Golden Filly Collection Two

by Lauraine Snelling

  Trish gritted her teeth. She could feel the anger again, red hot and fiery, flaming in her stomach. The “whys” fueled it higher. She flung herself down on the blanket and clenched her arms around her middle. When she finally rolled over on her back, she winced in pain.

  “Ahhh.” She sat up and tried to arch her back away from her clothes. She tore into her bag. No green bottle. It was up in the car in her track bag. The pain eased when she turned her back to the breeze, but now her hair blew in her eyes.

  She picked up the pen again, but the urge to write had flown away like the gull who’d screamed for her orange. She snorted. Yeah, even the gulls yelled at her. She swiped at her eyes again. Whatever happened to that iron will she had?

  She couldn’t lie on her back because it hurt. She couldn’t lie on her stomach because, when the sun did come out, the heat hurt her back. She rolled on her side and pillowed her head on her book bag. At least her chemistry book was good for something!

  She lay in that no-man’s-land between waking and sleeping until the breeze blew more cold than cool. Struggling up the cliff helped wake her up, but when raindrops misted the windshield she put the top up.

  The foggy mist hovered over the campus too when she arrived, so she pulled on her sweats and, because she was late, ended up in the back row. Keeping awake in class was hard in the best of times, and now certainly wasn’t one of those times. She left for home at the break.

  “Your mom called,” Martha announced when Trish pushed open the door and stumbled in. “Said she’d gotten your message and was sorry the machine was off earlier. Was just a few minutes ago.” She glanced up at the clock. “You’re home early.”

  “I just couldn’t stay awake. Tomorrow night I meet with my tutor. Maybe he can work a miracle.” Trish went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of ice water. “Good night.”

  Once in her own room, Trish dialed the phone and waited for an answer. At the same time, she kicked off her shoes and sweats. “Hi, Mom…” Trish got no further. At her mother’s “hi,” she lost it.

  “Oh, Trish, I’m so glad you called.” Her mother’s words were separated by sniffs. When they’d both calmed down again, Trish could hear her mother’s gentle words. “You’re finally crying, Trish. Thank you, God, thank you.”

  Trish blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “Mom, I want to come home.” She sniffled again and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling to control the tears. Sometimes the trick worked. She drew in a raggedy breath. “What’s happening up there? How’s Miss Tee?” The questions poured out.

  Trish lay on the bed, feeling limp like the seaweed on the beach.

  “David has some really great news,” her mother was saying. “Here, I’ll let him tell you.”

  “Hi, baby sister. How ya doing?”

  “Not so good.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Well, how’d you like to have red, swollen eyes all the time? And the puffier my eyes are, the easier it is to fall asleep. That’s the only thing I do well right now.”

  “How’s the chemistry?”

  “Don’t ask.” She grabbed another tissue and blew again. “So what’s your news?”

  “I’ve been accepted at the University of Arizona, pre–veterinary medicine. I’ll be leaving the last week in August.”

  “Oh, David, n-o-o!”

  Chapter

  03

  Come on, Trish. I’m not going to the ends of the earth. This won’t be any different than when I went to Washington State.”

  “Yes, it will. You’ll be farther away.” Trish scrubbed her fingers through her hair.

  “Not really. Now it’ll be air time instead of drive time, so really I’ll be closer.”

  Trish could tell her brother was forcing patience into his voice. Why couldn’t she be happy for him? He was finally getting to do what he wanted to after taking a year off college to help at home.

  “Hey, look who’s been gone the last months.”

  “I know, David.” Trish leaned against the pillows she’d stacked up behind her on the bed. “I guess…” She struggled to find the right words. “I guess I don’t want any more change. So much has happened that sometimes I’m afraid my whole world is going to explode and fly away in a million pieces—and that I’ll never be able to put it all back together again.”

  “Things will never be the same again, Tee. You can’t expect that, and you’ve got to face it.”

  “I know.”

  A silence lengthened between them, but it was comforting, not awkward.

