he asked.
“Fine,” she said, but looked away again, remembering how she’d stared over the sheet across her spread legs and watched as Dr. Adler ran warm water on the speculum. “This won’t take long,” he said. “You’re almost done, and you’re doing just fine.”
“Relax, darlin’,” she heard Randy saying softly. “You’re almost done. Just relax and it’ll all be over in a minute.” He completed his examination and removed the speculum, stepped aside, and instructed the stable-hand to take the twitch off. The mare shook her head several times, scrunched her nose, then rubbed it on her feed tub, and rubbed it again.
“She’s clean,” Randy told Joan as he gathered his things and walked out of the stall. “About to go out of heat though, not just coming in. Mark this date and ship her in about two weeks.” He walked over to the hose and washed off the speculum. “How far does she have to go?”
Joan had followed him. “About a two-hour ride.”
Randy nodded.
Joan stepped closer. “Would you like some coffee?”
Randy looked into her eyes briefly, then glanced at Dawn. “Thanks, but not today. Dawn’s starving and I promised to feed her before she faints.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Joan traced his shoulder with her fingertip. “Maybe next time.”
Back in the truck again and pulling out of the driveway, Randy looked at Dawn and marveled. He’d never known anyone this quiet. “I forgot to tell you,” he said. “You’re allowed to talk on farm calls. In fact, it actually helps me out. That way I don’t have to.”
Dawn stared out her window. “Sorry. Permission granted or not, I didn’t have anything to say.”
Randy smiled. Quiet, yes. Shy...no. He hesitated. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. She was thinking about how if she hadn’t been along on the call, and Joan Richmond had her way, Randy and the woman probably wouldn’t be doing any talking right about now either. And she was thinking about the mare, her hind-end smeared with lubricating jelly, violated.
“It was okay,” she remembered telling her mother after her exam, relieved beyond belief that it was over. “You were right, he didn’t really look at me. And it didn’t hurt. He says I have good pelvic somethings. I’m hungry. Can we go to McDonald’s?”
Her mother nodded, smiling, but then grew serious. “Do you have any questions? Anything you want to know?”
“No,” Dawn said. “Nothing.”
They were both relieved then. They’d gotten through it.
Dawn wondered if the mare had any questions.
Randy stopped at the first pizza place they saw. Once inside, Dawn headed for the ladies room, Randy, the men’s. When he came out, Dawn was talking on the pay phone over by the bar. It bothered him for some reason. And the longer she talked, the more aggravated he became. He couldn’t believe he’d practically spent the whole day with her and hadn’t once thought of a way to ask if she was involved with someone. What if she was? What if that’s who she was talking to now? What if she was married? He’d been so preoccupied with the rest of her body, he’d never once looked at her hands to see if she was wearing an engagement ring, or worse, a wedding band.
When Dawn laughed and hung up, Randy shook his head and stared in the opposite direction.
“Has the waitress been by?” she asked, sitting down across from him. “I’m dying of thirst.”
Randy kept his eyes focused elsewhere, still wondering who she’d phoned. “No. Besides, how would I know what you’d want anyway?”
Dawn looked at him curiously. “I don’t know. I think water might’ve been a safe bet. Though I normally prefer white wine with pizza.”
Randy turned and looked at her right as the waitress approached the table. “Drinks?”
Dawn nodded. “I’ll have a glass of white wine, Chardonnay if you have it, please.” She glanced at Randy. “That’s if you don’t mind?”
Randy quickly lowered his eyes to her left hand, then just to be safe, her right. Empty. No rings. “Anything you like. I’ll have the same.”
It was odd that he’d ordered wine, since he really didn’t care for it. Though he had to admit, it didn’t taste half bad with pizza. “Do you want some dessert?” he asked, when they’d finished eating.
“No thanks.” Dawn gazed nonchalantly around the restaurant. “I’m full.”
It’s no wonder, Randy thought. She’d eaten half a pizza, half a twelve cut. “Well, I think I’ll have something. I’m still hungry.”
