Winning Odds Trilogy

by MaryAnn Myers

  Randy walked up next to Ben, patted the old man on the shoulder, and Ben shrugged, wiping his eyes. Dawn saw him standing there, and shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Randy hesitated. “Because odds were, she wouldn’t make it. As it was, we came close to losing her twice.”

  Ben nodded, and took out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

  “But what about at the cabin? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

  Randy didn’t answer right away. “Partly because she wasn’t out of the woods yet at the time. But mostly because I wanted you to face things, this...us, you and me, as it was.”

  Dawn shook her head, smiled, and hugged the filly again. “Do you think she remembers me?”

  Ben laughed. “I don’t know, but I’ll bet she remembers Randy.”

  Randy nodded. “She’s only now getting around to forgiving me. Aren’t you, girl?”

  When the filly pinned her ears, they all laughed. “That’s all right,” Randy said. “Come spring, she’ll thank me.”

  Dawn looked at him and knew that he was referring to breeding her to Beau and glanced at the filly’s ankle. “Will she be all right?”

  Randy nodded. “I think so. She’ll never have any flexibility in that joint, but she’ll get around well enough.”

  “And won’t they be something when they get to the track,” Ben said, referring to their offspring. “They’ll be some class there.”

  Randy agreed and looked at Dawn. “It’s a shame you won’t be there to see them.”

  “Oh, she’ll be there,” Ben said. “We covered that earlier. She’ll be back.”

  Randy’s expression was anything but surprised. As he examined the filly’s ankle, Dawn wanted to know the details and how all this came about.

  “Well,” Randy said. “Ben had made up his mind and then...” It was when he’d walked back in and sat down and they’d talked more.

  “We decided if we were going to do it,” Ben explained, “with all the risks we were facing, it would have to be without you knowing about it. It was the only way.”

  Dawn shook her head. “But where did you take her?”

  “Out to the Durans’,” Randy said, “for a week or so. Then here. Which reminds me, I just came from there. They’ve had it with that black colt and want to sell him. You might want to take a look at him,” he told Ben.

  “Why? How’s he bred?”

  “Common.”

  Ben laughed. “Then why would I want to look at him?”

  “Because he owes me,” Randy said.

  “He’s the one that broke Randy’s arm,” Dawn added. “He’s put together really nice. He’s just mean.”

  “You say he’s still a colt?” Ben asked.

  Randy nodded. “Yeah, and that’s half his problem.”

  Ben sat in the jeep as Randy jogged the horse back and forth twice. “You’re right, you really can’t fault him. Though I do wish he were a little taller.”

  “He is pretty, from a distance.” Dawn said, somewhat apprehensively.

  “Jog him again,” Ben said, and pointed something else out.

  “What?”

  “Look at his hoof prints. I like that in a horse. He’s as wide in front as he is in back.”

  Dawn smiled, asked Mr. Duran the colt’s name, and Ben rolled his eyes.

  “Shadow Pine?” She loved it.

  “Yep, Shadow Pine.” Mr. Duran chuckled, said he liked it too, and it was time to talk business. He looked at Ben. “Well?”

  “How much are you asking for him?”

  “Ten thousand, exactly what I paid for him, even though I have a whole year in him, and half a barn’s reconstruction.”

  Ben laughed, and just about then, the colt cow-kicked and just missed clipping the jeep. “All right, we’ll take him.”

  “You and me?” Dawn asked.

  Ben nodded. “Equal partners. All right?”

  “All right. Why not?”

  Ben told Mr. Duran he’d have a check sent over tomorrow. Mr. Duran went to break the news to his wife, whom he suspected deep down would be greatly relieved. And Ben looked at Randy.

  “First chance you get, Doc,” he said. “Cut him.”

  Randy grinned. “My pleasure.”

  Under the tree Christmas morning, Dawn found several boxes wrapped in the Sunday comics. A very small box was the first she opened. It was an engagement ring, a diamond solitaire set in white gold.

