21.

"The First Mythical Saturday"

The alarm was going off insistently by the bedside, the glowing green numbers cutting through the dark room. Cindy groaned and opened her eyes a tiny bit, making out the digital numbers, sighing loudly as she reached over, grabbing the small clock off the bed stand before it could make another noise. She clicked the alarm off and tossed it off the bed, hearing the small thunk of the plastic against the carpeting.

She sighed, rolling over, nudging Jack's form, and trying to wriggle out from under his arm that wrapped around her. Suddenly his arm grew stronger and flexed around her, keeping her still.

"Jack," Cindy sighed, kicking at his legs.

"Ready and awaiting orders, sir," Jack mumbled, still half asleep.

Cindy chuckled through her sleepiness and pushed at his bare chest, finally getting him to open his eyes. "We've got to be at the track by six, otherwise Lucas may kill us."

"He isn't that sinister, Cindy," Jack said, letting her go as she sat up, tumbling out of the bed. "I think we can take him."

"Right," Cindy snorted, pushing at her tangled hair as she made her way across the hotel room, walking into the bathroom. "This is the Kentucky Derby," Cindy called as she pulled out her toothbrush and set to work. "It's going to be mass chaos down there if we don't hurry."

"It's already mass chaos over there, Cin," Jack stated, suddenly appearing leaning against the door, watching her brush her teeth. "That's a given."

"We stayed at that party too long," Cindy said through a mouthful of toothpaste, bending over to spit in the sink, rinsing her mouth out before looking back at Jack. "If you and Jack Nicholson hadn't hit it off so well I'd be a little more with it right now."

Jack started laughing, watching Cindy give him one of her classic frustrated looks.

"Really!" Cindy cried, walking over to the shower, turning it on. "Stayed up until two all because of Jack Nicholson. I'm surprised Ashleigh agreed to stay that long."

After a moment of testing the water, feeling the warm spray finally hit her fingertips, she chuckled. "Okay, that is a little funny," she admitted, glancing back at Jack, who was leaning against the door post, watching her with a wide grin on his face.

"I'm taking a shower now," Cindy informed him, watching him expectantly.

"So I see," Jack said, staying put.

"Jack," Cindy lowered her voice, giving him a threatening growl.

He just laughed and shook his head, turning around and shutting the door behind him, calling, "It isn't like I haven't seen it all before, Cin."

"Watch it," Cindy called through the door, rolling her eyes with a playful smile before she climbed into the hot steam.

Cindy sat on Watchmaker's back, feeling the colt's powerful body underneath her as she stared out at the track, watching the other Derby contenders walk and canter along under the vast shadows of the twin spires.

Watchmaker snorted, bellowing a misty breath through his nostrils as he stepped out through the gap, his red body taunt with excitement as he pranced forward, lifting his hooves as though he were a dressage horse entering the arena, his ears pricked, red mane and tail billowing back in a soft breeze that swept over the track.

"Whoa, Red," Cindy murmured, feeling the colt beneath her as he trembled with the intensity of the morning works. The excitement was riding through the air, sweeping through the track on wings. NBC camera crews were setting up around the track, the massive black cameras swinging over the grandstand, capturing the warming colts, their coats dulled in the early morning light as they worked through their pre-race paces.

The grandstand was crawling with workers and the backside was bustling with activity. Everything was moving with the energy that radiated from the track in waves.

Cindy stared up at the massive grandstand, the twin spires pointing up at the barely blue sky as the sun began to rise over the horizon, showering the green and brown of the track with yellow light, beginning to paint the clubhouse with brightness. The moon still hung faintly in the west.

"This is the day," she heard a voice behind her.

"Yes it is," Cindy nodded, looking back at Ashleigh as the older woman slowed Russian Winter next to Watchmaker, the bay colt snorting and arching his neck proudly, shouldering against Watchmaker.

The red colt snorted back, glancing at Russian Winter out of white ringed eyes.

"Do you want to take them around together?" Ashleigh asked, tapping Russian Winter into a trot before Cindy could answer, the bay bouncing ahead of Watchmaker with a toss of his black mane.

