1

Among Shadows

By Syrinx

Disclaimer: All rights to the Thoroughbred series belong to Joanna Campbell and Harper Collins.

Summary: It is Glory's four-year-old season, and Cindy knows he could be Whitebrook's best race horse in years. But this is before Ashleigh buys In Shadows, a proven champion who may become Glory's biggest challenge yet. (Post-Glory's Rival)

A/N: First in the Cindy Series.

1

Cindy McLean woke up with a start at the piercing shrill of the digital alarm clock. Groaning, she batted at the buttons on top of the unit until the noise ceased, returning comfortable silence to her room. However, she knew that staying in bed wasn't an option. Not at Whitebrook Farm, anyway.

Frowning, she glared at the brilliant neon numbers of the clock and sighed, rolling out of bed and standing up on sleepy legs. Absently, she dug her toes into the white carpet and walked over to the window, tucking her loose blond hair behind her ears.

The snow was still there from yesterday afternoon, all fluffy and white, covering the landscape delicately. Cindy loved this sort of weather, and the horses liked the tangy air. She couldn't wait to go down to the barns.

"Hey, short stuff! Those horses aren't going to work themselves!"

Cindy jumped and turned around, rushing across her room and to the door, flinging it open to reveal her adoptive sister Samantha, hands on her hips and chaps already tied around her legs.

"I just woke up!" Cindy laughed.

"No kidding," Samantha shook her head, smiling. "Okay, come on. Glory is waiting for you. I'll be down in the main barn saddling up Shining."

Cindy nodded her head enthusiastically. "I'll be down there in ten minutes."

Samantha waved her hand and walked down the hall, disappearing around the corner on the stairs. Cindy rushed back into her room and started rummaging through her pile of work clothes that she had thrown into the corner of her room. She pulled out a long sleeved shirt, a sweater, blue jeans, chaps, and wool socks, tossing her polar fleece pajamas on the floor and pulling on her work clothes.

Quickly, she grabbed her helmet and boots and rushed out of her room, flying down the hallway and stairs.

"Hi, Mom!" Cindy called out to her adoptive mother, Beth McLean, who was standing in front of the stove cooking pancakes. "Don't have time for breakfast!"

"What do you mean?" Beth asked, flipping over one pancake and turning to catch Cindy, who was tearing through the kitchen like a whirlwind. "There is always a time for breakfast, young lady," she demanded, putting two pancakes on a paper plate and thrusting them at her daughter. "Eat them on the way if you're in such a rush."

Cindy grabbed the plate and grinned. "Thanks, Mom." She put one in her mouth as she began to lace up her boots, pulling on the laces tightly.

"What's the hurry anyway?" Beth asked, calmly flipping the pancakes on the stove. "With Ian at that auction with Ashleigh I'm completely out of the loop."

"We're going to work Glory today," Cindy announced excitedly. "His first time to work on the track since the Breeder's Cup."

"That's right, isn't it," Beth said, shaking her head. "And here I'd nearly forgotten." She smiled and pushed her blond curls from her face. "What a champion you trained, Cindy."

Cindy beamed at her mom as she pulled on her coat, devouring the second pancake. She certainly did train a champion. Glory, or by his real name, March to Glory, had won his first race by twenty lengths last year, and ended the season by finishing first in the Breeder's Cup Classic - by thirty-one lengths. People all over were calling him the next Secretariat. Just being associated with Glory made Cindy proud.

"Mike wants to take him to Santa Anita, for the Big 'Cap there," she added. "A million dollars."

Beth snorted and said, "If he could win that I think Whitebrook would be sailing free of taxes for a year."

Cindy nodded and pushed the screen door open. "I'll be at the training oval, if you need me."

"Okay, sweetie," Beth called, but Cindy was already out the door.

The snow crushed softly under Cindy's feet as she sped her way down to the main barn. Glory's first work of the year. She smiled to herself. Cindy was sure this year would go even better than the last. Although last year hadn't been a walk in the park, she conceded. Glory had been drugged, lost Ashleigh as his rider when she had her baby, and, of course, been the subject of abuse by horse thieves. It was a miracle Glory turned out the way he did - a champion.

