15.
The infield was filled with low-lying fog, covering up the trees and the ponds. Cindy galloped by on Sunday Punch, the dappled gray colt snorting as the sun turned the white mist a brilliant gold. Truthfully, Cindy didn't notice much of the beauty of the track. The glittering fog in the infield shifted and began to dissipate steadily. Sunday galloped up the track, warming up for his breeze. Cindy only felt the beats of the colt's hooves against the dirt and nothing else. Over the past two weeks all she could think about was business.
Sunday slowed when she asked, approaching the training gate for their four furlong breeze. Cindy pulled down her goggles and allowed the assistant gate starter to load the colt. They joined the two other colts already there, and before Cindy could even recall which horses were which the gates slammed open.
The gray colt broke sharply and darted to the front, powering up the middle of the track. Cindy tightened the inside rein and sent him careening to the rail, his dark gray body plowing past the other two horses. She smiled slightly, knowing she had accomplished the first thing Lucas had asked of her. In preparing for the Vosburgh Stakes, Sunday was to break sharp and head to the front. Now all she had to do was sustain speed to the end.
The gray colt sped down the track, his legs hitting the ground hard and kicking dirt up on the horses behind him. Cindy urged him, pumping her hands into the colt's mane when he hesitated halfway around the turn. At Cindy's encouragement, Sunday's ears flew back and he surged, racing out to the finish.
As they blew by the last marker, Cindy stood in the stirrups and let him slow down on his own, pulling him up steadily until they hit the gap. There, she jumped off of his back and handed him over to his groom immediately, pausing just long enough to hear the time from Lucas and a short comment of praise.
Then she was off again on another horse, and another, and another until her day was through with Wonderment, the big chestnut colt coming back from his jog with an air of confidence. The chestnut was gaining strength and reputation since he had come to Belmont. After leaving Saratoga he had put in two beautiful works, turning heads and making a name for himself as a contender for the Futurity.
"He looks good," Lucas said as Cindy jumped off of the colt by the side of the gap, holding him near the rail for Lucas to check his legs, running his hands up and down the colt's slender forelegs.
"Felt fine," Cindy commented sharply, letting the groom take the colt back up to the barn. She stood for a moment, staring out at the track without really looking at it. The mist was gone, and the sun was up, although it wasn't warm. The mornings were cool now, and she was wearing a lined windbreaker over a long sleeved shirt and flak jacket. It was just cool enough to shiver when she breezed the horses.
"Are you alright, Cin?" Lucas asked her, watching her with some concern.
She broke out of her trance and nodded curtly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Who's next?"
"You're done for the day," he told her, and she shrugged.
"Great. I'll pack up my stuff and see you tomorrow."
"Cin," he said, chuckling softly and walking up to her before she could hike back to the barns.
"What?" she asked. "The horses are fine, right?"
"Sure, the horses were great. You did a fantastic job today."
"Okay," Cindy said. "Then I'm out of here. No races today, so I've got errands to get done."
"Wait," Lucas said, getting her attention now. "Cindy, is everything alright with you? You've been so focused lately on getting out here and working. I appreciate the effort, and it's not like you weren't a phenomenal rider to have on staff before, but this is a little strange."
"Are you saying I'm too focused?" Cindy laughed, raising an eyebrow.
"And a little too curt and detached," Lucas said. "For the past two weeks now you've been pretty eager to get out there, get it done, and go."
"Well, I've got a lot to get done," Cindy defended herself. "Besides, I thought you'd like someone a little more professional with the horses and less…"
"Cindy," he cut her off. "You were perfectly fine before."
"I think I'm missing something," Cindy said, frowning.
"Well," Lucas said, starting up to the barns. Cindy followed him, listening. "I think I'll like your riding more when you find what you're missing."
At that, Cindy stopped walking and watched Lucas go back up to the barns. She sighed, and shook her head, walking after him. When she walked into the dim light of the closed in stable, she didn't follow Lucas into his office to ask him what the hell he meant by that. She didn't have to understand it, and Lucas wasn't going to clarify himself. She already knew what she was missing.
Cindy stopped outside of Silvan's stall, looking in on the nearly white colt. Silvan was busy ripping at his hay net, munching with satisfaction. Every once and a while he would bump a hoof against his stall door, and as Cindy watched him she felt a little less thrown. Even though the big colt didn't look anything like Joy, she could tell that they had been raised by the same dam. They shared little idiosyncrasies that Cindy could still sense years after Joy. Now, as she watched Silvan closer than she had before, she could see a lot of Joy in his dark brown eyes as they watched her easily, as if he knew everything about her past and could look into her future. They were unwavering and solid, and Cindy found herself feeling better just looking at him.