Watchmaker snorted and kicked into a canter, sweeping by the bay colt before Cindy could even give the command, his white-marked legs kicking up dirt as he paused to throw up a small buck in play.

"Whoa," Cindy crooned, pulling the colt back down to a walk as she waited for Ashleigh and Russian Winter to catch up, looking over her shoulder as the bay colt trotted up to them, slowing to a walk as they reached Cindy and Watchmaker.
"He seems full of vigor," Ashleigh laughed, reaching over and patting the colt's red neck. "He may give the favorite here a run for his money."

Cindy nodded, silent. She watched Russian Winter as they walked along the outside of the track, the bay colt alert and fresh. He was indeed the favorite according to the morning line odds. He would probably stay there until post time, Cindy reasoned, keeping a light touch on Watchmaker's mouth, a small frown of concentration on her lips.

"These cameras are certainly disconcerting," Ashleigh chuckled as they walked by another television crew set up by the gauntlet, where the Derby runners would parade through on their way to the saddling paddock.

"I don't think Russian Winter has ever been near this kind of excitement," Ashleigh said, sitting back in the saddle as the bay settled next to Watchmaker.

"I wouldn't think so," Cindy agreed, watching the grandstand, knowing it would be filled completely in a few hours. Even the infield would be completely crowded. They had already set up the tents and the big screen televisions along the grassy lawn. "Nothing ever compares to Derby day," she added, running her fingers through Watchmaker's coarse mane as soon as she knew the colt was settled.

"True," Ashleigh grinned at Russian Winter, who was huffing as Sanditon, the chestnut winner of the Bay Shore Stakes, rumbled up next to them, his head craned up, and star-marked head lifted high as he galloped lightly by.

They walked around the track only once, the colts coming to the gap without ever breaking a sweat. Lucas was there to greet Cindy, his dark green eyes shining brilliantly as Watchmaker stepped off the track, his crimson coat gleaming in the rising sun, red on the horizon.

"I'll tell you this much," Lucas said as Cindy jumped off the well-made colt. "Even if he isn't the favorite for this race, he's sure going to give them a show."

Cindy laughed, leading the colt off the track as Well's Station came out of the barn, his regal bay head held high, ears pricked at the track curiously.

Ashleigh rode Russian Winter off the track, a camera trained on the bay's movements, the colt highlighted against the gray roofs of the grandstand, his wine-dark body tinted with red.

"It's certainly going to be a show," Ashleigh remarked, jumping off the bay colt, turning and giving Mike a thumbs up sign before heading back to the barns.

The day moved on faster than Cindy anticipated. Soon there was a sea of countless people moving through the gates of the grand old track, their brightly clothed bodies spreading out over the grandstand, the clubhouse, around the paddock, and congregating in the infield, tramping the green grass down to dirt trails as they set up to watch the greatest race ever run.

Cindy had two races to go through on the under card. They were both allowances, but to gain this much attention they were high class and notable, with high purses and the best pedigrees.

Cindy was riding the favorite in the first race of the day, at eleven thirty in the morning, and the stands were packed. The sky was a roar of small planes trailing huge banners and, as usual, the Good Year blimp was in attendance, faithfully droning through the sky in tight circles around the track.

Beaten Path, her bay colt for the first race, a Baffert colt of three years, was not at ease with the crowd, and came in a fighting third after putting up a royal fit in the paddock, spooked by the gathering mob.

Her second race, the third on the card, was on Perfect Sparkle, Lucas' small bay filly from Belmont. The filly easily rode out the roaring stands, standing like a rock in the paddock and striding through the tunnel and the post parade, meaning business. Cindy had never seen the filly so cool and collected, after riding her at Belmont and seeing how easily excitable the filly had been then.

Yet, today Perfect Sparkle defied her odds, sprinting to the lead in the final furlong and overtaking the leader, gunning it down the stretch as she skipped by the white rail, her beautiful bay head held high in her classic stargazer pose, defiant all the way to the finish line.

It was a good sign, if Cindy believed in signs, for the Kentucky Derby. It was also a good sign for Watchmaker, whose odds suddenly became four to one after Perfect Sparkle's race.