  “Do you like it?” Randy asked.

  She slipped it on her finger. “I love it.”

  He smiled.

  “I love you.”

  “Open the rest,” he said, and told her he picked everything out himself. Two sweaters, one Kelly green, and the other white, both a perfect fit. “All right, so Miss Diane helped me a little with the size,” he confessed. And cologne, Chantilly, and pearl earrings. Then it was his turn.

  “Come on, open them,” Dawn said, when he kept picking up the boxes, shaking them, and turning them upside down. “That one first.”

  He, also, got a sweater and tried it on, and socks, a pen set, and a digital watch, which he set five minutes fast right off the bat, and that left just one more gift. Dawn handed him a tiny box and a card.

  “What’s this?” he said. “Do I get an engagement ring too?”

  Dawn shook her head and smiled. “Open the present first.”

  Randy unwrapped it carefully, looked to see what it was, and gazed at her. “Keys?”

  “Read the card,” she said.

  He opened the envelope, took out the card, and inside found the title to the Jaguar, in his name. He smiled. “I guess it’s official then. We’re getting married.”

  At the ten-minute call for the fifth race, Dawn returned from the ladies room, having lost count of how many trips she’d already made that day. It was the third week of racing, the barn was full, and Shadow Pine, the black gelding she and Ben owned together was going to make his maiden debut. He wasn’t the favorite, but he had a shot, Ben said, and just might run off and hide.

  “No, I’m going to run off and hide,” Dawn said, and Tom laughed.

  “Let’s go get them.” He climbed up on Red, took Shadow Pine’s reins, and Dawn followed them to the paddock. This would be the first horse Ben saddled since his recovery, and according to him, some things you just don’t forget.

  Shadow Pine was still a little feisty, but knew how to behave by now, thanks to being schooled by Tom on more than one occasion, and aside from breaking out in a sweat, stood like an old pro in the paddock. Johnny came out of the jocks’ room and huddled close to Ben.

  “Well?”

  Ben looked at him. “Go to the front and take the horse with you.”

  Johnny laughed. “Got it.”

  “Riders up!”

  Dawn led Shadow Pine out to where Tom was waiting, climbed up onto the fence, looked to see if Randy’s truck was by the kitchen, and smiled. Ben walked down to join her at two minutes to post and glanced at the tote board as the seconds ticked away. The horses were loaded, the jocks adjusted their goggles, and Dawn held her breath.

  Shadow Pine’s odds flashed seven to two.

  “And they’re off!”

  Odds On Favorite

  Book Two of the Winning Odds Series

  ~ * ~

  Chapter One

  Who would have believed it? Dawn and Randy now have two children. Ben Miller is the picture of health, even at his age. Beau Born was named the leading sire of winning two-year olds in Ohio last year. And Tom got religion. “Praise the Lord!” It was practically a perfect world until today.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Bud Gipson, the track announcer said, his voice trembling. “It is with a heavy heart that I inform you of the upcoming closing of Nottingham Downs.” He paused to clear his throat. “Our last day of racing will be this coming Saturday. We want to thank you for your patronage and support these past sixty-two years, and wish you well.”

  “What th
e hell?” Tom said. It was already Thursday and this was the first anyone on the track had even heard mention of this, anyone aside from the powers-that-be in the upper office that is. “I’ll tell you why they didn’t say anything sooner.” Tom nodded knowingly. “They wouldn’t have filled a damned race for Saturday. It’d be a stampede to get outta here.”

  A blanket of silence spread across the entire backside. This announcement would not only affect the owners and the trainers, the grooms and the horses, but all the other racetrack employees, and the vendors, the public, the surrounding businesses, the veterinarians.

  Randy pulled up next to the barn in his truck and sat behind the wheel looking at Ben and Tom. “Can you believe this?”

  “Bastards,” Tom said. “The sons of bitches.”