That vanished when she saw Jack walk into the stable. One look from him and she wished she had been smart and left the track right after she had jumped off of Wonderment. She had managed to avoid speaking to him for days on end, not picking up the phone when he called and taking care to be far from him at the track. She couldn't really pinpoint why she was acting this way, but she was sure most of it was because she didn't know what to say to him anymore. Now, as she found herself caught up in his eyes that seemed darker in the dim light, her heart had dropped to her stomach. She wasn't ready to talk. She didn't know what to say.
As it turned out, Jack seemed to have plenty to say to make up for it.
"We have to talk," he said, his voice hushed and low as he walked up to her. Cindy found herself gripping onto Silvan's stall, and shook her head.
"I don't have anything to say," she said, trying not to sound dismissive.
He laughed harshly at that, and shook his head. "Oh, no. You've got something to say."
Before she could react, three exercise riders walked into the stable and paused when they saw Cindy and Jack. Cindy bristled as she felt the intensity rolling off Jack in waves, and she turned her head away, looking in Silvan's stall like they were discussing the horse.
"Look at me, Cin," he said, putting his hand on Silvan's stall. Cindy looked at the veins running up the back of his hand before she slowly met his gaze, feeling small and powerless.
When she lifted her eyes up to his, she was surprised when he hesitated. In that small moment, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and stepped closer to him. She could nearly feel his pulse pounding under her fingertips, and realized then how angry he was.
"Jack, let's talk somewhere else," she pleaded with him, looking up at him. "I want to talk, but it can't be here. Okay?"
He considered her for a moment, with her hand still holding onto his wrist before he let go of the stall. Her hand slipped off of him as he turned around and simply walked away. Cindy sighed and followed him, walking out into the late morning light.
"Jack," she tried, getting frustrated that he wasn't talking.
"Just get in the car, Cin," he told her, opening up the door to the Jaguar. She hung back for a second, frowning at his tone and wishing she had some other choice. He looked at her impatiently from the driver's side of the Jaguar. "Cin?"
"Fine," she said throwing her arms up, walking across the gravel and past him, pulling open the passenger's door and falling into the seat. She slammed the door, and watched him climb inside next to her. She glanced at him and sat quietly, milling in the sound of the roaring engine.
They didn't say a word as they crossed through Brooklyn. Cindy stared out the window, listening to her heart pound in her chest. When they entered Manhattan, Cindy stared up at the huge buildings of the Wall Street District, watching them slip by the window as they passed.
When Jack parked at his apartment, Cindy slowly took off her seat belt and swallowed. She tried to look up at him, and when she finally managed to force his name out of her lips, he seemed to jump and grip the handle of the driver's side door. Opening the door, Jack climbed out as if he hadn't heard her. Cindy sighed and pushed her door open, jumping out of the car.
"Jack!" she called, listening to her voice echo through the small parking garage. He just shook his head and kept walking, so Cindy followed him, scowling. She had had just about enough of his silence, and as she followed him into the lobby of the apartment building and into the opening elevator, she turned to him for an explanation.
"You feel like talking?" Cindy asked, crossing her arms unconsciously.
"No," Jack said in a low voice she barely recognized. She felt her scowl deepen and she sighed, reaching back and pulling her messy hair out of its ponytail. When she ripped the hair tie out, she smiled harshly. She quickly redid the ponytail as the elevator slowed and stopped. If she was going to prepare for a fight, she might as well get into battle stance.
The doors opened and Jack practically stalked out into the hallway. Cindy followed along, mildly wondering how much he paid for such a place. It blew what she had out of the water, but then again she almost expected him to live just off Central Park with the sort of money his parents had. When he opened the door, Cindy didn't waste time and shoved into the apartment before he could. She heard him give a short laugh, but she didn't care as she stopped in the middle of the living room and turned to look at him expectantly.
He closed the door and tossed his keys on the coffee table, walking by her.
"Jack, what the hell is your problem?" Cindy asked him as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Jack?"
"Well, Cindy," he said, his voice muffled through the wall as she rolled her eyes. "I figure you already know my problem."
"Humor me," she stated as he reappeared with a beer bottle in his hand. The look on his face made her feel frigid.
"Cin," he said slowly, and she watched him like a deer caught in headlights while he walked up to her. "This might just possibly have something to do with you fucking Hernon, but then again that could be a lie also."
"Jack," Cindy whispered, wincing as she took a step back.
"So," he said, putting the bottle down on the table and looking at her with such intensity she couldn't stand to meet his eyes. "It's true, then?"
