“Beau Born and Perfect Crime!”
“Come on, Beau. Come on.”
Johnny reached down and out with his whip, driving, connecting with each blow, pushing with his hands.
“It’s Beau Born and Perfect Crime at the wire!”
Dawn jumped down off the fence and grabbed hold of Ben’s arm. “Did he win it?”
Ben shook his head, sounding breathless. “I couldn’t tell. I think he held on.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a photo for win and place. Please hold all your tickets.”
Randy leaned on the rail, watching as Beau passed in front of him, having jumped off his truck to get a closer look at the stretch run. Beau pulled up on his own, at least a hundred feet from Tom and Red. Johnny waited for them, and they turned and headed back to the grandstand. When they cantered past Randy, Tom called to him, “Johnny thinks he hung on!”
Ben and Dawn were out on the racetrack waiting. Beau was the last to return. Perfect Crime’s trainer circled his horse in front of the gap, waiting for the numbers to be posted. Ben watched closely as Beau approached, studying his legs as each hoof hit the ground squarely.
The photo sign went dark, and the number five was posted in first place. It was official. Beau Born had hung on to win.
“All right!” Johnny waved his whip, looking up at the stewards’ box as Tom led them into the winner’s circle. Everyone took their places for the picture. Johnny dismounted then, glancing at Ben before he walked over to weigh in. He looked at him again as he started toward the jocks’ room, wanting to say something to him, but knew better, and gave a thumbs up instead. In the jocks’ room, Miguel lay on a cot, in a coma.
Dawn headed for the spit barn while Tom took Red back to their barn to get Beau’s halter and shank. Ben stopped to talk to a friend for a moment, a trainer called Big Ralph, then headed back to the barn himself. Slowly.
Beau got an extra sudsy soap bath, which he shared with Tom and Dawn. The two of them laughed and joked. Tom did his Mohammed Ali impression, calling Beau the greatest horse of all time, each version slightly different from the last.
“Sharp as a buzzard and swift as a bee.”
Randy drove down to the Miller barn and got out of his truck, watching them, well within hearing distance. It would have been nice to be able to join them, but it wasn’t allowed. The only time a veterinarian graced the spit barn was when paged, and on record. Emergencies.
Dawn stayed with Beau to cool him out, and Tom walked back to their barn. When he saw Randy, he hailed Beau’s tack in triumph.
“Was that fucking close or what?”
Randy smiled and waited until he came closer to ask, “How is he?”
Tom shook his head. “I don’t know. He seems...” He glanced over his shoulder. “The way he pulled up had me a little concerned. But then...”
Randy nodded, concerned himself with how he’d eased up coming down the stretch. “Maybe he just ran out of air.”
Tom smiled hopefully, and both fell quiet as Ben started down the shedrow. He, too, appeared to have run out of air. Randy shook his hand, congratulating him, and Ben smiled a tired smile, then took his handkerchief out to wipe his brow, and Randy turned to leave.
“You’ll be back here in time to go to dinner, won’t you?”
Randy nodded. He’d be back within the hour, he told him. Tom headed down to Red’s stall to untack him, and came back a few minutes later to find Ben bedding down Beau’s stall.
“I’ll do that, old man. What the hell?”
Ben shrugged with his back to him, said he was perfectly capable himself, and Tom walked on, grumbling about what a pain in the ass he was. Ben made several trips to the hay room to get more straw, finished, and sat down and mopped his brow again. Tom looked up from cleaning the tack and nodded to Johnny when he appeared in the doorway.
“Ben?”
Ben hadn’t realized he was there, and turned as Johnny hesitated. “I want to thank you for naming me on Beau Born. I know he’s your big horse, and the confidence you placed in me...” His voice cracked, and he glanced away. He hadn’t just won a race, only the second of his career. He’d won on one of the finest racehorses Nottingham Downs had ever seen. A dream come true. “I uh...I just want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
“Ah!” Ben said. “He is my big horse and he run big. But I got me a good ride too.”
