6.
Before the heat had burned off the morning mist, Cindy sat in the muggy atmosphere on the back of Sunday Punch, letting the colt bound down the track. The gray was all spitfire, his multicolored mane waving in the heavy air, and his shoulders and chest already darkened with sweat. Cindy didn't intend on riding him much longer, so she brought him down to a smooth canter and rode out the colt's ground eating stride.
As she went by the gap, no one was there to watch her. Lucas was up in the timer's stand, watching from a distance. David was up in the barn, preparing Wonderment. Cindy did not know where Jack was so she continued to stride along on Sunday's back, letting the colt ease himself down to a perky walk down the outside of the track.
It had been a loud morning. Cindy was amazed that she had come away from last night without a hangover, but Laura was much worse off. In fact, Cindy had ridden Fresh Tactics in his morning work for her roommate, leaving Laura at home in bed. Cindy had refused to eat breakfast and gotten to the track in time to take out the first string, working up to the moment with Sunday. She was still wondering if she really hadn't eluded a hangover. Nervousness was quickly becoming confused with sickness, but already Cindy hardly had time to wonder about it. In two hours she would have to be in the jockey's room, and if nervousness was actually sickness that was when she would worry.
Cindy pulled Sunday up at the gap when she saw David walking down with a groom, Wonderment by his side. The young chestnut colt was staring off into the distance, his ears pricked and his mane softly waving in the light breeze. Cindy looked up at the sky and noticed with mixed emotions that rain clouds were approaching.
"Rain?" Cindy groaned, leaping off of Sunday and handing him off to the groom, giving her future mount a firm pat on his sweaty neck.
"So it looks," David responded, turning to give the groom instructions before Sunday disappeared in the shed row.
"I have to say I'm not sure if I like that," Cindy said. "When is it supposed to hit?"
"Later this afternoon," David assured her. "I don't think it will do much to the track. Hopefully it will just make this humidity lighten up a little."
"It never works the way you want," Cindy frowned, walking up to Wonderment. The chestnut snorted and shook himself. Cindy noticed he was already beginning to look damp underneath his saddle and girth.
"Lucas and I have decided on a four furlong breeze," David told her, giving her a leg up onto the colt's back. "He might be headed to his maiden at the end of this month, so it's time to start working him."
"Okay," Cindy nodded, settling herself in the saddle.
"You'll be going out of the gate. Lucas wants a nice, stable work. Don't push him. Also, wait until we get John and Kylie out here to work with you."
Cindy paused at the gap, looking down at David.
"Have you seen Jack anywhere?" she asked. "I lost him when we got in."
"Nope," David shook his head. "Haven't seen him today."
"Okay," Cindy said, turning Wonderment and heading out to the track to warm up. Cindy let Wonderment dance down the track, her mind not focused on what she was doing. The rain clouds were just showing up over the grandstand at Saratoga, and Jack was nowhere to be found. She knew riding Wonderment was her top priority at the moment, but she found her mind wandering away from the task at hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw John and Kylie ride out onto the track on their own horses, a gelding and another colt that weren't as blue-blooded as Wonderment, but had the kick and speed to keep up with him for as long as it took. That was all that Lucas was looking for in them, which was saddening to Cindy. Wonderment was Lucas' star two-year-old at Saratoga, and these horses, who had names and promise, were nothing more than companions for Wonderment.
Softly, Cindy slowed the colt down; meeting the others near the gate after everyone had warmed up adequately. Wonderment was to go into the second hole, and Cindy leaned forward as they were loaded, rubbing her hand against the colt's withers. The chestnut snorted softly at the gate in front of him, but stood still, eying the gelding to his outside.
Then the gate clanged open unceremoniously and Wonderment charged out of it, all fire and grace. He didn't take the lead immediately, but that was the point. He didn't like taking the lead immediately, and so Cindy let him lie in wait on the other colt's hindquarters, catching the dirt from the other horse's hooves. At some point in every horse's career they had to learn that getting hit with dirt was part of their life. Wonderment didn't seem to mind at all.
As they swept past the third major marker, Cindy began to work on Wonderment, giving him a slight push. The colt responded and took charge, bounding up the other colt's side within three strides and pushed his nose in front. The gelding was also coming on strongly, roaring up on the outside as the three horses galloped abreast down the final furlong.
Cindy pushed her hands into the red colt's mane, feeling a smile coming to her face as Wonderment switched leads and blew past the last marker. She stood up in the stirrups, collecting the colt and slowing him with the others.