"Perfect!" Lucas grinned as Cindy rode the filly into the winner's circle, the small concrete slab in the side of the grandstand.

"Very funny," Cindy said, returning the older man's grin as the filly stopped for the cameras, stamping one black marked leg as the camera shutters clicked before Cindy jumped off.

"It's good for Red's odds," Lucas said, handing the filly off to her groom, the bay prancing off down the track again, heading for the backside. Cindy nodded, knowing the crowd's betting habits. As much as people tended to bet on past performances, luck and experience of the human counterparts was also important, and a trainer of a Derby runner who did well on Derby day with other horses was a bonus.

"Well," Lucas glanced at his watch as Cindy pulled the tie out of her hair, rotating her old shoulder, wishing the ache would stop. "You've got a while before coverage for the Derby even starts. Why don't you get cleaned up and come up to Skye Terrace to eat lunch?"

Cindy frowned, glancing up at the sky, watching the blimp float over like a giant silver bullet gliding gracefully through the cloudless expanse of blue.

"I think I'm up for that. I've got a few hours before NBC starts their interview with me and Ashleigh," Cindy said, turning back to Lucas. "You don't have another runner?"

"Not until the Derby," Lucas grinned, obviously proud of this accomplishment. If either Watchmaker or Well's Station won the Derby it would be his first win since Red Army in the big race, meaning tons of coverage and universal fame.

Lucas' smile got wider as he watched the people scurrying around the track, preparing it for the next race. "And in that race I've got two."

Cindy showered and changed, meeting up with Lucas and Jack at Skye Terrace, the huge dinning rooms along the fourth, fifth, and sixth levels of Churchill Downs, where the wealthy were waited on hand and foot. Only the prominent showed up there, and Cindy, as she walked through the grand dinning rooms, staring out at the track through the huge bays of windows, felt suddenly out of place as a jockey among the sea of money that made horse racing.

"Hey, Cin," Jack suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her aside. He was standing at the bar, and Cindy had nearly walked past him in her awe. Not even Ashleigh had taken her to Skye Terrace.

"Caught in a day dream, huh?" Jack asked her, nodding out to the track.

"It's hard not to be," Cindy murmured back, staring out at the completely crowded infield.

"Well," Jack drank the last of his scotch and turned around, leading Cindy down to the Dearharts and Lucas, who were already ordering. "This is the Kentucky Derby, babe."

"So it is," Cindy found herself murmuring before Mr. Dearhart began to boom.

"Here's our rider of the hour," John Dearhart laughed loudly, getting up as Cindy approached, smiling fondly. "Nice race you had out there on that filly."

"Thank you," Cindy nodded. "She's an exceptional filly."

"Of course," Maggie smiled politely, toying with her diamond necklace nervously, glancing out at the track time after time. "The way she ran out there, she may have beaten the Kentucky Oaks winner yesterday. Seattle Sound, the Godolphin filly."

"Perhaps," Lucas laughed, watching Cindy sit down, everyone settling around the beautifully done table. The waiter took their orders, glancing with annoyance when Cindy just asked for water, refusing a meal.

"I'm too nervous," Cindy admitted, fingering the white cloth napkin in front of her.

Jack chuckled, watching Cindy and then out at the track, his dusky blue eyes flicking over the vast crowds, his face suddenly quiet.

They talked quietly over lunch, the sun steadily pushing west, and the grandstand beginning to cast a slight shadow on the crowds. They watched the next race, a graded turf stakes for older horses, and for the first time Cindy saw John Dearhart silent, his frighteningly bright blue eyes watching the horses turn for home, fighting to the finish.

As a small chestnut with a stripe passed under the finish line a head in front, he said softly, "There's something about this place on Derby day. I came here nearly forty years ago, after I had taken over the family business, and saw the 1964 Derby, when Northern Dancer won in a new record time. I watched that colt just blow past the field, and that excitement. There was nothing like watching that race with the crowds. There's that feeling…"

He trailed off, watching the honey chestnut turn, coming back to the winner's circle, the colt streaked with sweat. Cindy watched John Dearhart closely as the old man turned back from the unbelievable view before them, smiling at Cindy.

