by Andrea Young
“Okay, you heard her. Can’t say we didn’t give her a chance.”
Another voice sang out, “Line ’em up!” Within seconds the horses were in what constituted a line in an illegal back-alley race. Finny moved to the middle of the pack, took one more look at Joe, then patted Sky. His ears were perked, his body was tense; he knew the show was on and he felt ready. The whistle blew. Twenty-four horses blasted off into the night.
Sky burst forward underneath her. He was bred to run and his instincts were kicking in. It was all Finny could do to control him. Sky wanted the front. Finny needed the middle, not too fast, not too slow. She watched the riders around her. Some dashed off, and some were purposely hanging back. The first leg of the race was to set pace to get the horses’ rhythm. The all-out run would come later. The farther they ran the more the herd thinned. Finny saw she was surrounded, just short of being boxed in by four other riders. She tested her theory by trying to pull out, only to be cut off. A few things went through her mind. Were they that worried about her, or just completely ensuring her loss? She actually found it funny and knew they’d be in for a big surprise. Horses typically don’t like hitting each other or banging into things, especially as they run. Sky was a bully—not only didn’t he mind, she was pretty sure he liked it.
Finny pulled left, purposely going wide. She heard the men yelling, signaling. It made her smile—going wide was a sure way to lose, but Finny was close to changing course anyway. It was time to get out of the box. She kicked Sky toward the gap. She locked her eye on the cowboy ahead of her, who continually looked over his shoulder to watch her move over. His ninehundred-pound, 15.2-hand horse didn’t know what hit him when Sky, almost twice his size, bashed into his hindquarters and shoved him out of the way. The horse, scrambling hard to stay on its feet, dropped back fast.
Now clear of the box, Sky’s rhythm was steady when they hit the dirt parking lot. This was a race of opportunity; your path was your own. Horses were wildly zigzagging between parked cars and around concrete barriers. Finny heard whistles and shouting; she was sure those were signals between the men.
Sky’s giant stride opened up underneath her. He was tugging away at her arms, begging her to let him gallop all out. They were approaching the fence that surrounded the parking lot. The other horses ran to the right to the open gate. Finny didn’t bother—the fence was less than four feet, a breeze for Sky. He sailed over it. This put her ahead of several of the riders. Again more shouts. Finny was staying wide, not the best route if you planned to win. Several riders were still with her and they shouldn’t have been. She realized they were only there to make sure she’d lose. She kicked Sky forward and let him run all out. She hadn’t planned on using his remarkable speed, but she knew she had to get far away from those men. She had no intention of letting anyone get close enough to put a rope around her or Sky’s legs. She stood in her stirrups and grabbed Sky’s mane and kicked him on. It took all she had to hang on as he exploded forward. The men fell behind her quickly and disappeared into the dark.
She was almost to the train tracks now, almost to the pivotal point in her plan. She wasn’t going to run the mile down the ravine under the train tracks as intended, then back up on the other side to race home. She was going to cut off more than a mile by jumping over the tracks. Up ahead, right before the ground ended and the bridge began, the mountain was cut away for the train to pass through. The expanse was wide, too wide for any horse, except Sky wasn’t just any horse.
Finny pictured him jumping that culvert at Silver Spur, at least fifteen feet, easy. This gap, wide enough for a train, looked almost twice that.
Well ahead of the riders that were out to stop her, Finny knew she had time to line up for the jump. She got to the top and pulled Sky up. She could just make out two riders already down in the ravine, but they weren’t going anywhere. That’s why she had been allowed to ride her path; they’d watched her so they’d know where she’d go and when to ambush her. She couldn’t believe how right Joe was, how devious his uncle was.
Finny trotted Sky to the gap and nudged him toward it. He went to the edge and stopped hard. He stuck his head down and raked the ground with his hoof several times. Finny used to think this was a sign that he was irritated, but she knew now it was Sky thinking, figuring things out. Finny looked across the divide. It was shockingly big. If they missed, they would fall thirty feet to the tracks below. She pushed that image out of her mind. Sky wouldn’t fail. She heard the men coming. She wheeled Sky around and kicked him into a run, stopping several hundred feet from the edge. The men were in plain sight now and coming fast. Finny spun Sky around, slammed him in the sides, and sent him rocketing forward full speed. She heard a train’s whistle. To her horror, she saw a train in the distance. She kicked Sky again. They had to make it before the train, before the men got to them. Sky galloped at top speed; wind whistled past Finny’s ears, tears streaming from her eyes from the wind and the cold. They were almost to the gap. Finny felt Sky hesitate, then burst ahead. He readied himself—he knew what to do—the train was coming—the whistle was deafening. Sky thundered across the ground until it disappeared and they were flying. Finny went weightless as time slowed down. The train’s engine, although near, seemed hundreds of miles away. Finny experienced everything at once: the brilliant sea of stars above, the wind battering her face, the yells and hollers of the cowboys behind her, the scream of the train’s whistle, and the stretch of Sky’s body as he reached, straining for the other side. The explosion. Finny slammed into Sky’s neck, then smashed to the ground when Sky’s legs collapsed under him. The big horse flipped on his side and skidded in the dirt. Finny rolled several times before landing in scrub brush, her entire body a spasm of pain. She saw stars, sure it was delirium, then realized it was the night sky.
Finny was desperate for air, desperate for the ability to breathe. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there trying—a second, an hour, forever? She rolled over, pushed herself up, and staggered to her feet, only to collapse back to her knees. She tried again and managed to stay standing. Finny looked around, not sure where she was. She looked across the divide; they were on the other side. They’d made it. The noise of the train was slowly fading into the night.