"Damn," John whistled, pulling up next to her on the other colt. "I don't think we'll ever catch him."
"Shut up, John," Kylie laughed, tugging her gelding down to a manageable canter. "It's not like we're talking about the next Secretariat."
Cindy grinned secretly between them.
Before the races for the day had started, Cindy was rummaging around in her trunk, trying to put together her spilled duffle bag and to discern and rescue her things from Laura's scattered belongings. The sky above her was dark and angry, the clouds swollen. So far there had been no thunder or lightning, and by the stiff breeze riding over the track Cindy hoped it would blow over. There was nothing more disgusting than riding through a mud pit.
"You need some help?" she heard a voice approaching, accompanied by footsteps crunching on gravel. She peered over her trunk and saw David approaching, one hand in the pocket of his pants and the other holding his jacket. She noticed he had changed to his professional, tailored suit. It was only one of the few times she had seen him dress as wealthy as he was.
"Oh, no," Cindy shook her head. "I've got the last of it."
"How's Laura feeling?" he asked, stopping next to her and looking in the trunk.
"Oh, Laura," Cindy groaned, looking at her roommate's things. She had forgotten that she had to get them together. She had promised Laura that when they had run into each other between the backside and the jockey's room.
"What?" David asked, looking at her as he picked up Laura's racing crop.
"I forgot I've got to get all her stuff to her," Cindy explained. "She's waiting in the jockey's room."
"I'll help," David offered, picking up some of Laura's equipment and putting it in the bag as Cindy set her duffel down and did the same. She smiled her thanks as she shoved everything in the bag and zipped it up, barely brushing her hands over his to lift it out of the trunk. She jumped back.
"Sorry," she said, slamming the car door shut and turning to grab her bag also.
"You know, those are heavy," he told her, ignoring her mumbled apology.
Cindy let out a short laugh. "I can handle it."
"Let me carry it," he said, picking up her bag before she could grab it. Cindy stalled and looked at him carefully, clutching her car keys in her left hand and carrying Laura's bag in her right.
"Well," Cindy paused, shrugging. "I guess it couldn't hurt."
"Of course not," David laughed, walking with her away from the backside. "These two bags combined probably weigh more than you."
"I think that's an exaggeration," Cindy told him, walking down to the grandstand.
"Maybe so," David said, looking over at her. The grandstand was still empty, but as Cindy looked at her watch she realized she had less than fifteen minutes before the gates opened and she had to be in the jockey's room. Unconsciously she began to move a little faster.
"Hey," David said. "Where's the fire?"
"The track opens in less then fifteen minutes," Cindy pointed out. "I've got to rush."
"You feel like running?"
"Okay, I'm not in that desperate of a need to get there."
"Just what I thought."
Cindy laughed, walking up the steps and through the door to get to the jockey's room. She paused in the hallway, looking over at David.
"My bag, sir," she said, smiling at him. He handed it to her with a casual bow. Cindy arched an eyebrow and said her thank yous.
"Thanks," she added, nodding to him and turning for the jockey's room.
"Oh, hey," David said suddenly, grabbing Cindy's arm. Cindy started and turned around, looking up at him. David seemed just as tall as Jack, and she found it difficult to look up at him.
"I was wondering if you knew about the dinner tonight," David said, letting go of her. Cindy furrowed her eyebrows and squeezed her hands around the handles of the bags. They were beginning to ache, and she wanted to set one or both down for a minute.
"Dinner?" Cindy asked, as though she hadn't heard or understood him.
"Yeah, a few of the owners in this race are pretty good friends and they're having a dinner afterward around seven. The Sunday Punch crew is invited - you, Jack, Lucas, and I - and I was wondering if you were interested in coming along with me."
Cindy couldn't have been more shocked, and she found that her mouth had dropped open. She had forgotten about the dinner, and after hardly seeing either Lucas or Jack all day she didn't have a reminder.
"Oh," she stumbled, trying to recover. "Oh, right. I think I had forgotten about that with all of the activity around here," she attempted.
"You're going?" David asked.
"Yeah," Cindy said quickly. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I was planning to just go with Lucas and Jack while they're staying with me."
"Of course," David nodded. "I guess I'll see you there."
"Yeah," Cindy nodded, more than a little confused.
"Good luck in the race, Cin. You've been stellar with Sunday so far."
"Thanks," Cindy said, watching him walk on down the hall. Cindy stared after him, rolled her eyes with frustration, and pushed her way into the jockey's room.
"Could you have taken longer?" Laura asked the moment she walked in. Cindy groaned at her and dropped her roommates bag at her feet, kicking it over to Laura.