"That's the sort of moment that you know you have to be a part of at least once. I'm sure I'm going to feel it again today with this colt. It's in his blood. I just know it."

Cindy sat in the women's side of the jockey's room, staring at the crop in her hands, her long blond hair falling in a cascade of gold down her arms. She could hear Ashleigh in the bathroom, the water running softly in the background of the older woman's singing as she prepared. It was almost five o'clock, when the broadcast started over national television. The other jockeys, in the men's side, were most likely already watching the beginning of the broadcast. Instead, Cindy sat in silence, fighting the nerves that had suddenly descended upon her in the quiet moments before she had to walk out of the jockey's room and down into the paddock.

"To our newest jockey, with love," Cindy murmured, running her fingers over the old, worn crop. She sighed and stood up, turning to inspect herself in the long mirror by her duffel bag. The forest green silks were glossy under the flourescent lights, the white bars wrapping around her arms in pearly white against the darkness of the green.

Her hands were shaking as she pulled out her hair tie, reaching behind her head to pull her disorderly hair into a pony tail, yanking it through several loops before it managed to sit behind her neck in some form of order. She would have done some sort of braid, if she thought her shaking fingers could handle it.

"Are you all set?" Ashleigh asked, walking out from the bathroom in her blue and white silks, smoothing down the white pants, her hair pulled behind her head tightly.

"Sure," Cindy said, flicking the worn racing crop against her boots nervously.

"You still use that thing?" Ashleigh asked, noticing the old crop, the burned letters in the handle.

Cindy glanced down at it as she turned to grab her helmet. "Huh?" she frowned, shrugging at the crop. "It's my racing crop. It's sort of a good luck charm, I guess."

Ashleigh smiled, shrugging in return. "Well, some people wear their underwear inside out, others have lucky racing crops. I'm glad to see you still use it, though."

Cindy nodded, the overwhelming feeling of her stomach beginning to turn keeping her from saying much in response.

"Are you okay?" Ashleigh asked, coming up to Cindy's side as the younger jockey sat down again, taking a deep breath.

"Nerves," she managed to gasp, sucking in another deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I've never felt like this," she added, trying to smile at Ashleigh and failing miserably.

"Oh, Cindy," Ashleigh laughed, putting an arm around her, squeezing her shoulders. "You've been to races like this. In fact, you raced in a Derby before. There's no reason to be so nervous."

"Last time out it was different," Cindy protested, trying to stop the visible shaking in her hands. "Last time I was riding a long shot with a slim hope of getting in the top three. The expectations today are very different."

"Cindy," Ashleigh said, making the younger jockey look at her, her hazel eyes bright. "You're going to pull Watchmaker through this. That colt has the ability to run with a field of eighteen very competitive horses, and you have the ability to jockey against the best in the world. I know," Ashleigh stressed. "I practically taught you, didn't I?"

Cindy managed a sharp laugh, squeezing her eyes shut and then opening them, watching a reporter walk inside with a camera crew, a small entourage of Churchill Downs staff with them.

"Are you ready for this?" Ashleigh asked as the reporter walked up, motioning for the cameras to set up.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Cindy nodded, and she looked up at the cameras.

Over the past week Cindy had to admit that she felt something like a super star, the way the media had treated her. Cameras had been following everyone around for days as NBC put together specials on the favorites, the long shots, and the heart wrenching stories. Cindy had been at her fair share of photo shoots, being filmed and photographed, trying not to pay any attention to Jack, who watched behind the cameras, an amused as hell look on his face as Cindy tried to remain serious. She failed several times, bursting out laughing so much the director finally called it quits.

The interview wrapped up within minutes, cutting for time as the live broadcast moved on, and Cindy and Ashleigh were out of the room in a flash, pushing their way down to the paddocks.

The track was alive with people, crawling and humming with expectation as the anxious fans pressed against the paddock in the hour wait before the Kentucky Derby. Cindy paused before she entered the paddock behind Ashleigh, watching the walking ring, the eighteen horses already present, their healthy coats glittering in the afternoon sun. She spotted Watchmaker immediately, being led by his groom around the black walkway, his deep red coat shining different hues of crimson.

