Winning Odds Trilogy

by MaryAnn Myers

  “I’m the General Manager,” Richard said. “This is my wife, Heather.”

  “I work with Hospice,” Heather said. “Nottingham Downs saved our marriage.”

  Wendy looked at her, the two of them smiling. “Nottingham Downs saved my life.”

  Tom looked up from eating. “I pony horses.”

  Everyone laughed, as usual whenever he said that.

  “Junior says you’re about done ponying,” Charlie said.

  Tom shook his head. “I’m gonna smack that boy.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Matthew and Gordon raised their hands. “We’re Wendy and Tom’s.”

  Susie had already met Randy and Dawn, along with Carol and the children earlier in the evening at their house.

  “I’m George. I’m the farm manager. This is my wife, Glenda. I’ve known Ben and Tom and Dusty forever. We’ve been here at the farm for years now.”

  Glenda smiled. “We were both trainers. We went from the trotters to Thoroughbreds.”

  “I am the conscience of the racetrack and I live here at “Meg’s Meadows,” Dusty said, emphasizing the new farm name. “And as of today, I own a pretty little filly named Bonnie Bee.”

  Matthew smiled, sharing the story. “Hillary says she’s happy here.”

  “Hillary?” Gloria asked. “Who’s Hillary?”

  “Oh, long story,” Dawn said. “A young activist, animal communicator. She has a gift for sensing what horses think and feel.”

  “Which reminds me,” Matthew said. “She says Biscuit will need constant reassurance of ‘love.’”

  “Don’t we all,” Heather said. When everyone nodded, Maeve looked around the room and nodded too. Not to be outdone, D.R. then nodded, and with great conviction. Randy ruffled his carrot-top hair and tickled Maeve’s nose.

  Dawn looked at Matthew. “Did she say he was unhappy?”

  “No, just that he’d need reassurance that we all love him, that in the back of his mind he has doubts. She says he’s older than we think and he worries that that’s going to matter somehow?”

  “Oh, how sad,” Dawn said. She looked at Randy. “How old is he?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned to Mark. “Do you have your Smartphone with you?”

  Mark laughed. “No, but I’m pretty good at judging.”

  “Good.” Randy looked at George. “When did we have him floated last?”

  “About six months ago. His teeth were fine. I never thought to ask about his age.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Señor said. “I’ve got good teeth.”

  Everyone laughed. “I’m Randy’s father, Dawn’s father-in-law. Liz and I also have a daughter Cindy, who will be moving here next year and hopefully go into practice with Randy and Mark.”

  All eyes fell on Liz. “I’m Randy’s mother and grandmother to these two darling children. I’m looking forward to when Cindy and her husband Marvin move here. I love living here at Meg’s Meadows.”

  Carol smiled. “I’m the nanny. I came into this family by way of Dawn and Randy, and everyone here is my family now. I love them all, even those dogs out there.”

  Everyone turned and laughed. All six dogs were sitting at attention outside the screen door.

  “I don’t know who ever started feeding them table scraps,” Ben said.

  Everyone laughed again. “You!”

  Ben shook his head. “I’d also like to know how they know we’re done eating.”

  “Because it’s time for dessert,” George said.

  They all helped clear dishes and sat back down with banana cream pie and coffee.

  “You eat this way every night?” Susie asked.

  “Not every night,” Dawn said. “Just most nights.”

  “This is the Meg’s Meadows commune,” Dusty said.

  Wendy laughed. “When I first came on the scene I was so obsessed with not eating, I feared I was going to get kicked out of the fold. Up until that point, I don’t think I even enjoyed food. I was always so afraid of being overweight.”

  “I don’t eat much,” Gloria said, fork in hand.

  “How do you figure out who cooks what?” Susie asked.

  “Well, we usually just take turns. Someone does the main dish most often, and then we all bring sides. Cost-wise, we probably save money eating all together,” Liz said. “We can buy bulk this way. Which reminds me, I talked to Vicky today about doing their shopping for them. When I go do ours, I’ll just stop and get their list.”