Dawn glanced at her watch. “I think we’d better get going, not that I’m trying to tell you what to do. But if we’re going to get done at a decent hour...”
Randy had to smile. She was already putting on her jacket, as if it were settled. He stood up without a word and walked over to the counter to get the check and pay the bill. Dawn waited for him at the end of the bar. As he walked back to the booth to leave a tip, he noticed two men trying to strike up a conversation with her. If she hadn’t been giving them the cutest damned cold shoulder he’d ever seen, it would have annoyed him. But as it was, he was smiling as he reached for her arm and opened the door.
The next farm call was only a fifteen minute ride, but again, it was a relatively quiet ride. The barn was dark when they arrived, so Randy walked up to the farm house and knocked on the door.
A man opened it and leaned out the screen. “Yeah?”
“I’m Dr. Iredell. I’m here to worm your horses.”
“Really? Well, you should’ve been here hours ago.”
“Sorry, I’ve had a busy day,” Randy said, trying to sound as pleasant as possible. People like this irritated him. “But I’m here now, so...”
“You’re too late.”
Randy’s face reddened. “No lights in the barn?”
“No, I got lights. But I got me another vet, too. One that comes on time.” He slammed the door shut.
Sitting close enough to hear, Dawn lowered her eyes with this, as if she were looking at the clipboard.
Randy stared at the door for a few seconds, thinking about knocking again and having the last word, but changed his mind. He walked back to the truck, got in behind the wheel, and pulled the door shut. “I don’t make exact appointments for farm calls,” he said, through clenched teeth. “The son of a bitch.”
Dawn glanced at him and nodded, then drew a line through the man’s name. “One down and three to go.”
The next two calls were within a mile of each other, both went routinely and quickly, and they were off to their last. As they pulled down the driveway, a bubbly teenage girl with a big smile and a mouthful of shiny braces rushed out to greet them. She talked all the way to the barn, with questions galore, and grew quiet only when Randy was about to draw blood from her horse. She held her breath and covered her horse’s eyes.
“All done,” Randy said.
The young girl exhaled. “We’re going to our first show next week, so I have to have the Coggins report back by then or we can’t go. Will I have it by then?”
Randy was holding the wrapper from the test vial in his teeth and couldn’t answer right away.
“Will I?”
Randy marked the vial and put it in the wrapper. “Boy, I don’t know. That’s pushing it. It’s been taking about ten days.”
“Ten days?! Oh no! We won’t be able to go then!” In an instant, the girl bordered on tears. “Why do we need one anyway? It’s not fair.”
Randy explained briefly about equine encephalomyelitis and how rapidly it had spread across several states south of them, then paused, glancing at Dawn before he continued. “And while your horse may be fine, don’t you want to be sure about the others?” He patted the horse’s neck. “I’d hate to think you’d want him exposed to other...”
“But,” the girl interrupted, “I just have to have it before the show!”
Randy put the vial in his shirt pocket and walked out of the stall. “Well, perhaps you should’ve called
me sooner then. That way I could’ve made sure you had it in time.”
“But I didn’t have all the money till this morning. I baby-sit.” She dug into her jeans’ pocket and came up with a fistful of one-dollar bills and a bunch of change. “Here.” She reached for Randy’s hand, deposited the money, and folded his fingers around it, so none would fall out. “I earned it all myself.”
Randy stared at his hand a moment, then raised his eyes, shaking his head and smiling. “All right, if we don’t get the results by Friday, I’ll call the lab for it and write you up something to get you into the show.”
“Honest?”
Randy nodded. “Honest.”
The girl beamed. “Is Magic going to be all right after the blood you just took?”
Randy glanced back at the plump pony, bed knee-deep in straw and munching his hay. “He’ll be just fine.” He turned to Dawn. “He really is pretty, isn’t he?”
Dawn smiled, their eyes connecting for just a second before she gazed in at the pony, agreeing. “I’ll bet he makes you very proud.”
