14.
The big gray horse galloped out of the fog, his dark and silver legs leaping before him as the mist parted and swept around him. His rider moved on his back easily, her body crouched slightly over his curved neck, hands deep in the colt's pale mane. The woman's black and white windbreaker rustled in the wind, a black star sitting in the center of a field of white. The colt was decked with black bandages, and a white saddle cloth, a small black star sitting in the lower back corner next to his name: "Joshua."
She watched them as though she were taking notes. The red haired woman and the big gray colt galloped out of the fog and back in, leaving only the soft thundering of hooves against dirt. Cindy frowned and looked down, digging the tip of her boot against the gravel by the track.
Behind her, a large van was parked outside of Lucas' barns and she didn't want to look back to it. The grandstand at Saratoga was empty save the small groups of trainers watching their charges. It would remain empty until the next summer meet. The summer, as far as Cindy was concerned, was over. New York was looming in the south.
"Cindy!" she heard Josie call behind her, and she turned around slightly to watch her cousin approach. "Guess what?"
"What?" Cindy asked, a little less enthused than she had intended.
"Don't be curious or anything," Josie kidded, stopping next to Cindy with a smile.
"Okay," Cindy said, plastering a fake smile to her face. "This better?"
"No," Josie shrugged. "But it will do. Your dad and I are going down to Belmont for their meet before the Breeders' Cup."
"Great," Cindy said without much interest.
"Oh, come on!" Josie asked, halfway kidding. "You don't want us around anymore?"
"I'm tired, Jo," Cindy sighed. "I just can't…"
Josie frowned, jerking her head back a little in response. "Okay, what are you tired about?"
"I'm sorry," Cindy said quickly, shaking her head. "It's nothing about you and dad. I just stayed up all night last night, and I'm kind of at the end of my rope here."
"What happened?" Josie asked immediately, and Cindy shook her head.
"Nothing," she said simply. "Absolutely nothing."
"Cin," Josie sighed quietly, throwing an arm around her cousin's shoulders and squeezing hard.
"I've got to help load up the horses," Cindy said, taking a shaky breath. "I'll see you back at the house. I still have to pack."
"Okay," Josie said, letting go as Cindy pulled away and walked slowly up to the barn, leaving Josie to stare after her.
She had not slept over the night, although she was still wide awake. Most of her night she had laid awake on the sofa, staring at late night television and wishing she could stop thinking long enough to sleep. However, as much as she hadn't wanted to, all she could think about was the mistakes she had made and how on earth she was going to fix them. Then, as if denying herself to feel badly, she explored the other side of her problems, justifying everything by blaming Jack's mistakes, not hers. Now, just as dawn slid over the New York horizon at Saratoga, Cindy was a complete mess.
She saw David talking distractedly into his cell phone as she stood in the doorway, watching grooms prepare the horses that were to be shipped to Belmont. The assistant trainer stood in the middle of the aisle, Sunday Punch standing next to him, being prepared by one of the grooms. David was engrossed in conversation, and he did not acknowledge her before turning and walking down to his office, leaving her alone in the aisle with the horses and the grooms.
Cindy watched him go, trying to keep herself from caring and trying to keep herself from screaming at him. Instead she turned around and pressed her face against Sunday's neck. The gray colt snorted and shifted his weight as Cindy ran her fingers into his mane, clutching at him. As the groom looked up at her curiously from securing the colt's shipping boots, Cindy refused to cry. Instead, she sucked in a breath of air, patted the colt's shoulder, and pushed away, walking up the aisle.
The rig outside was waiting, and the first string of horses was being prepared. The stable row was insane, with grooms walking in and out of the tack room, horses walking up and down the aisle, and others being held and prepared to move. Cindy walked up the row, weaving around horses and slipping past grooms. David had closed the door to his office, and she paused in the aisle, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do. He had been an asshole to her from he moment the morning started. She didn't care about him enough to be mad, but she didn't like knowing she had been used. So far, as she turned away from the door, she didn't want to think about it.
When she realized she was milling undecided in the aisle, she found Wonderment's stall and slipped into it without looking, running her hand down the crest of the chestnut's neck.
"Hey," she heard a voice, and she jumped, looking around to find Jack crouched at the colt's feet, securing a shipping boot to Wonderment's right hind leg. She breathed in and suddenly wanted to crawl into his lap, but as soon as the need occurred to her she nixed it immediately and gave him a small smile.