"Don't thank me or anything," Cindy replied sarcastically. "It's really no problem to haul your heavy junk around."
Laura laughed and opened up the duffel bag, pulling out a few things. "Thanks, Cin. I owe you."
"Yeah, you do," Cindy replied, realizing she sounded uptight and annoyed. She never liked guys asking her out for a few basic reasons. It meant that someone had been thinking about her in a way that didn't make her comfortable, and just having to live through the whole process of turning someone down exhausted her.
"What's wrong?" Laura asked, right on cue. Cindy shook her head.
"Nothing's wrong," Cindy replied. "I'm just riding in the first race. I need to get ready."
"Nah," Laura shook her head. "Something's not right here. I've got a horse in the first race, and I'm just now recovered from last night. I don't look like you."
"Laura," Cindy snapped. "I'm not talking about it, okay?"
"Fine," Laura held up her hands, giving Cindy and exasperated look before picking up her flak jacket and slipping it on over her tank top. "Pretend I said nothing."
"I will," Cindy replied, pulling on the gold and white colors of the owners she was representing in the first race. She tucked the slippery material into her white pants and pulled her thick hair into a ponytail, wishing she could somehow avoid David for the rest of the summer and knowing it just wasn't a possibility.
Later on in the day, Cindy sat miserably in the women's side of the jockey's room, wiping the mud and sweat from her face. She was alone, and the preparations for the Jim Dandy were raging on the track. There was a television inside the jockey's room, and Cindy had it on and positioned so she could see it behind her in the mirror as she cleaned up.
It was pouring out, and every time she glanced behind her to see the television she could barely see the horses warming up in the deluge on the backside. The camera was focusing in on Fresh Tactics, the chestnut colt soaked with water and Laura not looking much better. Cindy sighed and splashed her face with water, getting rid of the rest of the mud. By the time she was slipping into her dark blue and red silks of Sunday Punch's owners, the field for the Jim Dandy was already coming down to the wire. Fresh Tactics was hot on Linebacker's heels, and beginning to push past the other colt by the time the finish line flashed overhead. Laura was the winner by two inches of a nose.
Cindy had never really taken a chance to take a long look at the competition in the Amsterdam. She knew their stats, and how they ran and what they were expected to do, but as far as sitting down and looking at them she hadn't been interested until now. As she stood under an umbrella, staring at the soaked horses walking through the fat drops of rain and splash in the puddles along the way, she had a feeling that she had missed her chance.
There were eight horses to contend with. Three were top notch sprinters with records of grade one wins dating back to the year before. High Fever Blues was the favorite, a big bay that looked rather tired and dull in the rain. Only Man was the second favorite, a small and delicate chestnut that was a well known mudder. The most famous of the bunch was the Gotham Stakes winner from the spring, Complaint, who had been on the Triple Crown trail before it became clear he wasn't cut out for distance. Brokenhearted was the only filly in the race, a lightly built bay with a history of beating the colts.
Cindy couldn't help letting her eye catch on Streamline, a colt owned by Townsend Acres. He was a big chestnut by Townsend Spirit, a champion sprinter and well-known sire. The other three were toss up factors. Eagle Bird, Matador, and Can't Be Touched were the long shots with reason. Cindy watched them go by without interest.
"High Fever Blues isn't looking like he's interested in the rain," David commented, holding the umbrella over both of them. Cindy didn't look up at him, but nodded her agreement. "You're right. I think he's a little off today," she agreed.
"The crowds are making Only Man the favorite," David said, keeping her up to speed. "You'll have to watch out for him. He loves the mud and with those shoes on he might not be stopped."
"I can catch him," Cindy said, feeling her inflated courage rise to the challenge again.
David smiled over her and she didn't see him, keeping her eyes locked on Sunday Punch as she pranced by with his groom, flicking his dark ears back and forth. The horses had not been saddled yet, and the colt's dappled gray back was wet and darker from the rain. The groom walking at his side wore a slicked down poncho, water dripping off the plastic.
Cindy stood in her blue and red silks, plucking at the soaked material and watching the water seep out around the pads of her fingers. With a sigh, Cindy let go of the silks and shifted her weight with impatience. David was making small talk, but she was growing tired of it and as the rain continued to patter around them in large drops all she really wanted was to get the race going so she could dry off.
Finally, Sunday Punch was brought to a halt in front of them and out of the corner of Cindy's eye she could see Jack and Lucas walking up. Both looked somber and silent under black umbrellas, and Cindy suddenly felt like she was at a funeral rather than a horse race.
