“Again? Why?”
Dawn hesitated, uncomfortable whenever she was reminded of just how familiar the two of them were. “I’m not sure, but I’m going to ask him.”
“I wouldn’t mess with him, Dawn.”
She walked past him. “I’m not going to. I just want to talk to him.”
Randy turned, watching her. “So, is Linda still at the apartment?”
“No, they made up.”
“Good. Can I nail the door shut?”
Dawn laughed. They made plans to meet at six, and Randy walked to his truck, glancing back to comment again about how much he loved her hair. “It’s just beautiful,” he said, already imagining how it was going to feel against his bare skin. Everywhere.
Dawn stood in the road between the barns and listened to the race being called. The sounds came and went whenever the wind changed directions. She could have sworn she heard Son of Royalty’s name repeated several times at the end. A few minutes later, and still out on the road, she watched as Tom approached the turn-off to the spit barn. She held her breath, hoping, hoping, and sighed disappointedly when he kept on coming.
He held up three fingers. “We got beat just a neck for all of it.” At the barn, he dismounted Red and smacked him on the rump to send him to his stall as he led Son of Royalty down the shedrow.
The ease with which he did this always amazed Dawn, all in one fell swoop. She helped him take off the bridle and put on Son’s halter. Son dragged him to the water bucket then and gulped down what Tom allowed him to safely drink.
“Do you want help bathing him?” Dawn asked.
“Nah.” Tom chewed heartily on a toothpick and grinned. “Wouldn’t want you to mess up your new hairdo.” He stopped long enough to scratch himself and off they went.
Dawn checked on Cajun and following that, cleaned Son’s bridle and bit. When Tom returned, she scraped off Son of Royalty, gave him another drink, and Tom hung him on the walker.
“What a team,” Ben would say.
Tom headed to the kitchen then, while Dawn kept an eye on Son and Cajun. She leafed through a magazine, but got bored with it. Son of Royalty drank two more times before having his fill. Dawn leafed through the magazine again, and walked up and down the shedrow, stopping to talk to each horse in passing. She removed Son’s cooling sheet, let him walk another five minutes or so, then put him away, and decided to run stalls.
When Tom returned, she was once again leafing through the magazine. “I mixed the feed,” she said, glancing up at him.
Tom smiled. “Did you fool them?”
She nodded. “I used all the extra water buckets and didn’t make a sound.”
Tom chuckled. “Well good for you. I’ll go run stalls.”
“I did them already.”
“What? What the fuck?” Tom stood, bobbing his head. “Do you think you’re the only one bored around here? What am I supposed to do now?”
“I don’t know. But I do wish you’d quit scratching.”
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Dawn, it was time to head over to the paddock with Cajun. “Go on,” Tom said. “I’ll catch his stall and throw the feed in and meet you over there.”
As usual, Cajun stood like an old pro in the paddock, aside from his constant twitching. But Ben was fidgety. “Bud’s clocking him,” he told Tom.
Tom just looked at him. Dawn just looked at him. Neither dared so much as move or glance left or right. It was as if nothing had been said, but the realization was in their eyes.
“Fucking wonderful,” Tom muttered under his breath.
Ben forced a smile as Johnny approached. His instructions to the young man were brief. “He’s as fit as he’ll ever be. It’s all up to you now.” If they were going to lose him, Ben wanted the win.
Johnny nodded.
“Riders up!”
Ben wouldn’t even attempt the long trek to the clubhouse elevator. It took a lot less these days to make him winded. Add that to the possibility of losing Cajun to a claim and the prospect of Gloria’s ensuing reaction, and his chest was thumping already.
Where was his blood pressure medicine? He checked his pocket. He must have left it at home.
Dawn and Tom were on the fence with only a minute to post time when he finally joined them.
“You okay, old man?”
Ben scowled at him.
The horses were being led to the gate, so close they could smell the sweat and lather, and almost hear the horses’ hearts beating.