“Can I drive you home?” Randy asked, as they pulled out onto the highway. He wanted to see who was waiting for her.
“My car’s at the track,” Dawn said.
Randy nodded. “I really appreciate you helping me today.”
Dawn shrugged, yawning, and edged down a little in the seat, resting her head on her arm against the window. Today had been fun, but now she was tired, and when she was tired...
After a few minutes of relative silence, Randy turned the radio on, not high, but apparently loud enough to startle Dawn, and she jumped.
He turned it down. “I’m sorry. Were you sleeping?” How was he supposed to know, as quiet as she was?
“You’re driving,” Dawn snapped. “Not me.”
Randy arched his eyebrows and made a face. “Well, excuse me. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to the track.”
It was after ten. No wonder she was tired. She burrowed down again and within minutes was snoring softly. At every light, Randy found himself just gazing at her.
He waved to the night guard as he drove through the gate at the track, and pulled into the horsemen’s parking lot. There were only eight or nine cars there, four parked in the front row. Figuring one of these had to be hers, he slowed to a stop and put the truck into park.
He hated to wake her, he really did, and would’ve been content to just watch her sleep. She was so beautiful. And her hair... He wanted to touch it, to lace his fingers through it, to touch her face...
“Wake up,” he whispered. “Wake up and look at me.”
Dawn never even stirred.
He ran his eyes down the length of her body, wondering again about who she’d phoned earlier, knowing if she belonged to him, there’d be no way he’d let her out at night by herself, let alone with another man.
He shook his head, berating himself. He hardly knew her. What was he thinking? He touched her arm lightly. “Dawn...”
Nothing, not even a flinch. He smiled at how soundly she slept. Then suddenly something out the window past her in the distance caught his eye.
“Holy shit! Look at that car!”
Dawn jumped, wide-eyed and clutching her chest.
“Look at it!” He pointed past the guard shack. “The Jaguar! Look! Right there!”
Dawn stared, trying to swallow and catch her breath at the same time.
“Come on, let’s go look at it.” He got out and came around to open her door. “Come on,” he said, tugging at her arm.
Dawn picked her purse up off the floor, rubbing her eyes as she followed him. He circled the Jaguar twice, shaking his head and whistling under his breath. “This is a classic, Dawn.”
The guard peered out, put his newspaper down, and came out to join them. “Pretty, ain’t it, Doc?”
Randy nodded. “It’s beautiful. Whose is it?”
Dawn was just about to tell him, but the guard spoke first. “Charlie says it belongs to some broad. I’ve only seen it here this late once or twice, but apparently this is where it’s parked all the time.” He motioned to the overhead light. “The broad must be afraid of the dark or something.”
Dawn turned to the man. “Is “broad” your term or Charlie’s?”
When the guard shrugged, cocking an indifferent eyebrow, Dawn stared him down, her green eyes steel like a cat’s in the night. And with that, he turned and walked back to the guard shack. Randy was circling the Jaguar again.
“I’d give my right ball for a car like this.”
Dawn gave it some thought as he ran his hand across the hood. “It’s lacquer. Jesus! Hand rubbed I bet.”
Dawn nodded.
“I don’t believe this, a Jaguar XKE Roadster. It’s got to be a ‘67 or a ‘68. ‘68 I bet.”
Dawn nodded again. “Randy, it’s been a blast, but I’ve got to go home. I’m tired.” She wanted him to move out of the way. But he just stood there, staring, and for a second her mind wandered. She could see her father’s face. His finding her this car was the way he did things. He’d searched and searched himself. It had to be perfect. Right color, red with black interior. Right year. And all the options. She could see the gold ribbon wrapped around it. “Randy...” She nudged him. “I really am tired.”
He stepped back and turned slightly. “We never discussed what I was going to pay you.”
Dawn yawned. “Well, you did feed me twice.”
Randy smiled. “I have to pay you something.”
Dawn waved a weary hand. “Fine, but let’s talk about it tomorrow.” She took her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait a minute.” Randy’s eyes widened. “This is your car?”