Cindy pushed open the gate and walked into the paddock, her dark green helmet under her arm, racing crop gripped in the same hand as she wove through the crowds, passing by the white, wooden stalls, nodding to trainers and jockeys. As she slipped up to the Whitebrook stall she stopped when she spotted a grinning Christina, giving the younger girl's hand a little squeeze as she smiled, pushing her way through.

"What's the time?" Cindy asked when she got to Lucas' stall for Well's Station, the trainer already inside, watching his two horses prance around the paddock, showing off for the crowds.

"Hey, Cin," Lucas smiled, checking his watch. "It's twenty-five after."

"Great," Cindy nodded, watching Well's Station, the vigorous bay tossing his head, his black mane waving behind him as he tested his groom, arching his thick chocolate neck. Lucas was saddling Well's Station for the Derby, as he had promised last year when the colt had won the Hollywood Futurity by three lengths, and his owners had promptly insisted on setting him to the Derby, no matter what.

"You're all set on the racing strategy right?" Lucas asked as Cindy moved to the side as horses began to stream by, all wide-eyed and snorting.

"What little there is of one," Cindy frowned, her brown eyes running over Watchmaker as the red colt pulled the groom by, the colt's white-marked head held low to the ground, his tail up like a bloody banner behind him. Cindy suddenly remembered her awe of the colt when she had first seen him in January. There had been no doubts about his ability.

"Still," Lucas frowned. "Jack will go over it again when you get to Red's stall."

Cindy nodded as Well's Station was brought into the stall, the bay colt snorting and wheeling around to face out, coming to a trembling stop to stare out at the hundreds of thousands of faces.

"I'll see you," Cindy said, touching Lucas' arm, who nodded back before Cindy made her way down the row again, nearly being run over by Townsend Grand, a huge bay, as the colt plowed into his stall, quivering and shaking his dark mane.

"Watch it, Cindy," she heard Brad behind her and she sighed, turning, surveying the dark haired older man before realizing she just didn't want to deal with him anymore.

"Please excuse my walking by, Brad," she smiled sweetly and turned back on her heel, walking to stall sixteen, glancing in on First Deputy and Command Central, the winners of the El Camino Real Derby and the Lafayette Stakes respectively. The two chestnuts looked calm in the roar of the crowds and the groups in the paddock.

Finally, she followed Watchmaker into his stall, the red colt tossing his finely shaped head and eyeing his surroundings out of white-ringed brown eyes. Cindy ducked around the corner as Watchmaker turned in his stall, looking out on the throbbing mass of people with pricked ears, his big eyes held wide.

Jack was leaning against the stall post, watching the red colt quietly before he swept his eyes to Cindy, and smiled.

Cindy grinned over at him, letting her eyes travel over his expensive, tailor-made suit before she said, "You look very professional."

Jack chuckled as Watchmaker began to fidget. "Why Cindy, is that a compliment?"

"Maybe," Cindy shrugged, glancing out at the crowded paddock before turning back and saying: "Don't let it go to your head."

Jack only laughed before setting to work, spreading out the blue Kentucky Derby blanket over Watchmaker's red back. Cindy watched him as he worked, glancing out at the throngs of people pressing against the railing, milling about. The noise they were generating created a nervous intensity around the track, making Cindy set to fidgeting, her eyes glancing between the amazingly crowded track to the red colt, standing hesitantly as Jack tightened the girth, making sure everything was set.

"Okay," Jack said, giving the colt a final pat before turning to Cindy.

"Strategy," Cindy frowned, biting her lip and chewing thoughtfully. "There isn't much of one."

"I know," Jack said, watching the horses begin to walk around the walkway again, their small saddles in place on their backs. The groom led out Watchmaker and the beautiful red colt followed after him, prancing and tossing his crimson mane.

"There's going to be a massive crush in the front," Jack frowned, his eyes glancing over the horses as they walked by. "Over half of those horses are going to go for a position just behind the pace, and Thirty Stars and Factory Line are going to get to the front before you based on post position alone."