  “So, how’s your chemistry coming?”

  “I said don’t ask. Oh, David, how come I’m so stupid when it comes to chemistry? I study and think I have stuff memorized, and when I take the test my brain flies right out the window. The other day I nearly caused everyone to die of smoke inhalation.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was reading the instructions for the experiment to my partner, and I accidentally gave part of the next one. The two didn’t mix very well.”

  David swallowed a chuckle. “You have to pay close attention in the lab.”

  “Tell me about it. That’s the problem, my attention span. It goes to sleep on me every chance it gets.” She wiped her nose with a soggy tissue. “And takes my brain and body right along with it. I feel as if I could sleep for years.”

  “Sounds like you’re depressed to me.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Evanston.”

  “No, I read some stuff on grieving that Mom gave me. It said depression happens a lot, and wanting to sleep all the time can be part of it.”

  “Mmmm.” Trish pulled on her earlobe. When it hurt, she removed the gold post and laid it on the nightstand. “I gotta hit the books again, David.”

  “Hey, if you don’t make it home before I leave, I’ll stop by there on my way. You can show me this beach you keep running away to.”

  “Sure, sounds good. Good night, David. Say good night to Mom. And tell Rhonda and Brad I could use some mail. Or a phone call.” She hung up. She was glad she’d called but she didn’t feel as good as she’d expected. She picked up her book bag, and the chemistry book fell out on her chest. She felt like throwing it across the room, but managed to calmly open it to the assignment.

  She fell asleep at some point and awoke with a terrible thirst. She stared groggily at the clock. One-thirty. She staggered to the bathroom, drank some water, and shed her clothes on the way back to her bed. When the alarm rang, Trish felt like pulling the covers over her head and pretending the world didn’t exist. Instead, she slammed her fist on the snooze button and drifted off again.

  The crowd screamed as she and Spitfire surged across the finish line, winning by two lengths. They did it; they won! She could hear his breathing, whistling like a freight train, his heart pounding against his ribs. The crowd screamed again as they trotted back to the winner’s circle.

  It wasn’t the crowd screaming. Trish reached over and turned off the alarm. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes again. At least in her dreams she was still a winner. And winning felt so good.

  She pushed herself to a sitting position. Maybe she was jinxed without Spitfire! She shook her head. That was crazy. It wasn’t as if the only time she won was when she was riding the big black colt, her best friend in all the world. But now Spitfire lived at BlueMist Farms in Kentucky and wasn’t even hers any longer. At least not all hers.

  She tugged on her clothes and headed for the track. That was part of the problem, wasn’t it? She was so alone. Except for Mandy, the jockey she’d talked to maybe once, the only people she really talked to here were the Finleys and her tutor, Richard. And all he wanted to talk about was chemistry. Yuk!

  You just have to make the effort. She wished her nagger had stayed at home in bed, asleep for about an eternity or so. Besides, who’d want to be your friend? You’re about as much fun as…as a chemistry quiz. Trish slammed the door of her car and the one on her mind also. She did not need his advice right now, es
pecially when all it did was make her feel worse. Even if he was right.

  At least the horses were glad to see her. Even Gatesby seemed to want some extra loving. Trish scratched ears and cheeks down the line, inhaling the good, honest smell of horse. Even though she wasn’t winning, this part of her world seemed right. The horses didn’t care if she felt brain dead half the time. Firefly lipped a tendril of hair that framed Trish’s face, just like Spitfire used to do, and whuffled in her face.

  Trish wrapped her arms around Gatesby’s neck and tried to picture Spitfire there instead. But he wouldn’t come in. Was she even losing his memory?

  The fogless morning felt good for a change as she worked the string of horses. She would walk some, breeze Firefly, and slow-gallop others, all the time following the conditioning program Adam had designed for the horses in his care.

  “How’d she do?” Adam asked of a new mare that he’d started training.

  “Kinda sluggish. Not what you’d think after all the time she’s had off. I don’t think she feels tip-top.”