Cindy pushed open the door to the main barn and was instantly greeted by Glory's energetic whinny.

"Hey, boy!" Cindy laughed, running up to the gray colt's stall and throwing her arms around his neck, rubbing his coat vigorously. The colt nickered and nuzzled her pockets, searching for treats and Cindy pulled away. "Not before your work, boy," she scolded. "I don't have anything anyway," she added, pulling her pockets out so he could see.

Glory snorted and shook his mane, retreating inside his stall to check out his hay net. Cindy plucked the colt's halter from its resting place and opened the stall, walking up to Glory's head.

"We're going to do a jog today, boy," Cindy said, slipping the halter over the gray colt's beautifully sculpted head. "I bet you've been dying for this."

She led the colt out of his stall and placed him in crossties, just opposite of Samantha and Shining. The filly craned her head around and nickered a greeting to the gray colt, shaking her red roan head, tossing her black mane out of her eyes. Samantha appeared on the other side of her filly and smiled at Cindy.

"He looks in champion form," Samantha said, walking over to the Breeder's Cup Classic winner. "I'll bet he dazzles us today."

"Shining looks good, too," Cindy said, admiring the roan filly, who was busy pawing at the concrete floor, squealing impatiently. Shining was the winner of the Breeder's Cup Distaff, a prestigious race for fillies and mares. It seemed like it was almost yesterday that Samantha had been deliberating whether or not to enter Shining in the Classic, causing distress at Whitebrook because Glory had been entered in the same race. Samantha had opted for the Distaff instead, allowing Whitebrook to go home with two trophies instead of one.

Cindy patiently groomed Glory's steel gray coat, brushing off all the dust and dirt from his stall, pulling the occasional piece of straw from his gray mane.

"I'm taking Shining out," Samantha announced, undoing the filly's crossties and walking the beautiful roan out to the training oval. "Mike is down there on Queenie."

Cindy nodded her head and waved her sister on. "I'll have Glory ready soon."

She made her way into the tack room, pausing to say hello to Mr. Wonderful, Wonder's most recent star on the track. The chestnut colt nickered to her and nuzzled her hand, snuffling quietly. Mr. Wonderful had been sidelined most of the year due to injury, but everyone hoped he'd be well enough for the three-year-old races coming up in February. Cindy patted the colt on the nose and continued to the tack room, collecting Glory's bridle and saddle.

Once Glory was tacked up, Cindy undid the crossties and led the beautiful animal out of the barn. As soon as Glory stepped outside, the early morning sunlight splashed over him, coloring his brilliant dark gray coat. Cindy grinned up at the colt and led him along on a loose lead, letting him prance through the soft snow, leaving white footprints all the way down the trail.

"Hey, Cin," Mike called, reining in Queenie, a sweet chestnut pace mare, and walked her up to the gap. "How's he feeling?"

Cindy looked up at the colt, who had halted near the rail, head up and ears pricked in the direction of Sam and Shining, who were warming up down the track. "He's in high spirits, like always."

"Good," Mike smiled. "Mount up and let's see how he'll go after that rest."

Cindy nodded and tossed Glory's reins over his head, collected them again at his withers. "Shhh," Cindy crooned as she slid her left foot into the stirrup and launched herself into the air. Glory shifted his weight calmly as Cindy landed in the saddle, putting her right foot in the other stirrup. "Good boy," Cindy patted his neck after she had arranged her stirrups and buckled up her hard hat.

Mike nodded to Cindy to move him out and she complied, trotting Glory through the gap and past the owner of Whitebrook. Mike smiled and sat back in Queenie's western saddle, looking at their Breeder's Cup champion float by on slender legs.

Cindy soon had Glory going at a collected canter, breezing languidly around the first turn and gaining slowly on Sam and Shining, who had slowed to a trot. Glory tugged lightly on the reins and twisted his head, jumping into the air a couple of times energetically. Cindy held on and let him shake off the feeling of cabin fever. The colt had been stuck in stalls and paddocks for a little over a month without training, the weather had been so bad. Mike and Ashleigh had been forced to cancel works for two weeks.