"We're going to have to stay with the plan," Cindy muttered, her eyes following Watchmaker as he walked around, prancing behind Rawun, the big bay sweating and carrying on, jerking his head up with each step.

"Keep him on the outside," Jack nodded, agreeing. "If you angle in you're going to get caught in the middle, and the race will be lost at the first turn. Shoot for at least fourth."

"Okay then," Cindy said, watching the Dearharts approach from a conversation with the crown prince of Dubai.

"How's Watchmaker doing?" Maggie asked, wringing her hands with worry. The older woman looked like a nervous wreck and to channel her nerves she seemed to want to fiddle with anything capable of being toyed with. She stood inside the stall, looking around her like a bird, her wide brimmed blue hat sweeping back and forth.

"He's doing surprisingly well," Jack nodded, watching the crimson colt trot past, his white hooves clomping against the walkway. "Compared to some of the other colts, in any case."

Cindy nodded, watching Eyes on the Prize, the bay Lone Star Derby winner, plunge past, shaking his jet mane and rearing, nearly slamming into a cameraman.

"I don't have any doubts," John Dearhart said loudly, taking his wife's arm and patting her hand, smiling at her confidently. "This is Watchmaker's moment."

"It certainly is," Cindy mused to herself, trying to calm her nerves. Moments ago she had contemplated throwing up in the jockey's room, and now she was standing out in front of all the nation, about to ride the Santa Anita Derby winner in the greatest race in America, if not the world.

The horses were returning to their stalls as the cameras swept over the paddock again, commentators chattering loudly, and reporters dashed between stalls. Cameras halted outside Watchmaker's stall and peered in for moments before sweeping on. Reporters stopped to interview Jack and Lucas, and other owners stepped in to greet the Dearharts.

Suddenly, as Jack glanced down at his watch and then gave Cindy an unmistakable look, the call came out across the paddock.

"Riders up!"

Cindy looked back at Jack and he held up his arm. "Hold up, Cindy," he murmured, looking down the line of horses who were stepping haltingly out of their stalls, jockeys getting legs up onto their backs.

"Riders up!"

"Okay," Jack nodded as Eyes on the Prize and One Moment filed past, their jockeys busy preparing in the saddle, collecting the reins.

"Stay on the outside," Jack said, tossing Cindy up into Watchmaker's saddle. Cindy looked down as she gathered the reins, settling in the saddle. "It's going to be a crush on the rail," he said as the horses pranced past.

Cindy caught the blue and white silks of Ashleigh on Russian Winter as they moved by, the bay colt dancing and stamping his fore hooves as he went. The mob of people was getting louder, roaring in Cindy's ears as she waited.

"Outside," Cindy nodded. "No wire to wire victory today."

"Yeah," Jack chuckled. "It's going to be a knock-down-drag-out fight. And you're going to have to fight for this one, Cin."

Cindy watched Blue Dubai, Well's Station, and Townsend Grand move past, their eyes rolling at the noise, snorting and sweating in the heat of the Kentucky afternoon.

"I got you, Jack," Cindy nodded. It was her turn.

"I know," Jack nodded. "Go and kick butt, Cin."

"Will do," Cindy grinned, looking over her shoulder at him as they headed out, the red colt pausing to rear slightly on his hind legs before jumping forward, dragging the groom along with him.

Sanditon and Idle Majesty moved out behind them and that was it. Cindy swivelled in the saddle and saw Lucas walk up to Jack, the two men talking quietly, nodding as the horses began to disappear underneath the tunnel to reappear on the track, their coats glistening with sweat as they caught a look at the multitudes in the grandstand.

Cindy turned, settling herself in the saddle as they moved under the grandstand, the red colt huffing excitedly as he was handed off to the palomino out rider.

As they came out of the tunnel, the sun sliding over the colt's blood red back, Cindy stared up at the grandstand once, taking in the magnitude of it all. She could hardly believe the turn out.

After a full moment of staring up at the stands, she turned away, listening to Watchmaker as the great red colt snorted, jerking on the reins as they pranced by, making a small turn as they began the post parade.