"Long time, no see," Cindy called out to Jack, who looked up her way and didn't smile. Cindy raised an eyebrow as she felt David shift behind her. Part of her wanted to shake both of them out of their obvious dislike of each other, but she settled for giving Jack a nudge as he stopped next to her, snaking her arm out from under the umbrella and catching the arm of his dry suit.
"What?" Jack asked her, cracking a grin for the sake of doing it. Cindy looked up at him and scowled. "Did you miss me?"
"Oh, shut up, Jack," Cindy shook her head, turning away and watching Lucas saddle up Sunday. The compact gray snorted again and shook his mane, splattering everyone with a shower of raindrops. The paddock was fairly quiet, and Cindy jumped when she heard the call for riders up.
Sunday was dancing on his toes, tossing his head up and down with energy despite the dull day. David moved away with the umbrella and Cindy felt the first large drops of rain connect with her face and stick to her eyelashes. She turned to Jack with a silent question and he gave her a leg up without a word, letting his hand rest on her calf for a little longer than Cindy had anticipated. Then again, she scolded herself, she was just looking for signs that seemed good to her. He lifted his hand a second later and gave Sunday a pat on the neck.
She turned away and gathered the reins as the groom led them through the rain and to the track. She didn't look back.
The track was slop, and Cindy wasn't thinking. The only thing on her mind was Jack's silent face, and it nearly made her want to scream. Everything was wonderful last night. There was no reason to avoid her as far as she was concerned. Cindy set her mouth in a thin line and rose in the stirrups, feeling Sunday pick up the pace and leap into a warm up gallop. They passed by the gate and rolled into the backstretch, kicking up mud and slicing through the rain.
The fat raindrops slapped at Cindy's cheeks, but she didn't bother to brush them away. She turned the colt with her escort and approached the gate, letting Sunday dance along next to Brokenhearted, who squealed at the colt and flicked her black tail with agitation.
"She's not one for the boys," her jockey laughed over to Cindy, who smiled wryly as Sunday blissfully ignored the antics of the filly.
"I don't think this one is ready for the girls yet anyway," she called back, patting Sunday's soaked neck as the colt bounced into the gate, tossing his head up when the assistant starter took a grab for his bridle.
"Whoa," Cindy muttered, sitting still as the colt hit the side of the stall just as a roll of thunder shook the clouds in the west. The storm would be getting stronger soon, she knew. The track might close after this race.
In front of her, a new wave of rain beat down the track as the rest of the horses lined up in the gate. Cindy pulled down her rain slicked goggles and gripped onto the rubber lining of the reins, weaving her fingers into a hunk of mane.
The gates slammed open.
Sunday roared out of the gate, splashed through the early puddles that had formed underneath his hooves, and joined the fray of other horses battling for the lead. Cindy pushed the colt, who had precious little time to find a spot and run. The race was only six furlongs and time wasted at the beginning would prove disastrous.
Only Man was already on the lead, with High Fever Blues on his flank and already rushing up to challenge. Cindy settled Sunday behind the leaders on the rail, where the colt liked to run.
Then the clouds opened up. Cindy blinked as everything around her turned into a monsoon. Mud was still being thrown into her face, but she could only see outlines of the horses in front of her. Quickly, she stripped her first layer of goggles and found High Fever Blues and Only Man still battling down the stretch and into the turn. Brokenhearted was to their immediate right, with Streamline and Matador running just behind them.
Then she could see nothing.
Cursing, Cindy whipped off the next layer of goggles and found herself in the middle of the turn. Sunday was already moving on his own, picking up speed by his own momentum and excitement. Cindy encouraged him, pushing softly with her hands. The colt felt the push and began to really move, cutting into High Fever Blues' lead and coming up on the inside of Only Man.
Suddenly they were in the homestretch and Sunday was running abreast with High Fever Blues, battling for the lead. Cindy changed her goggles again and brought out the whip as they flashed by the quarter mile marker, feeling Sunday quivering with energy. She gave him the go ahead.
The gray switched leads and bounded by High Fever Blues, skipping through the mud and the downpour. Then, on the outside, Cindy saw Brokenhearted and Streamline coming on, sprinting all out to the finish. Cindy showed Sunday the whip and smacked his hindquarters to get the colt's attention. With that, the colt put on another round of speed and slid through the finish first, covered in mud and dripping wet. The rain didn't stop to approve.