The first four loaded easily, Cajun being one of them. But the fifth, a large chestnut, balked and reared. It was then, and probably caused by the commotion of the gate crew forcing this horse into position, that the number two horse started acting up. His jockey came flying out the back of the gate, landed squarely on both feet, and immediately started limping.
A moment of temporary chaos followed. The number two horse was unloaded, examined, declared fit to run, and it was announced there would be a late rider change. The horses already loaded were backed out, the jock was helped off the racetrack, and the riderless horse was led back to the paddock to be resaddled.
Tom and Dawn jumped down off the fence support and turned to Ben. He shook his head and motioned to Cajun. Johnny was circling him behind the gate along with all the other horses delayed, but Cajun was the only one calm and collected, and gazing around as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Gloria probably thinks he’s looking for her.”
Dawn and Tom chuckled.
The drama ended then. The two horse reappeared. It loaded in turn, without incident this time, and the latch was sprung.
“And they’re off!”
It was Cajun’s race from start to finish, an easy pace, no early speed in the race, and a comfortable lead at the head of the stretch. He won by three lengths.
Ben and Tom just beamed. They knew he could run all day, and he proved them right. “How sweet it is!”
Gloria was ecstatic and Charlie as proud as can be. They assembled in the winner’s circle, had their picture taken, and Tom and Dawn headed toward the spit barn. It was then Ben caught a glimpse of the paddock judge. He hustled Gloria and her entourage on their way.
A claim was dropped. The paddock judge wouldn’t say who, but it came in too late and was disallowed. Ben relayed the information to Tom back at the barn.
“No shit? Now what?”
Ben shrugged.
“Did you tell Gloria?”
“No, and I’m not about to. I told Charlie.”
Dawn returned from the spit barn with Cajun a little while later and learned the news as well.
“I don’t like that man,” she said.
Ben smiled, reminding her that this was in fact how they had acquired Cajun. But it didn’t matter, not to her at least. “I still don’t like him.”
Randy walked in as Ben and Tom were discussing where to run Cajun next, and shook his head at Tom. He was scratching again.
“Hey, if you’re not going to go see a doctor, let me at least go get my magnifying glass and a pair of tweezers and take a look at it for you.”
“Fuck you!” Tom said, and the three of them laughed.
“Seriously...” Randy warned.
“I know, I know,” Tom said. Eventually he was going to have to go. But just the thought of it. “Maybe tomorrow.”
Randy sat down on the cot to wait for Dawn and yawned. “So Bud went for him, huh?”
Ben nodded. News traveled fast on the backside.
“What are you going to do?”
“Punt,” Ben said. They laughed again, and Randy closed his eyes. Dawn all but startled him a moment later.
“Have you seen Ginney?” she asked, walking into the tack room.
He stared. “No. Why?”
“We’re going to have to go find her before we leave.”
Randy got up and followed her out. “Why? Why do you worry about her?”
“I don’t know, I just do. Come on. Do you
know which barn’s theirs?”
Randy nodded, motioned for her to get in the truck, and climbed in behind the wheel. “You know, I don’t think she’d worry about you like this.”
“Maybe not,” Dawn said. “But that’s really not the point here, is it?”
Randy shook his head. “I wish you wouldn’t have anything to do with her. She’s nothing but trouble.”
“Oh?” Dawn looked at him. “Is that why you never had anything to do with her?”
Randy held up his hands and wisely chose to drop the subject.
Bud Meyers could be heard screaming at Ginney from two barns away. Dawn slipped her hand in Randy’s as they started down his shedrow.
“I told you I want you out of this barn! And out of the house!”
“I will leave! I just wanted to talk to you!”
“Fuck you! You lied to me! That horse could’ve won walking!”
“I didn’t want to lie to you!”
“Yeah, right!” Bud Meyers pointed vehemently behind her. “Because you got more goddamned loyalties to her!”
Ginney turned.
Dawn glanced from the man to Ginney. “We’re going now. Are you coming?”