Dawn nodded and got in behind the wheel, leaving Randy just standing there, with his mouth agape in disbelief as she started it and drove away.
Chapter Eight
“The birthday girl is here!”
Ben cringed.
“And I’ve come for my birthday present!” Gloria rounded the corner of the shedrow with three of her lady friends trailing behind, tiptoeing and watching their step. “This is Jeanne, this is Nancy, and this is Elizabeth.”
Ben nodded politely, still unable to believe he’d agreed to have dinner with this woman.
“Now don’t get any ideas, girls, I saw him first.” Gloria declared, all aglow. “And isn’t he everything I said he was?”
Gloria’s lady friends giggled.
“He’s such a peach. He even had a special race made just so my little Cajun could run on his Momma’s birthday.”
Ben sighed. Getting an extra race written wasn’t all that difficult. He’d told her that three times already.
“Let’s go see Cajun,” Gloria said. “Come, let me show you.” The four women filed out of the tack room in a flurry and a myriad of flowery fragrances.
Ben took out his handkerchief, sneezed, and blew his nose.
The women oohed and aahed in front of the stall.
“Are you going to win, Cajun honey?”
“Should we bet on you?”
“Are you going to talk to us?”
Cajun twitched.
“He said yes!” they chorused. “He said yes!”
Cajun twitched again.
“Yes! Yes! He’s trying to tell us something!”
They coaxed him for more information. He twitched and twitched and twitched as they giggled and laughed. Then they scurried down the shedrow and headed for the clubhouse.
“I’m going to have a Rueben sandwich for lunch. What about
you?”
“Who me? No, I just started a new diet. I’m having a salad.”
“What?” Gloria had her heart set on a Reuben and a salad. After all, it was her birthday. “Start your diet tomorrow.”
Cajun was so even-tempered he didn’t need a pony in the post parade. Tom and Dawn walked him over to the paddock. Ben had reluctantly agreed to sit with Gloria and her lad
y friends in the clubhouse and had left several minutes earlier to join them. He was dreading it, but feared they’d come waltzing into the paddock otherwise and figured this was the lesser of two evils.
Johnny Burke, the young apprentice jockey named to ride Cajun, came out of the jocks’ room first, grinning, in spite of wearing lilac and pink polka dots.
Tom put his arm around him and leaned down to talk. “I don’t care if you’re looking up the asses of the whole fucking field at the quarter pole, you sit on him until then.”
Johnny nodded.
“Ask him for some run, but don’t abuse him. If he wants to go, then ride him out. Got that?”
Johnny nodded again, smiling at Dawn as she led Cajun in past them. “He might come up short,” Tom added. “But chances are he’s gonna close full of run.”
The race was a flat mile. Cajun broke slowly, trailed the field all the way to the head of the stretch, and was at least ten lengths out of it when Johnny asked him for some run. He started picking up horses on the outside then, practically in the middle of the racetrack, and got up just in time to nose a horse out for second, beaten only half a length for all of it.
Gloria and her lady friends were ecstatic, jumping up and down and screaming. One of them even cried, sobbed no less. Gloria hugged Ben and kissed him on the cheek. This, while she was still jumping up and down. And that was enough for him. He mumbled something and made a quick exit.
Horses finishing first and second always went to the test barn, commonly called the spit barn, since in the old days they used to test a horse’s saliva for the presence of drugs. They test their urine now, or blood if the horse won’t oblige. Either way, it’s still called the spit barn.
Cajun bounced alongside Dawn, tossing his head and pushing up against her. Like he knew he’d done good. Tom headed for their barn to get his halter and shank. By the time Dawn reached the spit barn, having to take the customary designated route under the watchful eye of a state official, Tom was waiting for her. They watered Cajun, allowing him to drink about a quarter of a bucket, bathed him, scraped him off and put a light blanket on him. He was allowed another drink then. And while Dawn finished cooling him out, Tom took his bridle and went back to the barn to clean his stall.
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