  Adam nodded. “We’ll check her temp. No limping on that right front?”

  Trish shook her head. “Gracias,” she said as Carlos gave her a leg up on Gatesby, her last mount for the morning. When the gelding didn’t act up, she looked at Carlos with a question. He shrugged and shook his head, keeping a wary eye on the horse just the same.

  “Okay, what’s happening?” she asked after a rather dispirited trot around the oval track. She leaned forward and stroked the dark neck flecked with sweat. “You shouldn’t have worked up a sweat. It’s back to the barn with you, fella.”

  “We better check temps all around,” Adam said to Carlos when Trish told him what she’d observed.

  Trish held the horses’ heads while Carlos and Adam checked temperatures. They drew blood on the mare, ready to send it out for diagnosis, when they saw the mare was running a fever.

  “What could it be?” Trish asked when the third animal in a row showed a rise in body heat. She walked beside Adam back to the office.

  “Who knows?” Adam dropped into his swivel chair and picked up the phone. He pushed the speed dial for the vet. “I think we’ve got trouble,” he said after the greeting. “Anyone else running temps?” He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Okay, see you in a couple of minutes.”

  “What did he say? Anyone else got trouble?” Trish dropped down to the lid on a green tack box.

  Adam shook his head. “Not that he knows of. Carlos, disinfect all the buckets.”

  “Already doing that. No one was off their feed this morning. But now that mare has a runny nose.” Carlos removed his hat to scratch his head.

  “Well, she was clean when she came in here.” Adam pulled out the record book. “Doc wouldn’t have let anything by, and his inspection was only two days ago. She came in at night, right?”

  Trish listened to the discussion with one ear while her memory flipped back to the siege of infection they’d had at Runnin’ On Farm the fall before. The first time her father’d been in the hospital. She’d had some mighty sick horses. Her stomach turned queasy at the thought. Could she have brought back the virus from some other farm she rode for?

  The pickup containing the portable veterinarian clinic pulled up at the barn, and the vet climbed out. “Well, let’s see what’s going on.” He raised the door on the rear of the canopy and removed a stainless steel bucket with equipment in it.

  Trish watched from the doorway as he checked over the bay mare. She looked droopy all right, and had a runny nose.

  “Looks like we better vaccinate the entire string. I’ll take that blood sample in, but I’m sure it’s going to show herpes virus 1. You know the game plan, and I know you’ve vaccinated your horses regularly. Where’d this one come from?”

  As the discussion continued, Trish stroked the mare’s neck and rubbed her ears. “Poor old girl, sorry you caught this. But you keep the bug to yourself, you hear?”

  “This should blow over in a week or so, but make sure she drinks plenty of water. If you hear any rales in her lungs or the coughing gets really bad, she could develop pneumonia. Keep me posted.”

  Trish followed him to the truck. “Ah—can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, shoot away.” He slung the bucket back in the truck.

  “Could I—ah—do you think I brought the virus back from another barn?”

  “Naa, she was probably a latent carrier. Wouldn’t be surprised if she had it a long time ago and all the stress of shipping and a new environment brought it on. You know Adam is really careful about his horses, but not everyone is as cautious as he is.”

  “Thanks.” Trish felt like someone had just lifted a load from her shoulders and her stomach settled back down.

  You’re beginning to think everything is your fault, her nagger whispered in her ear. That’s not smart, you know.

  Later, as she walked up to the jockey room, Trish thought ahead to the afternoon program. For a change her agent had gotten her mounts for two other trainers. Neither were top horses, but that certainly wasn’t surprising. If she could just get them to run.

  By the time the third race was called, her resident troupe of butterflies flipped around on their warm-ups. She listened to the trainer’s instructions carefully. The gelding did not like being boxed in, and they were in gate two.

  Why didn’t they put blinkers on him? Trish thought as they trotted past the stands. Then tight quarters wouldn’t bother him so much.