  Susie smiled. “Is theirs a separate operation?”

  “Well,” Wendy said. “The idea is for them to be self-supporting. That’s how they wanted it set up. They take great pride in that. We do too.”

  “See what I told you,” Mark said. “You’re going to love it here. These are your kind of people.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Nottingham Downs didn’t make the Morning Banter headline, but did make the Sports page. “Beau All Together Favored to Win the Burgundy Blue Stake.”

  “Ah, Jesus, they’re starting already,” Ben said, sitting in the tack room. “It’s a jinx. The race is six days away. I hate this. It’s just like with the Derby. I knew better than to second-guess myself.”

  Tom stared at the training chart. “Two to gallop, three to walk. Let’s get going.” They were all superstitious. If something bad happened to Bo-T, chances are his stallion career would be gone as well. Plus there was no way to just change their minds at this point without a lot of scrutiny. It had been rather nice the past few days not getting negative press.

  Dusty walked down to Gulliver’s barn, fed the horse, stood talking with Gulliver for a moment, and then headed off to the ReHab barn to set up the stall for the horse.

  “The Secretary’s office is officially open for entries,” Joe Feigler announced over the loudspeaker. “Come on over.”

  After Dusty squared everything at the ReHab barn, he started making his rounds through the barn area. He heard quite a few comments and suggestions about the claiming race issue. As was his usual routine, he would hold a horse for a trainer, give an exercise rider a leg-up, just sit and talk a minute or two with a trainer, feel things out, look things over. He once had a trainer accuse him of having eagle eyes, but added, “In a good way.” Dusty didn’t miss much.

  He and Ben met up at the kitchen after the track closed for training and had a cup of coffee. There was plenty of coffee back at the barn, but their being here was also a way of listening to the other trainers, owners, and grooms about current issues. It was also a time they enjoyed, one-on-one as two old-timers themselves. Brownie, the owner of the kitchen, sat down with them, another old-timer. These three weren’t ones to dwell on the past. They were more interested in the way they could help things be today.

  Several trainers pulled up chairs to join them. They talked about horses. They talked about food. They talked about the weather. When Dusty glanced at his watch; time to meet Randy and move the horse out of Gulliver’s barn, the party broke up and they all went back to work.

  Randy blocked the horse’s leg, so it wouldn’t feel any pain and wrapped it tight. Gulliver went along with Dusty and the horse to the ReHab barn. The horse walked as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Gulliver had one hand resting gently on the horse’s withers. The necessary paperwork had all been finalized and Dusty had already put the word out that the horse needed long-term rehab and a home. He led the horse into his new stall, bed deep in straw and turned him around and took his halter off. Randy redid the bandage, not as tightly this time, and the three men stood looking in at the horse.

  “Wish I had a magic wand,” Randy said.

  “I don’t know, Randy. I think you come pretty close,” Dusty said.

  “Thank you,” Randy said, patting both men on the back. “You two make me proud.” He left them and checked in at the Miller barn. They were still doing horses up, still had one on the walking machine.

  Ben picked his keys up off his desk and walked out into the shedrow
. “I think I’m going to go on home and watch Bo-T and B-Bo gallop. If I don’t come back, don’t worry about me.”

  “You all right, old man?” Tom asked.

  “Yes.” Ben nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Dawn, Randy, and Tom exchanged concerned glances.

  “You sure?” Dawn asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Ben said, making an effort to smile reassuringly. “I’ll see you all at the farm.”

  Tom looked at Dawn and Randy after he left. “Was that weird?”

  They both nodded.

  “I wonder if all of this is just too much for him anymore,” Tom said.

  “Well, we can always tell him that and piss him off good. That’ll get his fire back!” Randy said.

  Dawn and Tom laughed.

  Ben stopped to talk to Jason at the guard shack on his way out. “How long have you been here?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

  “Full-time? Well, since Charlie left. I was part-time until then. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I’m guess I’m wondering what you think about the way things are going?”