  Ben sighed. “At this church you go to, do they allow you to swear like that? Aren’t you disobeying a commandment or something?”

  Tom shrugged. “Joke all you want, old man. This is serious shit.”

  “Where’s Dawn?” Randy asked.

  “I don’t know. She was here just a minute ago.”

  “Tell her I’ll be back in about an hour. We’re supposed to go to lunch.”

  Ben nodded.

  “Are you okay?” Randy asked, hesitating.

  Another nod. Ben always knew one day he’d have to retire. In the midst of his having that stroke some years back, he’d worried it would be then. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m too old to pull up roots now.” He had no desire to relocate to another racetrack.

  Dawn came around the corner, looking as if she’d seen a ghost. A child perched precariously on each of those skinny hips of hers. “Here, go to Daddy,” she said, handing first one to Randy and then the other. “Linda’s in labor. I have to go.”

  “What about lunch?”

  “What about labor coaching?”

  Randy smiled. “Where’s Harland?”

  “Down-under.”

  Tom made googley faces at the children, both hugging their daddy. Randy Jr., nicknamed “D.R.” by Ben, just turned three last week. Little Maeve was eighteen-months old. They both had lots of auburn hair like their mother.

  “Where’s Carol?” Carol was their nanny.

  “In Flagstaff. Gees, Randy, don’t you remember anything?”

  Randy chuckled, giving kisses to both his children. “Bad daddy.”

  “Did you hear the news?” Tom asked.

  “What news?” Dawn gathered up sweaters, toys, Maeve’s diaper bag.

  “Just now, over the p.a.”

  Dawn shook her head. A minute ago she was changing Maeve’s diaper and singing along, “I love you, you love me….” It’s hard to hear anything but D.R. when he’s singing that song. He sings it at the top of his lungs.

  “They’re closing the track.”

  “What? Why? Was there an accident?”

  “No, I mean for good,” Tom said. “As of this Saturday.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  Tom shook his head.

  Dawn turned to Ben and then Randy. Both shook their heads. “Can they do that?” she asked. “How can they do that? Where will everyone go?”

  “It’s a cinch not Mountaineer. They’re fucking full.”

  “Tom….” Dawn sighed. “The children.”

  “Sorry, kids,” he said.

  The children weren’t paying any attention at the moment. But, just last week D.R. piped up with a doozy of a swear word at his birthday party and everyone in attendance pointed a finger at Tom.

  “I gotta go.” Dawn kissed Randi good-bye and left.

  With the initial shock of the announcer’s news escalating into a near panic, it wasn’t long before the secretary’s office was overflowing with bodies, elbow to elbow. It looked like something right out of the Depression era - the racing secretary Joe Feigler resembling George Bailey outside the bank trying to calm an angry mob in the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

  “Settle down. We will be posting a complete explanation in the HBPA office within the hour.”

  “What about our money?”

  Winning purses took three days to clear.

  “Are you going to be here Sunday morning or will the offices be locked up and empty?”

  “We’ll be here.”

  “How can we be sure? You’ve been lying all along.”

  “Now wait a minute. That’s not fair and you know it! You all aren’t the only ones having the rugs pulled out from under you. We’re in the same boat as you.”

  “Oh yeah? Well I’m floating a little dinghy and you’re sitting on a big-ass yacht. Who do you think’s going to sink faster?” one of the old-time trainers said. “What the hell’s going on here?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say, but let me reassure you….”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Why weren’t we told of this sooner?”

  “Where are we supposed to go?”

  “What are we supposed to do?”

  “Damn you!”

  The racing secretary took a step back. “Again, as I said. There will be an explanation posted in the HBPA office in about an hour. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?”

  “Yes. And remember, I am only the messenger here. This was not my decision. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Yeah, well let me tell you something,” another trainer said.

  “No, Dave. Just listen. It wasn’t but ten years ago, I was training here as well. You all remember that. So I know how you feel.”