"Hi," she said, leaning down to look under the colt's belly at Jack. He looked back up at her and didn't smile. Instead, he secured the boot and stood up, resting an arm over the colt's back. Cindy pushed her hair behind her ears and stood awkwardly in front of him. He watched her as though he expected her to say something first, but when she couldn't make her mouth open out of fear that she would sputter some useless comment, he settled for silence.
Wonderment shifted between them casually, flicking an ear back in mild interest to the staring contest occurring over his back. Cindy frowned, uncomfortable under his eyes. She felt all at once that he knew, although she also understood that him knowing was impossible. She ran a hand over Wonderment's smooth chestnut side and looked up at him, taking in the tiny details she wished she couldn't notice.
His t-shirt was already stained in the course of preparing the horses, but that was hardly a blemish on Jack. As she wandered over his tanned arms and up to his neck, she could see his muscles clenching as he watched her eyes run up to his face. She tried to ignore the fact that he was surveying her also, and she tried to keep herself from blushing, keeping her eyes trained on his face. He wasn't shaving, and already a beard was forming over his jaw. She let her eyes rest on that, remembering.
"What the hell is going on?"
Cindy jumped and looked back over at the door. Wonderment jerked his head up and snorted at David, who was leaning against the colt's stall door, giving them an impatient look.
"Fuck off," Jack ground out irritably, before ducking under Wonderment's neck and opening the stall door, shoving David out of the way as he went. Cindy leaned against the wall of the stall, shutting her eyes quickly, and muttered a soft curse.
"What the hell is his problem?" David asked her, taking Wonderment's halter. Cindy opened her eyes and glared at him.
"What do you freaking care?" she spat at him, and he smiled a little at her, making her furious at the snide implications he was making. She stood a little straighter as he stood with Wonderment, the chestnut colt beginning to snort and sidle his hindquarters.
"You know, Cin," he said, laughing. "I suppose I don't really give a damn. What the hell are you besides a…"
Before he could say the rest she had stepped forward and slapped him hard enough to frighten Wonderment, who jerked hard in the stall and broke away from David.
"Don't speak to me," she told him acidly, turning around and grabbing Wonderment's halter, putting a hand on the colt's nose.
"You know, Cin, yesterday was a good time, but," David said with a short laugh, putting a hand to where she had hit him. "Not fucking worth it."
She turned to glare at him over her shoulder, but he was gone. Wonderment pricked his ears at Cindy, and she sighed, not knowing what to do.
The sun was setting at Belmont Park when they were done with the last load, the horses settled in their stalls in New York. Cindy drove back to her apartment in the middle of Brooklyn, parked in the garage and rode up the elevator to the large studio apartment she shared with Laura. When she stepped off the elevator and opened the door to her home, she remembered so far back when she had first laid eyes on it. She remembered back to when she first met Jack, and, as she closed the door behind her and threw the dead bolts into place, she took a shaking breath.
"Hey, Cin," Laura said, wandering out of her room in pajamas, a glass of water in her hand. Cindy nodded to her roommate and walked into the apartment, dumping her things by the sofa before collapsing on it.
"Tired?" Laura asked, walking up to the armchair and sitting down, folding her legs under her. Cindy only nodded silently, hoping she wouldn't start crying out of the mixture of fatigue and sheer depression.
"That's just the very tip of the iceberg," Cindy assured Laura, lying down on the sofa.
"I'm not sure I want to know," Laura said, taking a drink of water.
"I'm not sure I want to get into it," Cindy shook her head.
They sat there for a little while before Laura threw out a random guess. "Was working with Jack that uncomfortable?"
"Pretty much," Cindy nodded, recalling how he hadn't spoken a word to her after that moment in Wonderment's stall. "I'm just glad David didn't decide to help."
"Oh, Cindy," Laura said slowly, looking up at her with astonishment written all over her face.
"Yeah," Cindy nodded. "Yeah."
"I'm speechless," Laura said. Then a few seconds later, she asked: "Are we talking about what I think we're talking about?"
"I slept with David?" Cindy asked, now completely embarrassed.
"Okay, we are," Laura said, sighing as Cindy frowned and rubbed her forehead to rid herself of the forming headache that was beginning to throb.
"I don't even know where to begin," she said.
"I don't think you need to say anything," Laura said. "Does Jack know."