That evening the rain still hadn't stopped. Cindy was standing on the second floor of the hotel before the bay of windows that overlooked the track and wondered if the rain was planning on stopping before it washed the entire track away. As predicted, all other races on the card had been canceled. Just after Sunday had left the winner's circle the rain had been joined with a lightning storm and the track shut down.
Cindy stood in her gray suit, her hands crossed over her white silk top and tailored jacket. The outfit had been a birthday present from her mother several years ago, when Cindy had been training Glory's Joy. Her mom had thought that dresses looked too unprofessional in the winner's circle, where Joy had been several times during her time with Cindy. The suit had made Cindy look at least three years older, and now Cindy could hardly wear it without thinking back to the gray filly and how Joy had always tried to rub her sweaty head on it after finishing first. She smiled at the memory that was still clear as day.
"You clean up nice," she heard David say behind her, and she turned briefly to meet him.
"Thanks," she smiled, turning back to the track. "I guess I was pretty dirty after coming off of the track."
"You looked like a living pile of mud," David said, and Cindy laughed.
"No kidding," he added, and she nodded.
"I'm still shocked we won," she said. "I could hardly see half the time. What you saw was all Sunday making it up as he went."
"It takes an excellent jockey to give all the credit to the horse," David kidded and Cindy smiled.
"Not really," she said. "I'm not that excellent, and we were partially lucky. Only Man didn't fire, and High Fever Blues didn't like the mud."
"Don't qualify it like that," David said. "You two won fairly, mud or not. Now get back into the restaurant. It's dessert time."
"But I don't eat dessert," Cindy pointed out.
"Then sit and watch us eat," David said. "I'm looking forward to it."
Cindy laughed and followed him back into the main hall, where the celebration was still pushing on. The little get together of owners had turned into a massive party, and the hotel ballroom had been rented out to accommodate the number of people. Owners, trainers, jockeys, exercise riders, grooms, and all numbers of other people were mixing in the room. It was one of the few parties Cindy had seen where everyone had been invited.
She followed David back to their table, sliding into her seat between Lucas and Laura, who was busy talking with Ryan. Lucas gave her a smile and then continued to talk with Sunday's owner, a young cooperate man from Wall Street. Cindy had just recently met him and had been impressed.
Cindy leaned forward in her chair and sat her elbows on the table, resting her chin against her hands as she looked over the table. Everyone was in conversation, including Jack, who was talking to one of the other women jockeys. Cindy recognized her as Sarah McCormick, one of Saratoga's most successful woman jockeys. She had had a mount in the Jim Dandy and came in third.
"Hey, Cin?"
That's when she realized that she had spaced out and was staring. Jack and Sarah were both looking at her as though she had two heads, and automatically she felt herself flush in embarrassment.
"Are you okay?" Jack asked her, and she nodded quickly.
"Yeah," she cleared her throat. "I was just looking at the dance floor."
Sarah cocked a head at her and laughed. "You look tired, Cin. Maybe you should get some rest."
"Maybe," Cindy muttered, looking down at her empty place setting.
She heard Jack say something quietly and looked up to see his empty chair, then she jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Come on, Cin," he said, nudging her out of her chair.
"What are you doing?" she asked him, rising without much protest.
He took her hand without an answer and led her to the dance floor, turning her around in front of him and moving to the slow music. Cindy smiled a little against his shoulder and suddenly wished that she had worn a dress instead.
"You know what?" He asked, his voice close to her ear.
"What?" Cindy asked, pulling her head back from his shoulder to look up at him.
"I'm sorry I wasn't around much today," he apologized. "I know it's a little pointless to come up here to see you and then spend most of the time not seeing you."
Cindy stared at him, trying to grasp his words and mortified to find herself flushing again. She had not anticipated either of them admitting that he would come up to Saratoga for anything more than the races.
"Where were you anyway?" she managed to ask, sticking with neutral questions.
"Around," he said, and she rolled her eyes.
"Oh, yeah, that explains a lot," she said sarcastically, letting out a surprised noise when he dipped her and brought her back up to him.
"Notify me first the next time you plan to do that," she said, laughing and clinging to his hand and shoulder.
"Okay, Cin," he nodded, lowering enough to touch foreheads. They had nearly stopped dancing, and Cindy couldn't stop staring at his eyes.
She paused for a second, her mouth opening but finding no words. "Promise?" she finally asked.
"I promise," he answered easily.
Then they started to dance again and Cindy looked over his shoulder as they rotated, her eyes drifting over the tables. She could see Lucas talking, the other dancers, Laura smiling at her, David kicked back in his chair, and Sarah sitting with her head resting on her hand, watching them as they shifted and rotated away.