  “Well, I think things are headed in the right direction if you want to stay open.”

  Ben looked at him.

  Jason shrugged. “You asked.”

  “Yes, I did,” Ben said, nodding. “Thank you.”

  On the way home, Ben stopped at the grocery store for some liverwurst. He had a taste for a liverwurst and onion sandwich and couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. He honked and waved to the old-timers when he passed T-Bone’s place and checked in with George in the main barn, who appeared surprised to see him.

  “You okay?”

  “Yessss,” Ben said, shaking his head. “What is it with everyone asking me if I’m okay? I’m okay.”

  “Good,” George said. “Then get out of my way. I have things to do.”

  Ben laughed. “How are the boys today?”

  “Well, Bo-T chased me out of the stall and B-Bo’s taken two naps already today. And talk about snore….”

  Ben chuckled. Randy had scoped B-Bo several times over the years just to make sure everything was okay in the breathing department. The horse obviously just liked to snore. He liked to nap a lot too, flat out on his side.

  “I’ll see you later,” Ben said, turning. “There’s obviously nothing for me to do here either.”

  “Wait, Ben. There is,” George said.

  Ben stopped and looked back. “What’s that?”

  “Keeping us together. You’re the reason we’re all here.”

  Ben smiled. “Wait a minute. Did Dawn call you?”

  “Yes, and Randy and Tom and Wendy too.”

  Ben smiled. “Ah, see. I do have some usefulness. I’m keeping everyone on their toes with worry.”

  George laughed. “Junior will be here about two-thirty.” He looked in at B-Bo, buckling his knees and going down for another nap.

  “I’ll see you then.” Ben walked up to the house to make his sandwich. Much like the potted meat sandwich last week, liverwurst didn’t taste quite as good as he remembered. He ate it all anyway, put on his walking shoes, and headed outside and down the driveway. The maple leaves were just starting to turn. He patted the top of the Meg’s Meadows farm sign and decided to turn right instead of left and walked alongside the road taking in the sights.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been down this way. It had probably been years. Everything in his life apparently seemed to come and go from the other direction. A young neighbor woman, dressed to ride, had just checked her mailbox and waited for him.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hi, I’m Ben Miller from…”

  “From Meg’s Meadows. Yes, I know. I love your new sign. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She shook Ben’s hand. “We’ve been neighbors a long time.”

  “Oh?”

  “My husband and I have lived here about five years now.”

  “Well, I’ll be,” Ben said. “Nice place.” The house was big and modern, nice big barn, indoor arena. “Well, I’d best be on my way.”

  “Bye, Mr. Miller.”

  “Ben,” he said. “My wife’s name was Meg.”

  The woman waved and watched him for a moment. “I like your shoes!”

  Ben laughed. “Me too. Have a good day!” He walked for quite a while, maybe a mile, maybe two, and decided to turn back at the crossroad. He switched over to the other side, saw all sorts of new scenery; a little cottage way back in the woods, a ranch house with a huge wind turbine out back, a cow and a rooster. He glanced ahead and saw Junior’s truck turn into the driveway. Perfect timing.

  ~ * ~

  Mark and Randy met up at the Brubaker barn and after treating a horse there, went up to the track kitchen for a late lunch. They sat down in front of one of the monitors and watched the running of the third race, then sorted out the rest of the day’s calls and had a second cup of coffee. Jackson came and got a burger and hot tea and sat down a few tables away.

  “Hey,” he said, nodding to Randy

  Randy nodded back.”Everything okay?”

  “Yep, everything’s great.”

  Randy lowered his voice and brought Mark up to date on Jackson’s horse.

  “And he’s sound?” Mark looked at the man.

  “Apparently,” Randy said.

  “He’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be?” Jackson asked, having heard every word.

  Mark shrugged. He wasn’t going to say, because I examined him twice last week and he looked like he wanted to die, even though that’s what he was thinking.

  Jackson took a big bite of his burger. “I’ll probably enter him tomorrow. He’s kicking the barn down.”