  “Ya gotta break fast,” she told the twitching ears as the horse shifted from side to side in the gate. “Easy now, you know what’s happening.” The singsong was as much for her as the restless horse under her. “Come on, fella, I need this win even more than you do.”

  The gate, the horse, and Trish all exploded at the same instant. But it was like time stood still for just a fraction before the gelding caught the first stride. The first three animals surged stride for stride, but that pause gave number four the opportunity he needed. Going into the first turn he pounded directly in front of Trish.

  Her mount shook his head, watching the horses on either side of him more than concentrating on the job he was set to do. Trish swung her whip back once and he leaped forward. But it was a fight all the way to the pole. And they were caught in the middle the entire distance, giving them a fourth.

  The trainer looked at her with a blank face. I told you so, seemed to hover all around them. All he said was “Tough break.”

  Tough break, my eye, Trish scolded herself all the way back to the jockey room.

  And the next race wasn’t any better. This time she had the horse in front, just like the trainer told her to do, but he quit running with four lengths to go. They took a show.

  “I’m sorry,” she told the trainer. “He just quit.”

  “Yeah, well, that was his first time at a mile. Thought you had it there, though.”

  “Me too.” As she walked back to the jockey’s room, she felt the loneliness return. If only she had someone to talk to. She checked her watch. Rhonda ought to be home now. She headed for the phone and dialed her friend’s number.

  Trish felt her heart leap when the familiar voice answered on the second ring.

  “Hi.” Trish cleared her throat. “It’s me.”

  “Trish, I can’t believe it. How are you? What’s going on? David says you’re not doing so well at the track. And how’s the beach? You all tanned?”

  Trish laughed at the rapid-fire stream of questions. Yup, this was Rhonda all right. Words running over each other. “How can I answer all that at the same time?”

  “You can’t. I’ll make it easy. You won any races lately?”

  “Thanks, friend. Get me right where it hurts. I haven’t won since Belmont, so that answers another question. I’m not doing well, anywhere, anytime.”

  “Why don’t you come home?”

  “Why don’t you come down here? We could go school shopping like we never dreamed.”

/>   “Oh, I can’t. I’ve got jumping shows coming up the next two weekends. How about after that?”

  Trish sighed. “That’s so far away. I was hoping you could come now.” She leaned against the wall, the phone clamped between her ear and shoulder.

  “Sorry, Tee.”

  “I know. I’ll call the travel agent and she’ll send you the ticket.”

  “Hey, you heard from the sexiest jockey in the world?”

  “Rhonda!”

  “Well, Red Holloran is a hunk in my book.”

  “He is nice.”

  “Nice! Nice! Your dog is nice. A hot fudge sundae is yummy. Red is…”

  “Rhonda, you nut.” Trish giggled.

  “…sweet, likes you a whole lot, rides like a dream, and kisses like a—”

  “That’s enough.” Trish strangled on her laughter. “You didn’t kiss him.”

  “No, but you did, and when you just so happened to mention it to your best friend in all the world, your eyes glazed over. That should tell you something.”

  “Spitfire’s my best friend in all the world.”

  “Okay, your best human friend, then.” They swapped chuckles over the line. “Now, back to my original question before you so rudely sidetracked me.”

  “All right. Yes! I got a card from him last week.”

  “Was it a mushy one?”

  “You are the nosiest—”

  “Best friend in all the world. Well?”

  “No, it was funny. I need funny things in my life right now. That’s why I called you, and now you say you can’t come.”

  “I’ll be there. You just keep those stores warmed up. We’re going to do some serious shopping.”

  “See you in two weeks.” Trish hung up the phone. Maybe she should call Rhonda every day. Maybe every hour.

  Two weeks to wait. Ugh!

  She checked her watch. Yes, time to stop by a card shop on her way home. Red was long overdue for an answer.

  Reading the messages made her giggle out loud. She chose two funny ones for Red and then one for Rhonda. Writing them when she got home made her feel even better. How lucky she was to have such good friends in her life.