“Thank you.” Johnny cleared his throat and hesitated again. “I was afraid they might get to him in the stretch.”
Ben’s face reddened as he turned and stared at the condition book on his desk. “He came up short, that’s all. It’s his first time out this year.”
Johnny glanced at Tom, an awkward moment of silence following. Ben finally looked at him again, a natural lightweight if he’d ever seen one. Short, a little homely. “What’s on your mind, son?”
Johnny drew a deep breath. “I know I’m just a bug and all,” he said, referring to his being an apprentice. “But he had trouble in the turn. I know I don’t know him that well, but...”
Ben nodded, sparing him. “I know, son. I saw the fractions. I know that horse like the back of my hand. He was stopping.” He looked at Tom a second. Tom knew it too. “But you brought him home,” he said to Johnny. “And I’m proud of you. You did good.”
Johnny smiled, but then turned away, tears filling his eyes, and Ben stood up and patted him on the back. “You’re going to be one hell of a jock. I only pray you stay as honest as you are now.”
Johnny nodded, and had to clear his throat to speak. “They took Miguel away. He’s unconscious.”
When Dawn returned with Beau, the first thing Ben asked was how much water he drank?
“One whole bucket and about a third of another.”
Ben looked in at him, watching as he circled the stall several times and pawed at his straw. Finally, buckling his knees, Beau laid down and rolled. When he stood up, he shook violently, straw flying everywhere. Then he walked over to his hay rack, tossed his head before rooting into it, and came out with a mouthful. It was then that blood started trickling from his nose. Ben stared as it dropped to the pale yellow straw. That’s when Tom saw it. And then Dawn.
“Son of a bitch!” Tom said.
Randy walked up behind them, took one look, and judging from Tom’s reaction, surmised Beau had never bled before. As Randy ducked under the webbing to examine him, Tom looked at Ben and shook his head. The old man was white as a ghost. “Well, that explains how he pulled up.”
Ben nodded somberly. “And why he almost stopped at the head of the stretch.”
Randy took hold of Beau’s halter, raising his head so he could look up into each nostril. The hope at this point was for there to be a scratch or a cut responsible. But this was not the case. Though barely more than a trickle, the blood was coming from both sides. Beau was bleeding internally.
Ben drew a breath and tried to think straight. “Do we need to treat him, Doc?”
“No, I don’t think so. It’s about stopped.” He let go of Beau, patted him on the neck, and walked out of the stall. “We’ll just keep an eye on him for a few days. He’ll give us a sign as to what extent...”
Ben looked at Dawn, and forced a smile as he shook his head and nudged past her into the tack room. “Listen. Come on now. We just won a race. Let’s not act like somebody died.” He sat down and looked from one to the next as they all filed in behind him. “Today we’re winners. And that’s what racing’s all about.”
He stared down at the floor a second. “Do him up, bran mash him, and we’ll come back and check on him after we celebrate his win. Go on. Because by golly, he gave us a performance worth celebrating.” When he reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, Dawn had to turn and leave.
She walked over to Beau’s stall and looked in at him, remembering the first time she’d seen him. He seemed so quiet now, unlike the Beau who came back from a race eager for his bran mash and pawing his stall with impatience. She stroke
d his neck, more in awe of him now than ever.
In spite of Ben’s insistence they get in the mood to celebrate, they remained somber. Ben said he’d ride to the restaurant with Randy, insisted on it in fact, because he wanted to talk to him. And Tom rode with Dawn. It was his first time riding in the Jaguar, so he made a big deal of it, wiping his feet and dusting off his jeans.
“It’s kinda cute,” he said, patting the dashboard. “Too small to screw in though.”
Dawn laughed, and so did Tom, but then they both grew serious again. “Ben’s taking this a lot harder than he’s letting on,” Tom said.
“I know.” Dawn glanced at him. “But isn’t there something they can give him?” she asked, meaning Beau.
“Sure, there’s lots of things, and they all have side effects. Besides, the stuff that’s really good, only works for a while, and you only treat the problem, you don’t fix it.”
Dawn stared at the road.