"Not yet," Cindy groaned.
"Yeah, he'll know within the week at the rate track gossip spreads," Laura said realistically.
"But what the hell does he care?" Cindy asked. "He and Sarah are, well, I don't know what they are. But I'm sure they aren't friends."
"Yeah, they aren't friends," Laura nodded. "Ryan told me all there is to know."
"Great," Cindy laughed bitterly. "Don't even start to tell me."
"Okay," Laura nodded. "I wouldn't want to know either."
They were silent for a minute before Laura asked a question.
"Cindy," she said softly. "I'm a little confused. Why David Hernon?"
Cindy frowned at the ceiling, feeling disgusted by her own memories and another swell of anger that justified all her actions. "Because Jack hates him, I guess," she said simply.
"That's it?" Laura asked.
"Well," Cindy shrugged. "I don't like David. And at the time I was pissed off, and David was there…"
"I don't need to know any more," Laura held up a hand. "Don't paint a picture for me."
"Okay," Cindy said, shaking her head as she remembered. "He's such an asshole," she muttered, feeling a few tears creep down her face as she tried to forget.
"Cindy," Laura said, getting up and going over to the sofa, giving her a hug. "Cin, it's going to be okay."
"He's an asshole," Cindy muttered into Laura's shoulder, crying.
"Who is?"
Cindy sighed, frustrated. "Both of them."
"Okay," Laura said, hugging her. "Okay."
In the morning, in the first week of September, the heat broke. At 4:30, Cindy sat up in bed and shivered, looking out at the dark city and the starless sky. At 5:00 she stood at the track, watching as the horses set foot on the track through the haze of darkness and mist. She could barely see Sunday being brought down to her, and when she launched into his saddle, she could barely see where she was going.
In the morning fog, Cindy sat hunched in the saddle, breathing softly in the cool morning air. Sunday hit the ground sharply with his hoof and snorted, a plume of moisture shooting out into the air around him and hanging there, suspended for a few brief seconds before it began to dissipate.
"Warm him up," she heard Lucas tell her. "Nothing more than a jog today. Gallop him a mile when you think he's ready."
With that he slapped the colt's hindquarters and Sunday jigged onto the track, snorting and dancing his way over the tilled dirt. Cindy rose in the saddle automatically, letting the colt extend into a canter up the backstretch.
As they rocked down the track, cutting through the mist and the darkness, she could see other horses hanging in the fog with her, shifting through it and disappearing. Cindy kept on course with Sunday, tugging him down to the middle of the track and letting him go. The colt extended again with an excited breath, leaping into a gallop while Cindy stood in the saddle, hardly feeling the colt's legs hit the ground. She pressed her fists into the colt's mane, looking out on the track before her, and felt wonderful for a moment when the fog cleared and Sunday burst around the turn for home.
Cindy didn't urge him, but let him go his way, feeling the muscles working and moving under her. On the outside, she could see the rail and the people milling by it, watching her fly by. There were other horses and other riders, breezing, walking, cooling out, working, and jogging. She could see Josie in her blue and white windbreaker, Angelica straining at the reins underneath her. Laura she passed by with a nod, watching her roommate struggle with an unknown two-year-old in training. In front of her, she saw Sarah McCormick riding a Pletcher filly, a gorgeous little dark bay. Sunday flew by them all without a glance.
The day went quickly, and Cindy felt better about herself by the end of works. Cindy followed Hansea up to the barns after her last work with a smile on her face. The dark bay filly had been a dream, and when that happened Cindy liked to treasure the moment.
Races had not begun at Belmont quite yet, so Cindy moved on to her car and popped the trunk, putting her equipment inside. When she looked up, she caught sight of something she didn't think she'd see yet, and all of a sudden she could feel the slow creeping feeling slide down her spine. She didn't like the feeling.
Further down the backside, a few stables over, Sarah McCormick was getting into a car. Cindy stood still next to her open trunk, watching with a rising feeling of dread. It was a black Jaguar.
In New York that day, a starless night had turned into an overcast day, and later in the afternoon rain started to pour onto the city in sheets. Cindy drove silently through the grid system of streets in Brooklyn, the windshield wipers on the Audi going full speed as she stopped at a traffic light and stared straight ahead.
