right side of the paddock, odd on the left.” She pointed to the two long aisles of stalls with small metal plaques indicating the race number and postposition for each animal.
“I don’t know which horse. Katie didn’t tell me its name. Oh, wait. There she is.” Seth shouted at Katie as she came toward them with swift, angry strides. “Hey, Boss! Sorry. I lost you in the crowd. Your friend here was going to help me find you, but you forgot to tell me which horse I’m working with.”
Seth caught the distrustful glances exchanged between the two women. Rachel was not only rude, she was a liar. Whatever she and Katie had shared had obviously been far from friendship. For a few long, awkward moments, the three of them stood without saying a word.
Katie finally broke the stilted silence. “Hello, Rachel.” The words were icy and said with a clenched jaw. She turned back to Seth. “We need to get moving.” Making an about-face, Katie stalked back up the left side of the paddock.
“Nice to meet you, Rachel. I need to go,” he said, turning to run after Katie.
“I’ll be seeing lots more of you,” Rachel called after him.
Seth found Katie in front of one of the paddock stalls. Jerking one of the harness bags out of his hands, she hung it on the stall door, unzipped it, and started pulling out equipment. She didn’t say a single word. Earlier in the morning as they’d worked around the barn, she’d chattered nonstop, showing and explaining everything to him time allowed. Now she picked up the tack, marched into the stall, and deftly equipped the horse, ignoring Seth entirely.
She impressed him when she had the horse ready in less than five minutes.
Chris walked up and handed a plastic pad to Katie. It was the last thing she put on the horse, her fingers nimble as she threaded it under the harness.
“What’s that?” Seth asked Chris.
“Postposition marker. Big number is the postposition. Small one is the race.”
Katie turned to Chris. “He’s ready. Get the jog cart and warm him up.” Chris dutifully followed her orders.
Grabbing the bridle hanging on the stall door, Katie stopped for a moment and just stood staring at the mulch-covered floor. Seth watched her face as several emotions played across her features, wondering at the dramatic change in her mood.
“There aren’t any rules about who you can or can’t see.”
He couldn’t tell if she was talking to him or to herself, but he saw her teeth tugging at her bottom lip the second she fell silent. He didn’t understand. “Katie, did I do something wrong?” The huge transformation in her demeanor bothered him, as did knowing he might have caused her emotional shift.
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just drop it. C’mon, Criminal.” She patted the gelding’s neck. “Time to qualify.”
Katie slipped the bit into the horse’s mouth, secured the bridle, and led the animal from the stall. Chris brought the jog cart up from behind and helped her hitch it to the harness. As he slipped onto the seat and tucked the reins under his legs, she led the animal out of the paddock. Moving out onto the track, Chris urged Criminal into an easy jog.
Seth was fascinated by the movement of the horses. Despite the numerous animals on the track traveling in different directions, everyone seemed to know how to steer clear of collisions. Some trucks dragging large metal grates across the track’s surface joined the spectacle, and he expected the horses to leave. Wrong. They all managed to share the track without a problem.
Chris completed a pair of laps and guided his horse off the track. Katie caught Criminal’s bridle and led the gelding back to the paddock. Seth watched as Chris managed to deftly remove the jog cart even though the horse remained in motion, wondering if he’d ever be able to do anything except get in the way. He followed Katie and Criminal back into the paddock.
She removed the bridle, replacing it with a halter. Without taking off the harness, she tethered Criminal in the stall and covered the gelding with a blanket. The job done, Katie hurried away.
“Where we heading?” Seth fell in step beside her, thinking the woman never seemed to stand still for even a second.
“Master Criminal is warmed up. We’ve got to get Heathcliffe ready now.”
Seth shook his head and laughed. “Master Criminal? Heathcliffe? I’m never going to get over the ridiculous things people name their horses. Don’t people ever call them something like Bob or Joe?” Katie smiled, making Seth grateful to see her eyes sparkle again.
As she crouched to put a piece around the horse’s lower front leg, Seth squatted beside her to watch. He decided to try and impress her. “Tendon boot. Protects and supports the leg.” Katie glanced over and grinned. Then she grabbed another piece and put it on Heathcliffe. “Knee boot. Keeps him from hitting his front knees together.”
“You might learn this yet.” She stood up; he followed. Katie grabbed the black leather harness. “How about this?” she asked as she slipped the harness on the horse’s back and held up an attached vinyl loop through which she threaded Heathcliffe’s thick tail.
“Crupper. And the towel hanging off it’s called a shit towel. How am I doing, Boss?”
Katie gave him an enchanting smile. “Great. Better than I expected.” She shoved some equipment at him. “Since you’re doing so well, you can help me with the hopples.”
Chris arrived with the jog cart, and Katie stood back and let Seth lead Heathcliffe to the chute. “Don’t forget the overcheck,” she yelled after him.
Seth hoped he’d surprised her by knowing exactly what she was talking about and that he’d figured out how to correctly attach the long strap running from bridle to harness.
Hopping onto the jog cart, Chris steered the horse onto the track. Seth walked back to Katie and waited for her to acknowledge his achievement.
&n
bsp; “You did all right for a newbie,” Katie said.
Seth decided she wasn’t one to liberally apply praise. “Thanks. I think. How long until Criminal runs?”
“He’d better not run!”
Seth scratched his head, feeling like he’d been in a perpetual state of confusion since the moment he’d met Katie Murphy. “I thought he was here to run a qualifier.”
“Standardbreds don’t run or gallop, Seth. They race at a pace or a trot. If they run, they’re pretty much out of the race. It’s called ‘making a break.’”
Good God, was he going to learn enough to stop sounding ignorant? “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the difference between a pacer and a trotter?”
“It’s got to do with what their legs are doing.” She used her fingers to show him how the animal’s legs would move. “Pacers move both legs on the same side of the body at the same time. Trotters move opposites. You know, right front leg and back left leg at the same time. I like pacers better. Trotters break more often than pacers.”
After Heathcliffe was safely back in his paddock stall, Katie invited Seth to stand at the fence to watch Criminal qualify. They stood side by side as a blue Cadillac sedan pulled out on the track with two large metal gates tucked neatly along the doors.
As the rest of the horses finishing their warm-up laps vacated the track via one chute, the qualifying horses entered using the other. Seth watched as Chris led Criminal toward the track. The young groom chatted with a tall, thin man buckling the chinstrap on his maroon and gold helmet.
“Who’s that?” Seth asked, nudging Katie with his elbow.
“My driver—Brian Mitchell.”
“Isn’t he using your cart?”
“He uses his sulky... his race bike. It’s a lot lighter and a lot faster than a jog cart. Carts are safer, but they’re way too heavy to race with.” She pointed back at Brian. “Look how much closer he sits behind the horse on a bike.” Brian Mitchell practically straddled the horse on the much smaller metal sulky.
The sedan opened its gates, spreading them wide as if they were wings. The Cadillac started to move, going faster and faster as the seven horses picked up their pace and took their positions. Katie pointed out the numbers on the gates indicating which horse should be in which postposition. By the time the line of animals and drivers reached the starting point, they were in full motion. The car sped ahead and the gates retracted. The qualifying race was on.