Saratoga Summer
by Syrinx
Summary: At Belmont Park in New York, Cindy has found the first glimpses of success. This summer she has decided to go to Saratoga and work alongside David Hernon, who may help Cindy come to a revelation.
Disclaimer: All rights to the Thoroughbred series belong to Joanna Campbell and Harper Collins.
A/N: Sequel to Star Quality.

1.

The parking lot was mostly empty on a relatively quiet Sunday afternoon. The sky was a deep shade of blue and the sun was rising higher in the sky, shining down its baking rays on the simmering blacktop of the lot. It was the first week of July, and that meant that the humidity could only rise to a new level of mercilessness.

Cindy McLean sat in the driver's seat of the Jaguar, wondering why on earth she had insisted that she do this. The car was an old model, worn and looked after with meticulous care. It was black, so the heat soaked into its metal body, warming Cindy even when she was trembling.

She had already learned to start the ignition, and the large engine within the black beast was rumbling, sucking down the unleaded gasoline that cost nearly two dollars a gallon. Her left foot was pressed hard on the clutch and her right was keeping the Jaguar reined in.

"I don't know about this," Cindy said truthfully as Jack sat as relaxed as he could be in the passenger seat, looking out the windshield as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"You'll be fine, Cin," he said, grabbing her hand and putting it firmly on the stick of metal and wood that connected to the manual transmission. "Just grab the stick and go."

Cindy glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Why must you make everything sound like an innuendo?" She asked, hiding her smile.

"Because it would be no fun if I didn't," he replied and she nodded. It really wouldn't be Jack next to her in his car as he taught her the tricky complexities of the stick shift if he didn't toss meaningless jokes her way.

"You remember what to do?" he asked.

"First gear, right?" Cindy asked, pointing to where the stick was going to go when she was to start progressing forward.

"Right," he said. "Keep the clutch in when you're shifting and your foot off the gas. When you put your foot back on the gas again, slowly lift off on the clutch."

Cindy nodded robotically as she gripped the steering wheel with one hand and the stick shift with the other, wishing it wasn't so hot out. Carefully, she put her foot on the gas and pulled off the clutch.

The car jerked forward and died.

"What did I do?"" Cindy asked frantically, after Jack told her to restart the car.

"Not enough gas," he simply answered.

"That means nothing to me, Jack," she pointed out to him.

"More gas, less clutch," he said. "In other words, peel out if you have to."

Cindy winced, remembering all the immature high school students squealing their tires in the parking lot of school back home. She had always considered herself above the fun of peeling out of parking lots and leaving plumes of smoke.

"Okay," she said slowly, trying it again. The Jaguar roared and jerked forward, rattling Cindy enough to make her nearly panic before she realized the car was continuing forward. Dimly she heard Jack telling her to shift to second.

It took her a long time to figure out second gear.

"It's easy," he said, making her stop and start several times before she finally got the car going without a jerk and a slight squeal of the tires. They rounded the parking lot several times in second and finally graduating to third and downshifting to second whenever Cindy had to turn. She found that Jack would yell at her if she took turns in third gear.

After they had stopped again, Cindy was a shaking mess and didn't know exactly why.

"How do you drive this thing?" Cindy asked, her left foot shaking as she kept the clutch pressed all the way down while she tried to go into first again, the car jerking once more. "It's making me a nervous wreck."

Jack only shrugged. "It's fun to play with," he said, smiling.

"Well, I will definitely not be buying a stick shift," Cindy said, finally stopping the Jaguar in a parking space and killing the engine, Jack tell instructing her to leave the car in first so it wouldn't roll away.

"Oh, come on, Cin," Jack chuckled as they switched places, Cindy sitting in a heap of nerves in the passenger seat. "You were doing pretty well."

"Right," Cindy laughed, shaking her head. "This has convinced me. Automatics will be my mode of transportation, even if they do cost more."

"So this has convinced you?" Jack asked, turning on the car and pulling forward smoothly and without so much as a hesitant stall from the engine.

"Definitely," Cindy nodded.

"Pitiful," Jack shook his head and Cindy hit his shoulder as they pulled out of the parking lot.

It had been two years since Cindy had given up the dead truck she had used to move to New York. Since that time she had managed to go completely without a car, but as of late she found that not having one was sometimes irritating since she had to bounce to Brooklyn and Belmont each day. Finally she had decided to put her well-earned money toward her first big purchase and replace her long absent truck. She was looking for something sleek and fitting for the young jockey she had become.

She thought an Audi would fit her perfectly.

"You seriously thought I was doing pretty well?" Cindy asked as they drove down the street, heading back to Belmont Park.

"Good enough for your first try," Jack informed her. "Next time we'll have you going up hills and braving traffic."