Cindy tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, trying to think of something else. She had stayed late at the track, even though she didn't have to. She stayed with Josie and her father, helped them with grocery shopping for their rented palace of a room in the Hyatt, and sat around with them, watching the rainfall. Now she drove slowly down the streets, pulling into her parking garage and turning off her car.
She didn't have time to open the car door before her cell phone rang. She picked it up hastily and asked the universal question: "Hello?"
"Cin, this is Josie."
"Hey," Cindy said. "What's up? Did I forget something at the hotel? I can just run by later…"
"No, no," Josie cut her off. "I just wanted to tell you some news."
"Oh," Cindy said. "Okay. Shoot."
"Ashleigh's coming up to Belmont with Adriatic and Roma," Josie said quickly. "I thought you'd like to know."
Cindy frowned silently, sighing into the phone.
"Cindy?" Josie asked.
"Yeah," Cindy replied. "Thanks for telling me."
"I feel bad now, Cindy," Josie said. "I thought that…"
"No, thanks," Cindy repeated, shaking her head a little. "Thanks."
"Okay," Josie said.
"When is she going to be up here?" Cindy asked.
"Plans aren't concrete yet. Your dad and she are on the phone looking at flight plans."
"Great," Cindy nodded, running a hand through her hair with a sigh. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Jo."
She said her goodbye and hung up, turning off her phone. For a moment, she stared out her windshield, trying not to think about it. Then she made a decision. She turned on her car and backed up, then rolled forward into the rain.
She drove for nearly an hour through the rain, finally finding the nerve to cross the bridge into Manhattan. Her head was a muddled mess, and she didn't really know why she was doing this when she drove off the bridge and into Manhattan.
The skies opened up when she hit his street, and when she parked her car in front of the beautiful old apartment building she had no clue how she was going to do this. She had no plan of attack. As she sat in her car and watched the rain pour down, she couldn't formulate a plan. She only wanted to talk to Jack, and forget everything else. However, that seemed like it was too easy. Months before, when they were still best friends, she could have walked into his apartment at any time and talked to him about anything. Now she was left with a sickening feeling of desperation, and knowing that she had been the one to let it get to this point only drove her to make sure she could mend it.
Turning off the engine, Cindy jumped out of the car and made a run for it, sprinting across the street, kicking up water as she ran. When she made it into his apartment building, she was soaked and shivering. Her jeans were heavy and wet, and her shoes were squeaking as she walked over to the elevators. She was sure one of the tenants frowned at her as she dripped water across the carpeting. Cindy brushed it off easily, her mind on more important things.
There was one thing she wanted to tell Jack, and she mulled over it in the elevator as it rose the short distance to his floor. She wanted to tell him so much, and she knew what she wanted to say would be surrounded by her nervous babble, but she wouldn't bear standing by and keeping silent. She had so much to apologize for.
When the elevator opened, Cindy strode down the hallway and stopped in front of his door, feeling her heart beating loudly. When she felt that she had conquered her heart, she lifted her hand hesitantly and knocked, then waited for the door to open as she shivered in the cool air.
He opened the door and looked surprised that she was standing there, soaked to the bone with her arms wrapped around herself to stay a little less cold. She was surprised that he seemingly hadn't bothered to see who it was.
"Jack," she smiled a little as she said the name, trying to appear like her old self to him. He recovered quickly and leaned a hand against the doorjamb, looking at her questioningly.
"Cin? You're soaked. What's wrong?"
"I just," she started, stopping herself before she could launch into a lengthy tangent. Before she could edit her opening statement and plunge forward again, she heard the rattling of pots over a stovetop and she ground to a halt.
"Jack?" Sarah's voice called from the kitchen. "How long are we letting this simmer? I think it's had enough."
Cindy stood in the hallway, and she looked down at her soaked shoes.
"I…" she started, stopping herself to force a brilliant smile on her face. "It's not important."
"Cindy," he said, looking like he completely didn't believe her. "That's not true. What's up?"
"You're busy," Cindy said, taking a step back as she watched him shift in the doorway, a flicker of something crossing over his face that made her glance away. "And, you know, it's just not important. I can talk to you about it later, in fact. So," she paused, letting out the breath she was holding. "Have a great night."
She turned and walked down the hallway, trying not to go too fast or too slow. She walked the way a normal person would, like she did every day, as though she didn't feel like she had to throw up. The elevator was sitting there, and it opened immediately when she punched the down button. When she walked into it, she heard his door shut, and she closed her eyes.