Finny took a step and almost went down again from shock and dizziness. She looked for Sky; he was twenty feet away, standing, head down, shaking. Finny, trying to walk steadily, went to him and picked up his reins. She ran her hands down his legs. He was breathing hard and looking at her. She didn’t know what his expression meant. She hoped he hadn’t lost his trust, his faith, or his love for her after she’d almost killed them both.
Finny climbed back on. She was so far ahead she could afford a little time. She asked for the canter. He felt slow to respond but his stride was smooth and fluid. Sky was mentally shaken but not physically hurt. Finny picked up the pace. No one was anywhere near her but she didn’t care—she galloped full speed to the finish.
Thunderous cheers erupted when Finny crossed the line. People appeared by the dozens, wildly applauding, coming to her and patting Sky, wanting to shake her hand, asking her name. Person after person came up to congratulate her. Finny felt overwhelmed. These people, so against her just minutes ago, had started chanting her name. Mesmerized, she scanned the crowd for Joe.
“Has anyone seen Joe or John McCoy?”
People shook their heads. The other race riders Finny had left in the dust were finally coming in one by one. She saw the first man staring her down. She tensed up, but with this crowd she didn’t think he’d do anything. The man rode up, his eyes cold. He took his hat off, stuck his hand out, and said, “Young lady if I live to be a hundred I don’t think I’ll ever see riding like that again. It was an honor to be beat by you.”
Dumbfounded, Finny shook the man’s hand. One by one, the other men rode up, removed their hats, and shook her hand. The last cowboy said, “We underestimated you. We deserved to lose.”
She thanked them, all while scanni
ng the crowd for any sign of Joe. She asked the last rider, “Do you have any idea where Joe or John McCoy went?” The man stood in his stirrups and surveyed the crowd. His eyes went steely and he sent out an ear-splitting whistle. Within moments six of the other riders were there.
“Anybody see John or Joe?” The cowboy addressed not just the riders but also the crowd.
“John don’t like to lose . . . but there ain’t no welshin’ on a bet here. Let’s go find him. I think he needs a reminder on how we do things.” The men set off. Finny, not knowing what to do, followed them. They all were heading toward the big barn where Joe had been earlier. Once there, Finny saw the McCoy truck was gone. She felt the blood drain from her body.
“Don’t worry yourself, young lady. We don’t let no one run out on a bet. We’ll find them.” Finny saw three of the men were on cell phones, all talking fast while cooling down their horses.
“They got him!” a cowboy yelled and shut his phone. “Trying to leave out of the north exit.” Finny nudged Sky forward only to be stopped by one of the cowboys. “Young lady, give us five minutes, then go, okay?” Finny nodded. She didn’t know why, but she trusted the man completely. She sat alone on Sky and watched the cowboys, who were now her friends, disappear into the night. She looked at her watch; she waited exactly five minutes and went to the north exit. It took a bit to find it but she did, and Joe was there, waiting under the dim light of the exit sign. Finny slid off of Sky and into his arms. They held each other for a long, long time, each refusing to let the other go. Finny felt warm, loved, and right where she belonged.
“You broke your promise,” Joe said, still holding her tight.
“I know.”
“You know you must be out of your head, completely crazy, right?”
“Yes, I know that too.”
“You know I love you more than anything, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
Coda
You have a what?” Beth asked, astonished.
“Please don’t be mad. He was free. I’m working off his board and all his expenses.” Beth pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sharp breath. “Finny—”
“Before you say anything, Mom, just come look at him. He´s so beautiful and he´s everything I’ve always wanted!”
Beth turned off the car and stepped out. The displeasure on her face deepened when her new pumps touched the dirt. Finny led her around the new security gate across the Azure Hills driveway.
“He´s perfect to ride, and he jumps the moon,” Finny added hoping for a sign of something positive from her mother.
Beth stayed silent as she navigated the ground to keep her shoes out of harm’s way. They passed the house and walked up to the stallion pen. Sky blasted out a nicker when he sensed Finny´s approach. He stuck his head out of the stall and nickered again when he saw her. Finny rubbed his long neck and looked at her mom. “See, he’s perfect . . . Are you mad?”
Beth crossed her arms and kept a nervous distance as she studied the horse.
“He was so skinny and pitiful, I had to take him. I love him so much and I was afraid you’d say no. I know I should have told you . . . asked you.”
Something like sympathy flickered in her mother’s eyes. Beth took a step toward Sky. “Yes, you should have told me. Owning a horse is a lot of responsibility and a lot of money.”
“I know, but I can do this, I swear.” Finny tried her best to sound responsible and capable and not like a pleading child.
“Your grades can’t suffer. If they do, we will have to rethink this, understand?”
Finny’s knees all but buckled with relief, but she still managed to grab her mother in a smothering bear hug. “Oh, Mom, thank you, thank you! They won’t suffer, I promise!” Beth let out a laugh and tentatively reached out to touch Sky’s nose. Sky gently blew a warm breath on her hand. Beth’s smile grew.
“He is beautiful . . . and big.” Beth sighed. “I guess I better give Steven a call and let him know we have an other family member.”
Finny jumped into her mother’s arms again and hugged her with all her might. Beth held her tight. She looked at her daughter. “Finny . . . I know you’ve wanted a horse for a long time . . . but, money was—”
“Mom, I understand. Really.”
Beth kissed the top of her head. “And Finny . . . no more big surprises, okay?” Finny nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
“Be home by six-thirty for dinner.”
“I will. I love you mom.”
“I love you too, baby.”
Joe waited until Beth´s car had cleared the drive before he stepped out of the feed room.
“You did it and you’re still alive,” Joe said with a smile.
“Yes, can you believe it?”
“So. When are you going to tell her about me?”