Now that a light layer of snow was the only thing on the ground, Mike had started up works again while Ashleigh was away in New York for the auction. Cindy pulled up Glory, feeling his muscles quiver and strain as he forced himself to go slower instead caving in to the natural instinct to go faster. To make up for it, the colt let out a sudden buck and pranced away from Shining, ducking to the outside.

Samantha laughed and patted Shining's red neck, soothing the mare's nerves. Shining eyed Glory suspiciously and finally let it go with a snort as Cindy got the gray colt under control again, having him fall in line next to Shining.

"I see he's more than happy to be on the track again," Sam said, reaching out and running her fingers through the colt's dark gray mane.

"He is," Cindy smiled, patting her colt's thick, arched neck. Glory snuffed and picked his feet up lightly, prancing through the snow and dirt.

Shining squealed quietly and shook her mane, bumping into Glory fondly.

"What do you think Ashleigh got in New York?" Cindy asked, sitting confidently in the saddle. "She was so excited about going."

"Oh," Samantha shrugged. "There are a bunch of hot shot owners and trainers up there selling and buying. It's one of the biggest auctions New York has seen in a while, Thoroughbred wise."

Cindy nodded. "Well, I hope she gets what she wants."

"Me too," Samantha said, nodding her head. "I'm sure she will."

The two girls turned the corner and trotted back to the gap, just as a familiar red Ferrari pulled up, spinning in the slick snow on the gravel driveway.

"Great," Cindy muttered.

Samantha laughed, gritting her teeth. "The dynamic duo has arrived," she shook her head. "I really was hoping I wouldn't have to see them so soon after the Breeder's Cup."

Cindy shook her head. "Well, you know Hereford Cross won the Malibu Stakes in December for Townsend Acres."

Samantha nodded her head. "I did hear that, and I bet they're here partly to announce him the newest star in Thoroughbred sprinting."

Cindy sighed. The last thing she wanted to see at Glory's first work of the year had arrived in style, as usual. Lavinia Townsend stepped out of the red sports car in high heeled black shoes, leopard print pants, black shirt, and a long black coat meant more for fashion than for purpose. Cindy rolled her eyes and brought Glory to a halt in the middle of the track, watching the pair stroll toward them in the snow.

Brad pulled the collar of his expensive trench coat up, stuffing his gloved hands in his pockets and picked his feet, enclosed in leather dress shoes, high and delicately over the snow. Mike dismounted Queenie and waited for them at the gap, leaning against the plastic railing.

"I assume you haven't started his work yet," Lavinia asked in her haughty, nasal voice. "Brad's father couldn't get away. He's still up at the New York auction."

"As is Ashleigh," Mike said, rubbing Queenie's chestnut neck quietly, waiting for the Townsends to make their way to the gap.

Cindy sat tersely on Glory's back, letting the colt tug innocently on the reins. Brad stopped by Mike and stood expectantly, watching Glory with a critical gaze, making Cindy nervous. Brad was the son of Mr. Clay Townsend, half owner of Ashleigh's Wonder and all her foals. Clay Townsend also owned an investment in Glory, after a bargain to keep Wonder's latest foal, Wonder's Champion, at Whitebrook. Brad was coming to watch the works more often than his father, since he was going to take over the farm eventually, an event that Cindy dreaded with all her being. Brad could never match his father in kindness and manners.

"Is he warmed up?" He asked Mike, putting an arm around his wife.

"Just finished," Mike responded curtly, turning. "Take him around once at a gallop, Cin."

"Once?" Lavinia asked, voice rising. "A Breeder's Cup Classic winner you're training and you want to take him around once." She snorted and added to Brad, "You should have her take him around twice, dear."

Brad frowned at Glory as Cindy turned the colt, heeling him into a canter and soon a light gallop.

"Maybe after we see how he comes out of this," Brad shrugged. "Horseflesh is delicate, but in Glory's case I think he could stand the work."