  “No, you used to know how we feel.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” Joe sighed in frustration. “But if it’ll make you all feel any better, I just found out this morning myself.”

  A momentary hush fell over the room, one that seemed to summarize the belief that he was telling the truth. “What are we going to do, Joe?” asked Jeannie Simpson, the leading woman trainer for the past six years. “Where do we go from here?”

  The racing secretary shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Ben had been quiet up until this point. “Joe, why don’t you just tell us what’s going to be posted in an hour?” Everyone nodded in support of that.

  “I would if I could, Ben. But I’ll be reading it for the first time right along with you.”

  “Well then,” Ben said. “I guess we’ll see you over there.”

  When the infamous hour came, Dawn was across town, doing her very best to try to make Linda as comfortable as possible. She placed pillows where they helped, cool washcloths for her neck and forehead, soothing words of encouragement. Her cousin was eight centimeters dilated and understandably rather anxious to get this delivery over with. Dawn relied on stories of their childhood to help take her mind off her contractions.

  “Do you remember the time we ran away to the basement?”

  Linda laughed and then grimaced - another contraction on the horizon.

  “Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.”

  “I can’t stand this,” Linda said, on the downside of that one. “Tell me it doesn’t get any worse.”

  “Okay, it doesn’t get any worse.”

  “Are you lying?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Oh, God!”

  Dawn mopped her brow. “Come on, you’re doing great! You’re almost there. Right?” She turned to the nurse and midwife. Both nodded. Thank heaven. “Okay, so we ran away to the basement and….”

  “We called and ordered takeout Chinese. And when it came, Dad brought it down to us.”

  Dawn laughed. Linda laughed.

  “Do you remember why we ran away?”

  Linda shook her head.

  “Me neither.”

  “Oh no.” The start of another contraction.

  “Breathe…. That’s it, breathe…. Breathe….”

  “All right,” the midwife said, with that contraction over and upon exam. Ten centimeters. “It’s showtime!”

  ”I’m scared,” Linda said. “Can we hold off a minute?”

&
nbsp; Dawn smiled supportively. “I remember feeling the exact same way.”

  The midwife adjusted the lights, softening them, and softened the surround-sound music. How apropos that Linda’s favorite classical song was playing. “The Blue Danube.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can. You’re doing it now.”

  “All right, when I say push, I want you to….”

  “Ohhh…..”

  “Okay, go ahead and push. That’s good. That’s good. You’re doing good, very good. Okay, okay, let’s take a break.”

  Dawn leaned close to Linda’s ear. “Think of the names. Alice Marie, if it’s a girl, Harland Matthew, if it’s a boy. “

  Linda nodded, panting, waiting for the okay to push again. “How much longer?”

  Dawn glanced anxiously at the midwife. The woman smiled. “We’ve crowned.”

  “It will all be over in a few minutes.”

  “A few minutes?!”

  “Minutes are seconds.”

  “Writer! Words!”

  Dawn smiled, wiping her cousin’s forehead.

  “All right, you’re going to push again. Remember to push from the waist down. Remember to swallow, no tightening up. That’s good. Let’s push!”

  “I’m going to scream! I’m going to scream - I’m going to scream - I’m going to scream!” Linda said, her voice getting louder and louder.

  “Go ahead, scream. Scream ‘I am about to become a mother.’”

  “I’m about to become a mother!”

  “Say it again and push!”

  “I am about to become a mother!!”

  “Push a little more! There you go! There you go!”

  “Oh my God! This hurts so bad!”

  “One more. Shout for the world to hear.”

  “I am about to become a mother!!!”

  “Yes!” The midwife said, smiling. “Yes! I’ve got the head. Rest a second.” She and the nurse cleared the baby’s mouth and nose.

  “Breathe,” Dawn coached. “Breathe. You’re doing awesome.”

  “All right, we’re going to go for the shoulder. The first one you’ll feel, the second one, will be a piece of cake.”