“Yes.” Tears streamed down Ginney’s face. “He won’t listen anyway.”
Bud threw his hand up. “That’s right! Go shack up with them! You sons of bitches!”
Ginney swung around. “I’m not shacking up with them or anyone else! And don’t call her names! She’s not like me!”
“She’s not?! She’s whoring around with him, isn’t she?”
Randy started toward him, but Dawn grabbed his arm, held tight. “We’re not the issue here. Ginney is. Don’t.”
Ginney ran past them, sobbing.
“That’s right!” her father yelled. “Go on! You’re just like your mother! A slut!”
Randy turned to leave, but Dawn stood perfectly still, glaring at Bud Meyers. And still glaring, she approached the man. “Make no mistake about this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, face to face. “Because I don’t plan to repeat myself.”
Bud opened his mouth to object.
“You’re a sick man, and you’re allowing that sickness to destroy your daughter. You say Ginney is a slut. Well, I say you made her that way. And none of this, I mean none of this, phases your ex-wife one stinking bit!”
She turned from Bud’s stunned expression, and took about two steps toward Randy before swinging back around. “And make no mistake about this either. You ever call me a whore again, you will live the rest of your life regretting it. I promise you.”
As she took Randy’s hand, he was amazed. Amazed she’d confronted Bud like that. And amazed that Bud listened. But what amazed him most, was when she’d reached for his hand, his was trembling with anger. Hers was perfectly calm.
Dawn nudged Ginney to move over and got in next to her, while Randy walked around to the driver’s side, frowning at the seating arrangement.
Ginney was still crying. “God, I hate him.”
Dawn nodded, glancing at her. “Do you want to go get something to eat?”
“I need a drink.”
“Sounds good to me,” Randy said, agreeing, but feeling awkward and being careful to sit as close to his door as possible. “Where to?”
They went to the bar at The Rib, the jam-packed racetracker owned and frequented establishment across the street, where Ginney wasted no time. “Rum and coke and make it stiff.”
“Beer,” Randy said. He looked at Dawn; she nodded. “Two light drafts.”
Ginney wiped her eyes with a napkin and drew several deep breaths to try and compose herself. “So, what did you say to my dad anyway?”
Dawn shrugged. “Nothing really. I just...” She shook her head. “Nothing.”
Randy leaned back as the waitress put their drinks down and just marveled as he looked at Dawn. Nothing? He thought about what she’d said and the tone of her voice. “Make no mistake about this.” Such power, such confidence. So, so sure of herself. Bud Meyers never stood a chance. No wonder he listened.
When Ginney excused herself to go to the ladies room a few drinks later, Randy had to ask. He leaned close to Dawn and gently pushed her hair back off her cheek as she stared down at her hands. “Dawn, what you told Bud. Could you do that? Would you?”
Still focusing on her hands, Dawn nodded slowly, her voice taking on that same menacing tone. “In a New York minute.”
Randy turned her face toward his, and stared into Bask-Fioritto eyes for the first time. He swallowed hard, with no doubt whatsoever about what Bud Meyers had seen in them.
By the time they stood up to leave, Ginney had consumed six rum and Cokes, and Randy seven beers. Dawn had spent the entire time nursing two drafts and eating five bags of tortilla chips. As they started out, Bud Meyers rose from the far end of the bar. Dawn feared another confrontation between him and Ginney, but Bud said he just wanted to talk.
“What about?” Ginney asked defiantly.
Bud hesitated. “I want you to come home.”
Dawn glanced from one to the other, then at Randy. She hadn’t realized until now, but he was as buzzed as Ginney.
“You gonna yell at me again?” Ginney asked.
“No. Where’s your car?”
Ginney turned to Dawn then Randy, who just shrugged. He had no idea. And Dawn stepped closer. “Ginney, are you sure you want to go home? Because you don’t have to.”
“It’s okay.” Ginney staggered a little. “Dad don’t hurt me. He just yells at me.”
Dawn stepped back out of the way. “Her car’s still in the horsemen’s lot. It’s locked.”