“Nothing’s for sure. And I may be wrong, but knowing the old man like I do, I don’t think he’ll try any of it. Especially on Beau.”
They were quiet for a while, sitting at one light, then another. Dawn glanced in her rearview mirror. “Does Ben look all right to you?”
Tom shook his head. “Don’t worry too much about him though. He’s a tough old cuss.”
“I know,” Dawn said. “But I still do.”
Tom nodded, looking out his window. So did he.
Inside the restaurant, seated, and coming as no surprise, Ben announced Beau had run his last race. “As of today, he’s retired.” He’d weighed the options Randy had supplied, back and forth, and always of the opinion, “Think long, think wrong,” he was going with his gut reaction. Racing Beau at this stage was not worth the risk. Not with breeding in his future, and the possible consequences.
“He’s trying to tell me he’s done, and I’m listening. Don’t look so sad...it’s going to be okay. He went out a winner and that’s the way to go. May we all be so lucky.”
Chapter Fifteen
Beau was lazily eating hay when they returned to the barn to check on him. It was dark out, and from all appearances, he seemed bored with their being there. Ben and Tom left, and Randy drove Dawn to the horsemen’s lot to get her car.
“Finally,” he said, putting his truck into park and referring to their being alone.
Dawn chuckled, then saddened. “I feel so bad.”
Randy leaned close and kissed her. “Don’t. He’ll be fine.” He kissed her again. “And you’ll be fine, and I’ll be fine...”
Dawn smiled.
“Let’s go to my apartment,” Randy said, touching her hair gently as he gazed into her eyes.
Dawn hesitated, her same old defenses surfacing, but now in his arms, found herself agreeing. “Okay. But I need to go home and shower first.”
Randy kissed her. “I have a shower,” he said, his mouth against hers.
Dawn laughed. “No doubt. But still. Why don’t we drop your truck off and go to my apartment so I can shower there. Then we can go back to yours.” It sounded silly even to her, but all the same, this was the way it had to be.
“I liked my idea better,” Randy said, holding her closer.
Dawn pulled away. “But I need clean clothes, clean underwear.”
Randy sat back with an incredulous look in his eyes. “Why? What the hell are you going to need them for? Are we on the same page here?” Angered by her blank expression in response, he threw his hands up in frustration. “My God! I’ve never ever had this much trouble getting into a woman’s pants in my life.”
Dawn stared, then quickly, and before he could even move, she was out of the truck and storming toward her car.
Randy got out and chased after her. “I’m sorry,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “Honest, Dawn. I didn’t mean it that way.” He wished he could take it all back. He’d had her, he could tell by the way she’d kissed him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. And he’d blown it. “Dawn, I’m sorry.”
“Randy, please,” she said, and yanked her arm free with such force, it surprised him. He’d barely had his hand on her. “Just let me go, okay?”
“I can’t,” he said. He shook his head, searching her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
Dawn stepped back, then turned around, looked out at the road, and sighed. “Did it ever occur to you, that just maybe we aren’t supposed to amount to anything? That maybe it’s not in the cards for us.”
Randy shook his head, responding honestly, “No, not for a second.”
Dawn glanced at him, then stared away again, struggling inside. “I can’t agree with your past, Randy. The casual way you regard such...” She trailed off, drew a breath, and turned. “And when you say things to remind me of it, then it’s no longer gossip. It’s who you are and it happened. I feel like you’ve got me numbered, and I’ve just been standing in line.”
Randy stepped toward her. “You seem to think you know everything about my past and who I am, and yet I know nothing of yours,” he said, desperately trying to establish a defense.
“What’s the difference?” Dawn said, starting past him. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Randy stopped her, forgetting his own cause momentarily. “Why? Is there something in your past I wouldn’t be able to handle either?”
Silence.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “Are you a virgin?”
Dawn sighed and shook her head. “You’re missing the point, Randy. You’re not even close. Your past is your business. I can even say I don’t care. What’s done is done. It’s what you do from here on in that would...”