Cindy stared straight ahead, ignoring the rumbling stands and the thousands of faces that looked down on them. Watchmaker sauntered over the tilled dirt, his head held low, neck arched, his ears flicking around excitedly as he stepped high with his white hooves.

"Easy," Cindy murmured as the red colt snorted, bounding forward a little, shaking his bloody mane. The outrider tightened his grip on the colt as Watchmaker danced away from the palomino, shoving his head over the Quarter Horse's withers.

"Never know what they're going to do on Derby day," the outrider said, cracking a smile at Cindy. "Never seen so many people in their lives, I suspect."

Cindy nodded, finding that she was too nervous to respond. Watchmaker jerked his head up and danced back to the palomino, bobbing his head as they began to canter, passing by the gate.

Cindy leaned forward for the warm up, breaking into a gallop in the far turn. Watchmaker snorted deeply, eyeing Sanditon as the other colt galloped around him, his head up, eyes ringed in white.

"Whoa," Cindy crooned to the colt, testing out her vocal cords. Watchmaker flicked his ears back, slowing as they turned, heading back to the gate.

There was a sea of horses in front of them, rising and falling as they came toward the gate. Cindy could pick out Ashleigh and Russian Winter in the massive group of hooves, beating into the dirt at a staccato pace. She looked calm and collected - like she had done this a hundred times before.

Watchmaker trotted toward the gate as though he were on a mission. His head was craned up, burgundy mane waving behind him in a slight breeze that was picking up, stirring the warm air over the track.

The crowds were getting louder as they neared the gate, and Cindy's heart was beating faster, thudding against her ribcage. Eyes On The Prize was being loaded, as well as Model T, in post ten.

The group stopped behind the gate, beginning to mill as the track announcer, Dave Johnson, began to talk over the crowds. Cindy watched the horses heading into the gate in pairs. One Moment headed into post two, and Blue Dubai, in post eleven. Blue Dubai kicked out, scattering the assistants before they closed the back doors, going on to the rest of the horses. Factory Line and Well's Station moved into line, followed by Countdown and Townsend Grand. Thirty Stars and First Deputy next as an assistant came to take Watchmaker's bridle, the outrider wishing Cindy luck as he wheeled around and off the track. Ashleigh and Russian Winter were next, the bay heading forward easily, his head up, nostrils delicately flared. Before the colt stepped into the gate, Ashleigh turned around, and smiled at Cindy, raising her crop to her helmet in a silent salute. Cindy nodded back, giving Ashleigh a small smile before Russian Winter was closed inside the gate. It was Cindy's turn now.

Watchmaker huffed as the assistant led him forward. He lowered his head and flicked his ears anxiously at the gate, pausing before the assistant led him inside, the chestnut colt walking easily into the gate as the assistant jumped up on the little ledge beside his head, keeping the colt still. Cindy glanced down at the colt before she pulled the goggles over her eyes and wove her fingers into the colt's red mane. She could hear the horses milling in the gate. Command Central was snorting and shaking his head, banging quietly in the gate as Sanditon loaded, followed closely by Idle Majesty.

There was a half second as Cindy looked forward, feeling the nervous energy in Watchmaker as the stands suddenly went silent, the whole nation watching the starting gate. And then, suddenly, the bell shrilled out over the gate and the doors banged open.

Watchmaker roared; digging in and plunging, his head beautifully arched as Cindy urged him forward. The colt broke fast. He was nearly airborne before he began to gallop, flying down the middle of the track as the field moved in, Factory Line and Thirty Stars grabbing the lead at the front of the pack. Cindy glanced to her inside and moved the colt in, finding a spot on the outside of the pack as Sanditon and Idle Majesty dropped back.

The blood red colt galloped slowly on the outside as Factory Line led the way, Thirty Stars just behind in second. On Cindy's inside was a solid wall of five horses, and she settled Watchmaker next to Rawun, hanging back in seventh.

It was immediately obvious that Watchmaker was confused. Cindy felt the colt jerk on the reins as they plowed past the grandstand for the first time. His mind was set on being in front, and Cindy fought the colt, keeping him on the outside, plastered to Rawun's side as they churned down the track.