"I will not be doing any of that," Cindy admonished, shaking her head. "Not if you want me to kill your transmission."

"Okay, I retract that statement," Jack smiled goofily at her and she grinned, turning to the lowered window to feel the humid air breeze through her thick blond hair.

The heat was almost stifling, and she found it hard to breathe when the hot air hit her in the face. She took two big gulps before looking away and pulling her hair into a high ponytail to get it off her neck. It hadn't been this humid in nearly two years.

Back then Cindy had just started to hit her early strides as a young jockey, riding Lucas' ill reputed Bosta in the Acorn Stakes. The dark bay filly had faced down champions that day and won, coming back to the grandstand soaked in sweat but dancing on her toes. That was the day Cindy had been looked upon as something with potential in the world of racing.

Since then Cindy had found an agent and ridden other horses in other races. She was becoming well known in the big tracks as a choice to consider. She got the job done, and she was a good rider. She had never been suspended or reprimanded; she had a clean record. She was something to look at no matter what trainers thought of female jockeys.

She had ridden Bosta to a second place finish in the Distaff before getting her across the wire first in the same race the next year. She had jockeyed Chasing Rubies to a win in the Kentucky Oaks, and had ridden the juvenile champion, High Roller, in the Kentucky Derby. While she had not come close to winning the greatest race in the nation, she was still successful elsewhere, winning with horses in several big stakes events across the nation. Cindy was getting used to the idea of flying everywhere and all the time.

Belmont Park, however, was still her home track and held all her loyalty. Lucas Simm was still her main employer, and she still exercised his horses alongside his other riders. So far the effects of success had not stained Cindy. It was all too new to let her newfound place in the world go to her head.

Jack steered the Jaguar down the main road and up through the gates of Belmont, kicking up a heavy stream of dust from the gravel as they were waved through. They passed by large horse vans loading up the stakes competitors that had been staying through the summer session. With Belmont ending its May through July racing, horses would be shipping north to Saratoga, when the oldest track on the east coast opened its doors for the late summer session.

Cindy thought nothing of it. She had seen it go that way for nearly three years now, and she was accustomed to the constant coming and going. They would all be back come September, when Belmont opened up again for fall racing leading to the Breeders' Cup. They passed by without Cindy giving them a second glance. It was only when they pulled up to barn 41 and saw the smaller horse van parked in front that she sat up in the seat.

"What's going on?" Cindy asked Jack as he pulled carefully up to the van and parked, shutting off the rumbling engine. "I didn't think Lucas was shipping his strings out until next week."

"He's not shipping anyone out today," Jack informed her, opening the door and stepping out as Cindy did, shading her eyes with her hand to get a better look at the van. It was a plain white vehicle like many others.

"Then what's up?" Cindy asked, slamming the car door shut.

"New horse," Jack said casually, and Cindy smiled.

"Who is it?" she asked, walking behind Jack as they made their way into the stable. The aisle was empty.

"Lucas hasn't told me much," Jack said cryptically. "Three-year-old son of Two Punch, out of a Lit de Justice mare."

"Come on," Cindy insisted, knowing when Jack was playing his games. "You know more than that."

"Maybe," Jack shrugged. "Maybe not."

Cindy arched an eyebrow and walked up to Lucas' office, where he was busy filling out paper work for a man waiting nearby.

"There," Lucas said. "Transfer complete."

"Thank you," the unknown man nodded and brushed past Cindy on his way out of the office. Soon after Cindy could hear the van's engine rumble alive and the crunch of tires outside.

"What's up?" Jack asked, sliding past Cindy in the door.

"Got that colt," Lucas nodded. "Looks like he traveled well, too. We'll give him a few days before starting him up under Cindy."

"Who is it?" Cindy asked, wondering whom this colt was that she would be riding.

"Got a transferred colt from another barn at Santa Anita," Lucas explained, fixing something on his messy desk before taking Cindy and Jack out into the aisle. "His owners were upset with the colt's management in California, so they pulled him from his trainer and sent him up here."

Lucas led the way down the dim aisle and stopped just in front of a stall. "He won a few good sprints out west before coming down with this strange fungus on his coat and feet. That took a few months to clear up, and the colt didn't bounce back as well as the owners liked. So now I've got him."

Cindy looked into the stall and saw a stocky dark gray colt staring back at her, flicking his ears and huffing to catch her scent. His body was dark and covered with circular light marks, making him look like a blizzard during the night. He was well made, Cindy noticed, even in the dark.

"Nice," she said, stepping back as the colt took a few brave steps up to the door and hung his head over the guard, pricking his ears at his visitors. Cindy rubbed her hand along the softness of the colt's muzzle and smiled into the horse's dark brown eyes. He had sweetness about him that she could already see. She smiled and patted his hard neck affectionately.