Randy swallowed hard, wanting so desperately to be with her, to hold her, to touch her… “You’re all I can see, Dawn” he said, searching her eyes. “I can’t say what’s going to happen. I don’t even know where it’s headed. I just know you’re all I can think about.”
Dawn looked at him, the sound of traffic far in the distance. She just looked at him. Then without a word, she turned and reached for the door handle.
Randy gripped her arm to stop her. “Dawn, please. Give us a chance.”
Dawn hesitated before raising her eyes to his. He had hold of her arm, but it was a fragile hold, a gentle hold. It would be hard to explain, but it meant everything in the world to her at that moment. This gentle hold he had on her.
He smiled faintly. “We’ll do it your way. My apartment to drop off my truck, then to yours, and then back to mine. Okay?”
Dawn nodded. “Okay.”
They dropped his truck off as planned. When they arrived at Dawn’s apartment, Linda wasn’t there. “Make yourself at home. I’ll only be about ten minutes, maybe fifteen, so don’t panic.” Dawn started down the hall. “There’s some beer in the fridge.”
Randy smiled. “Are you sure I can’t…?”
Dawn laughed, shaking her head. “No, you can’t join me. And I don’t lock the door, I have a phobia about it. So behave and stay out here. Okay?” She waited for him to nod in agreement. “Linda and I have a pact about men in the apartment; it’s not allowed that way. So I mean, behave.”
“Okay, okay,” Randy said, holding up his hands. “I’ll be a good little boy, I promise.”
He went into the kitchen for a beer, came back into the living room, and walked around looking at the pictures on the wall. Eventually, he ambled down the hall, careful not to go near the room he knew was Dawn’s, from the sound of running water. He walked past and stopped at the next one. The door was open so he glanced inside, then marveled.
It was the size of most people’s living rooms and had a large canopy bed in the center, the bedspread a yellow silk. The walls, the pillows, and the curtains were also yellow, and even the assorted stuffed animals. There had to be at least fifty of them, all sizes, and perched all over the place. He smiled The room looked like Linda.
He turned and started back down the hall, and as he passed Dawn’s door, stopped. For just a few seconds he gav
e thought to sneaking in to join her. But he didn’t want to scare her. He slugged a mouthful of beer. Still, if there were a way to get in there, without scaring her…
He waited until she turned the shower off, then called to her. “Dawn, do you have any aspirin?”
“What” she shouted. “I didn’t hear you. Wait a minute.”
Standing in the doorway, for a split second, he felt guilty. But that passed as soon as she cracked the door and looked out.
“What did you say?”
Having come this far, it made no sense to turn back. “I said, do you have any aspirin? My head hurts.” He looked sincere, making no move to enter the room.
“Yes, in here. No, wait a minute. There’s some in Linda’s bath…no, don’t go in there, she’ll kill me.” She paused, thinking. “Just wait, I’ll get you some. Just a minute.”
Randy took another swig of beer to hide his smile, and shook his head at his own persistence.
“Come to the bathroom door. Here.” Dawn stuck her hand out, waited for him to take the aspirin, and shut the door quickly. “I’ll be out in five minutes.”
Randy placed the aspirin on the bedside table, and looked around the room, as large as Linda’s, but furnished quite differently. It was filled with patchwork quilts. Several of them hung on the walls along with numerous oil paintings of horses. A braided rug covered the floor. The bedside lamps were brass, resembling engineers’ lanterns. The bed was a king-size four-poster style, blanketed with a multicolored quilted bedspread. A sweater and a pair of faded jeans were laid out on it. He sat down on the bed and finished the rest of his beer.
“I hit my head,” he said.
From behind the door, Dawn asked, “Where?”
“In the kitchen.”
“No, I mean where?”
Randy hesitated. “The back of it.”
“Is it bad?”
“I’m not sure, I can’t see it.” He laughed to himself. “The bleeding’s almost stopped.”
Dawn opened the door and peeked out. “Are you serious? Let me see.” She pointed across the room. “Get me my robe. It’s on the chair right there.”
Winning Odds Trilogy Page 19