Bud nodded, but wouldn’t look at her, and took Ginney by the arm to lead her out.
Dawn walked with Randy to his truck, and smiled when he stopped at the door and just stared. “Do you mind if I drive?” she asked.
“Your car?”
Dawn shook her head and reached into his pocket for his keys. “No, your truck. I’ll leave my car at the track.”
Randy bowed and raised his hands. “Anything you say, Princess Fioritto.”
Dawn laughed. “Do you get crazy when you’re drunk?”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Right.” Dawn unlocked the passenger door and watched in amusement as he poured himself into the seat. “You’re slurring.”
“I aaam not.”
Dawn smiled and kissed him. “I think you need to eat something.”
“Fine...show the wave.”
Dawn shook her head and laughed. “On second thought, maybe we ought to just go home. Heaven forbid someone should see you like this.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Randy spent the following morning regretting the night before. He couldn’t remember even leaving The Rib, let alone how he got to Dawn’s apartment, and nursed a hangover until well past noon. When he finally finished morning rounds and made his way to the Miller barn, Dawn was just about to leave and added to his anguish.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I think I’ll make it.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
“Why?” Randy frowned. “What do you mean? You were fine.”
Dawn started past him into the tack room. “I have cramps.”
Cramps? Randy turned. Stared. Again he tried to remember. “I don’t suppose we uh...?”
Dawn chuckled. “Last night? No.”
Randy sighed. Wonderful. Cindy’s wedding was only three days away. No sex now and none then. He followed Dawn inside. “Wait a minute. Cramps as in getting my period? Or cramps as in I already got it?”
Dawn laughed. “Already got it.” She shook her head, sat down on the cot to make a list, and smiled at him when he sat down next to her. “Of all days too. I’m meeting Linda for lunch; then she and I are going shopping.”
Randy nodded, wallowing in his self pity.
“Do you need anything?”
When Randy just looked at her,
Dawn laughed. “From the mall,” she specified. “From the mall.”
Randy shook his head.
“Then leave, so I can lock up.” She made one last notation and folded her list. “I have to go by and see Ginney before I leave. Did you see her this morning?”
“No...” Randy said, refusing to budge. “Nor did I care to look.”
Dawn frowned. “Randy, come on. Don’t make me sorry I waited for you.”
Randy looked at her, registered what she’d just said, and smiled. This was a first. “You waited for me?”
Dawn reached for his hand and pulled him to his feet. “Yes, now come on, or I’m going to lock you in here.”
“Fine with me. Just make sure you let me out in five or six days.”
Dawn laughed and in a very uncharacteristic show of affection, hugged him. “What do you want to do tonight?”
Randy sighed and brushed his lips against her hair. “I don’t know.” With this, they made plans to do nothing, absolutely nothing, except maybe Chinese food and television, and then went their separate ways.
When Dawn walked under the shedrow of Bud Meyers’ barn, she could see Ginney at the other end holding a horse for her father, who was swearing up a storm while trying to dab ointment on a cut on the inside of one of its hind legs. Dawn motioned she’d wait for her up at this end. After a few minutes, Ginney walked down.
“All that, and wouldn’t you know the goddamned thing rubbed it right off.”
Dawn smiled. “So how is everything?”
Ginney hesitated. “Okay.”
“Okay...?” Dawn searched her eyes.
Ginney nodded, then shrugged. “It’s weird. He never said anything last night, but this morning we talked. I mean, we actually talked.”
Dawn acknowledged this apparent rarity with supportive silence as Ginney continued. “He’s trying to see things from my point of view. Of course, that means I have to try and do the same. Me and Mom have embarrassed him a lot.”
Dawn studied her face and smiled.
Ginney laughed then. “You know, he thinks you’re a witch. It’s true. A real live, honest-to-God witch. He says there’s something about your eyes.” Both of them laughed. “He really believes it too. He’s been knocking on wood all morning.”
Winning Odds Trilogy Page 27