Cindy shook her head angrily as she crouched over Glory's withers, feeling the powerful horse gallop down the track, instinctively skimming along the rail. "I don't know where she gets off, Glory," she told the colt, keeping her fingers held fast on his reins as he pulled at them, wanting to run.

Lavinia Townsend was the daughter of a wealthy family and liked to voice her inexperienced opinions in the matters of horse racing. Every day the Townsends came to Whitebrook it was the same. Tensions ran high, and the horses could feel it, always working apprehensively, making relationships worse. Cindy's frown deepened. If only Ashleigh could manage to buy the Townsend's share in Wonder and all her children. Then they could live in peace. But everyone knew that could never happen.

Glory snorted and began to round the last turn, showing his stuff. Cindy's frown brightened and she urged him a little faster, coming off the turn quickly and speeding by the gap. Cindy slowed Glory down, letting him ease into the next turn at a canter before she pulled him up. The gray colt acted like a prince, slowing to a halt and shaking his mane, plodding back to the gap. Cindy smiled and patted his neck.

"Good boy, Glory," she crooned. Glory snorted and swiveled his ears back to listen to her. Glory was usually a well-behaved colt, but sometimes he acted up on the track. Cindy was just glad he put in a stellar work for the Townsends, who were watching her every move.

"Great, Cindy," Mike called, walking over to take Glory's head as she dismounted. "I don't think we'll need another go around. We'll do some trotting tomorrow."

Lavinia huffed and put her hands on her hips, staring at the colt menacingly. "It looked to me that he could manage a second time around. If he's going to go to the Gulfstream meet in a few weeks he'll need it."

Mike shook his head and looked to Brad. "I had been meaning to tell you. Ashleigh and I have thought it over and we think taking him to Santa Anita would be more profitable."

Brad frowned and ran a gloved hand through his dark hair. "What makes you think that?" He asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Cindy took Glory's reins and stood by quietly, listening to the conversation and glancing at Samantha, who sat like a statue on Shining.

"The Big 'Cap," Mike said, walking off the track, making Brad turn to talk to him. "The Santa Anita Handicap."

"I know what Big 'Cap means," Lavinia sighed, turning away from the two men, her eyes running up and down Shining, who had beaten her filly, Her Majesty, several times last year.

Mike didn't glance back at Lavinia, but kept his gaze directly on Brad, who stood there, considering the option.

"What preps would you enter him in, if he were to go to Santa Anita?" Brad finally asked, acting civil for a change. Cindy didn't exactly trust it.

"The Strub, for one," Mike shrugged. "The preps aren't what we were looking at."

"The Big 'Cap is a million dollars," Brad sighed. "That's a big pot of money."

Lavinia turned back to the conversation, suddenly interested at the mention of money. "I say take him to Santa Anita then," she suddenly said, hooking her arm through Brad's. "The Santa Anita Handicap is worth two races at Gulfstream."

Brad frowned and said, "I'll talk to my father about this and get back to you."

Cindy rubbed Glory's nose, listening to Brad talk about his future made her sick. Mike nodded and watched as the two walked back to their Ferrari and sped away, slipping again over the icy gravel.

"I don't know what just happened there," Samantha said, dismounting Shining. "He actually seemed like it wasn't a big deal to go back on his plans for Glory."

Mike shook his head and sighed. "We'll find out in time," he ran a hand through his blond hair, cropped short, and patted Glory. "You can take him up to the barn now, Cin. Cool him out."

Cindy looked up at her gleaming gray champion and said, "I think Heather and I will take him out this afternoon. Take him out over the trails."

"That's fine," Mike nodded. "I'll be in the training barn if you need me."

Cindy patted Glory's shoulder and began to lead him up to the barn. The colt pranced along easily, shaking his head and nickering softly, pausing to playfully butt his head against her shoulder. Cindy rested a hand over his withers, calmly thinking about the colt. Hopefully he would go to Santa Anita in a few weeks, but with the Townsends planning his future, all Cindy could do was hope.