She kept glancing inward, watching the huge crush of ten horses vying for a position behind the leaders, the jockeys yelling at their mounts and to each other. Rawun's giant body heaved next to Watchmaker, his big bay head pulled back as his jockey attempted to check the colt, keeping him from running over Townsend Grand, who was holding position in fourth.

The pace was slow as they galloped into the turn, passing the quarter mile marker. Cindy couldn't tell who was where on the inside. She didn't dare look behind her now. With Rawun fighting hard on her inside, and Watchmaker desperately pleading for more rein, she had her hands full keeping the red colt out of the fray.

Factory Line plodded through the turn. Cindy had known this would happen. With Factory Line setting slow fractions, the rest of the horses were piled up in front, not daring to move past and still trying to find a good spot among the crush of their bodies.

Watchmaker ran on, bellowing thick snorts with each stride. Cindy jumped when she felt Rawun brush against them, his head finally lowering, pressed against Cindy's side. Watchmaker pulled hard on the reins, moving up the pack as they poured into the backstretch, Thirty Stars taking the lead from Factory Line as they approached the half mile marker.

Cindy checked Watchmaker softly, feeling the colt's bottled fury at being kept behind the pace. He was a ball of nervous energy as Thirty Stars led the way to the turn, the group inside finally beginning to break apart, their horses exhausted from the fight to find a position. Watchmaker was still kicking, beginning to move away from Rawun as the field rolled into the second turn.

The atmosphere changed in a split second. Jockeys calling to their horses to settle twenty seconds ago were now urging them, their fingers twitching on the reins. The leaders were tiring, the crowds were roaring, and Cindy unconsciously gathered Watchmaker in preparation for the final drive.

Rawun was finished, and Watchmaker put him behind easily as they sailed to the quarter pole. The horses who had no prayer of finishing well were laboring, and Cindy was flying past them, the crop twirling up in her fingers as she lifted it and brought it down on Watchmaker's hind quarters. The colt bounded forward, ripping the reins through Cindy's loosened grip as he put away Townsend Grand and hurtled past the rapidly tiring Factor Line.

Cindy crouched against the colt's neck, flicking the whip past his eye and then bringing it lightly down again on his body, urging him forward as she heard and felt a rapidly approaching assault from behind. She didn't need to glance behind her to know who it was. Cindy didn't dare take her eyes off the finish line, even when the flash of blue and white silks caught her eye. Russian Winter was there, breathing down their neck.

They passed Thirty Stars as one, the colts drawing alongside each other like galleons preparing for battle. All Cindy could do was encourage her mount and hope for the wire. She knew Ashleigh could only be thinking the same thing. Russian Winter stretched out as Watchmaker gathered. The wire loomed, they surged, and then it was over.

The noise was deafening. Cindy stood up in the stirrups, looking up at the grandstand, and then at Ashleigh, who was smiling.

"Well," she said with a shrug. "I think congratulations are in order."

"You didn't see," Cindy said, looking over at her as the horses rolled into a canter, huffing and slowing by themselves. She couldn't have seen. They were too close at the end to know with any certainty.

"I just know," Ashleigh said, then reached out and patted Cindy on the back. "Good job, Cin."

Russian Winter broke into a trot and Ashleigh turned away, leaving Cindy gaping after her. Her stomach was in knots, her mouth dry. It occurred to her that she was more nervous now than she was at the beginning of the race. Watchmaker shortened his stride and fell back into a trot and then an ambling walk, shaking his mane and finally coming to a puzzled halt as Cindy sat immobile in the saddle.

Suddenly a new roar went up in the stands. An outrider was coming out to collect them, the white horse cantering over the harrowed dirt, red roses woven through its mane. Finally, it all crashed over Cindy like a tidal wave and she wrapped an arm around Watchmaker's sweaty, dirt-streaked neck, pressing her check against his mane.

"You are amazing," she whispered to the colt, and then straightened, patting him soundly on the shoulder. Watchmaker snorted and squealed at the outrider's horse, shaking his head and dancing for effect. They were going to the winner's circle, and Cindy could have floated the entire way.