"His name is Sunday Punch," Lucas said, writing the name down on a piece of masking tape and tearing the beige strip from the roll to stick it to the stall.

"Where's he going?" Jack asked, watching Cindy tickle the agreeable colt's chin. The gray lipped at her fingers and tossed his head energetically, stamping a hoof into his thick bedding.

"I'm thinking of sending him to Saratoga for those two big sprint events up there," Lucas replied. "And I've already talked to his owners about a jockey. They'd like to try Cindy out on him for his first start."

Automatically Cindy blushed. It was going to take a long time to realize that someone actually wanted her to ride their horse. After her experiences at Whitebrook, Dubai, and the rest of the tracks nationwide she felt she had every right to wonder about this new phenomenon.

"Who will be overseeing his training?" Jack asked, and Cindy was blissfully unaware. She was too busy crooning to the colt, who was flicking his ears rapidly at her strange sounds.

"Hernon," Lucas said simply, and Cindy completely missed Jack's clenching jaw.

"Hernon?" Jack asked, and Lucas held up a hand.

"Don't say it, Jack," Lucas started. "I know you and David have some misgivings, but I'm not sending you up there. I'm going to need you down here while the sales start, and you know that perfectly well. Hernon is capable. He wouldn't be my man in Saratoga if he wasn't."

At the mention of the name, Cindy was suddenly paying attention. She knew the name and she had met the man a few times at special events. David Hernon was Lucas' assistant trainer at Saratoga, and although Cindy hadn't seen him in years she could still remember his attention to her and Jack's disapproving glare.

"He'll be training at Saratoga all through the summer?" Jack asked, his dark blue eyes dimmer than usual. It looked to Cindy as if a storm cloud was growing.

"That's the idea, yes," Lucas nodded. "And I'd like Cindy up there as well to take him out. David's short an exercise rider this summer as it is. One of his girls is pregnant and on leave."

Jack snorted and Lucas gave him a warning glance.

"Stop, Jack," Lucas said.

"Yeah," Jack sighed, and nodded.

"You have a place to stay in Saratoga?" Lucas asked Cindy, and she nodded. She could always ask her parents if she could borrow the summerhouse they had bought years ago. She already knew they would be out in California this summer with Adriatic, Fleet Goddess' four-year-old son who would soon be prepping for the Breeders' Cup. Saratoga wasn't on their list this year.

Cindy nodded and looked over at Jack, who still didn't seem too pleased about the situation.

"Good,"" Lucas nodded. "I want you out there by next week and prepping for the Amsterdam. David knows about the plans already."

"Right," Jack sighed, running both hands through his hair. "But I want to ship him up there."

"I can get someone else to do that, Jack," Lucas said, looking surprised for once.

"No, I want to do it," Jack said, staring at the colt and Cindy hard enough to make Cindy's skin bristle. She shook away the feeling and almost smiled. She hadn't seen Jack that frustrated since he had broken up with Audrey Sutherland. It almost made her feel special.

"Have it your way," Lucas said, holding up his hands in surrender. "We'll ship him out next week," he added, just before turning and walking back to his office, shaking his head at Jack's vehement insistence. Cindy had to admit that she had never seen Jack push his will in such a way. He was normally mild and easy going about things. This show of his had suddenly made her wary.

"Jack," she said slowly, her hand still on Sunday Punch's forehead. The gray eyed them both and snorted before retreating into his stall. Cindy let her hand drop.

"Sorry," he said, forcing a smile at her. "But I don't think I need to explain myself to you."

Cindy snorted. Like she was supposed to just guess why Jack didn't want her spending time with the one man that he mysteriously never respected. Ever since he had broken up with Audrey their relationship was more of a strained friendship. She was always on guard and he was always on guard. The only way they broke down the barriers between them was through jokes and play. It was no wonder several rumors had been circulating through the backside about their status. Cindy had overheard several colorful stories, and would have gotten a good laugh out of them if they hadn't bordered on a very real possibility.

Nevertheless, Cindy gave Jack a wayside glance before looking into the stall.

"I'll be fine, Jack," Cindy said casually, chirping to the gray colt, who flicked his ears at her and ambled up to the stall guard again to have his forehead scratched. She could already tell he was going to be an easy one.

"I know you will be," Jack said, looking like all the fight had left his body. He was just Jack now, not the strange creature she had just witnessed.

"Are you all done playing Mr. Macho?" Cindy asked, raising an eyebrow and smiling at him over her shoulder.

"Mr. Macho?" Jack asked, laughing. "Never, Cin."