  Randy and Mark both raised their eyebrows.

  “That’s how I know,” he said, sipping his hot tea. “If there’s anything I know, I know my horse.”

  Both Mark and Randy nodded. What was there to say? They looked at the monitor as it played a video of Bo-T galloping at the farm. “I saw it yesterday,” Jackson said. “He looks great! Wish they’d stop talking about him in the paper. It’s bad luck. Remember that Turn To colt some years back. Papers talked about him way too much. They put the jinx on him.”

  Randy sighed. He’d had to put the horse down that day.

  “If I had my say, I’d forbid the newspapers from talking about him. Yep, that’s what I’d do. ‘Course then you’d have people saying that wasn’t right and they’d write about that and then talk some more.”

  Dusty came in the door and walked over to Randy and Mark’s table. He nodded to Jackson. “Hey, how is everything?”

  “Good, good.” Jackson held up his tea cup. “Couldn’t be better.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. All’s well that ends well, eh?”

  Jackson nodded, downed the rest of his tea, and left.

  “Have you seen Ben? I can’t find him anywhere?”

  “He went home. He says he went to watch Bo-T and B-Bo gallop and wouldn’t be back.”

  “Well, that’s odd. Is he okay?”

  “That’s what Tom and Dawn and I were wondering.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with him?” Mark asked.

  Dusty and Randy just sat there.

  “Is he sick?”

  “No,” Randy said. “He just had cataract surgery, but aside from that and needing the other one done now, he’s fine.”

  Mark looked from one to the other.

  “He had a stroke a few years back,” Dusty said.

  “But you wouldn’t know it unless we told you,” Randy said. “He recovered remarkably well for his age.”

  “So you worry about him because…?”

  Randy looked at him and then smacked him on the arm, laughing. “Get outta here! Who asked you? Don’t you have anything to do?”

  Mark laughed. “I’ll see you later.”

  Dusty and Randy looked at one another after he left.

  “I think we owe Ben an apology.”

  “I thin
k you’re right,” Dusty said. “It’s one thing to worry about him and quite another to hover over him all the time. Which reminds me, I keep thinking about what Hillary said to Matthew about Biscuit. I think we need to realize that horses, whether they can communicate or not, have feelings. I mean, think about it. People fear when they get old what’s going to happen to them, who’s going to care for them, or if being old will be their downfall?”

  Randy nodded. “I’ve known horses that I swear no sooner have they eaten, they start fretting over their next meal. Seriously. They watch the corner for more hay. They check their feed tubs. They live in the now as far as reacting, but I think there is so much more that goes on in their heads. They worry and they wonder. And it’s not just fright and flight. It’s honest to God feelings.” Randy chuckled. “Oh listen to me.”

  “No, I agree,” Dusty said. “I’m a believer.”

  ~ * ~

  Ben walked up the hill with Matthew behind Bo-T and Junior to the training track. Liz waved from their porch.

  “We’re at your place tonight, Ben.”

  “What are we having?”

  “Dawn’s slumgullian.”

  “Wonderful!” he said. It was everyone’s favorite.

  “What’s for dessert?” Matthew asked.

  “Dirt cake.”

  “Oh baby,” Matthew said.

  Ben laughed. “Watch, watch,” he said, nudging Matthew back. “He’s thinking about pitching a fit.”

  “How can you tell?” He knew about a horse pinning its ears when it was unhappy or mad, but pitching a fit?

  “Just watch him. Look at his eyes.”

  They were wide open, the sclera about the pupils showing all around and white. Just then, Bo-T hopped sky-high in the air and bucked and kicked and squealed. “If we make it to the race Saturday it’s going to be a miracle,” Ben said. “Get after him!”

  Junior chuckled and urged the colt into a trot onto the training track in front of the assembled crowd. Ben sat on the newly constructed lower rung of the bleachers next to Steven and Frank. Vicky and Lucy were on the top rung. Mim had Miguel, Bill, and Jack on the golf cart with her. Clint and Jeanne were in their wheelchairs on the other side.