Cindy took a big breath and forced herself to look up at Jack. Once she was looking into his dark blue eyes she found she herself hesitating. She wanted to lie to him, and she wanted him to pull her up to him and forget about everything. Although she knew she had no options. Cindy took in a shaking breath and nodded her head almost imperceptibly.
"Jesus Christ," Jack laughed, turning around and ripping his hands through his hair. Cindy watched him walk over to a chair and fall into it, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling.
"I," Cindy started, finding herself standing in the middle of his living room and feeling like a vulnerable target.
"Good," he said, laughing bitterly. "Are you going to explain this? Because I just can't wait."
Cindy frowned at him and shook her head. "No, I'm not going to explain this to you."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because you have no right, Jack," she told him. "I shouldn't have to explain anything to you."
"I have no right?" Jack asked, getting up all of a sudden and striding up to her, making Cindy take a few steps back in surprise when he stopped right in front of her and grabbed her wrist, stopping her motion backward. "How is it that I have no right? One night we're making out on the couch and the next day you're fucking David Hernon, so please tell me when my rights flew out the window."
"Could you stop saying that?" Cindy asked softly.
"What?" Jack asked. "Fucking David Hernon?"
Cindy winced and looked away, Jack lifted his hand and turned her face back to look at him.
"Look at me, Cin," he said. "Not the wall."
"God, Jack," Cindy shook him off, pushing past him and turning around to look at him when she had put enough space between them to feel comfortable again. "What do you think? That I fell head over heels in love with David between the time I was with you and the next morning? I'm sorry that I left that hotel room. I regret it more than anything, okay? I don't know what I was even thinking when I left that night. I was just afraid that you…"
"What?" he asked, breaking in. "That I wouldn't want you in the morning?"
Cindy looked at him sharply, forcing herself to stay still when he walked back up to her.
"So, what?" he asked her, closing in. "You got scared and went running to the closest warm body?"
"Screw you," Cindy growled. "You were quite content to leave it all behind, if I remember correctly. Sarah McCormick? I'm not the only one who went running, Jack."
"Leave her out of this," he told her.
"Why?" Cindy asked. "What do you think made me go to David? You and Sarah blindsiding me or because I happened to really want David? What do you think, Jack?"
"You're a bitch," he told her, straight to her face.
"You're a fucking bastard," Cindy fired back.
"Fucking hell, Cindy," he said, unconscious to both their raised voices. "I would call you a whore if I didn't fucking know you well enough."
"Thanks, Jack," Cindy smiled at him sweetly, her voice dripping sarcasm. "Would you also like to know that it was the best sex I ever had?"
"Would you shut the fuck up?" Jack told her, pinning her down with dark blue eyes that seemed suddenly brighter. Cindy only leveled her eyes up at him and closed the gap between them, putting her hands on his chest and grabbing the material of his shirt. She was tired of yelling about something she couldn't take back.
"Jack, I do not have words for how I feel about you," she said in a rushed, soft voice that seemed strained to her ears. "I do not have words, and I wanted to tell you that a long time ago but I was scared. I was so fucking scared. So I'm sorry that I didn't handle this perfectly, and I'm sorry that I drove you away, and I'm sorry about David. I can't say it enough, because if you don't know that I wanted you to be the one that night then I shouldn't be here."
He stared at her quietly, not saying anything as she let the material of his shirt slip through her fingers. She took a step back, surrounded by the overwhelming silence that had crashed down in the room. When he still said nothing she nodded slightly and turned to find her things. She picked up her purse off the coffee table and swung it over her shoulder, not daring to meet Jack's eyes.
"I'll just find a cab," she told him as she started toward the door. She never made it there. As she stepped around him, she suddenly felt a hard pull on her wrist. He jerked her back to him, her purse falling off her shoulder and landing on the floor. Cindy made a soft, surprised sound as he hauled her back to him, tucking her close with an arm that wrapped around her back. He let go of her wrist, pushing his free hand into her hair, loosening the ponytail and making long strands of blond hair fall across her face. Cindy pressed her forehead into his chest and hugged him back, glad that the worst had been dealt with.
"I love you," he said into her hair, and already Cindy could feel tears slipping down her cheeks.
"I love you, too," she said, sniffling and holding on to him fiercely, as though she had nothing else to grasp.
"And we can't do this anymore," he told her. She sighed, trying not to cry more and finding it hard to hold the sobs back.
"Why not?" Cindy asked, snaking her arms up around his neck and lifting her head, her tear stained brown eyes soaked and bloodshot.
He looked at her and gave her a smile that broke her. She found herself truly crying as he pressed her harder to him. Trying to stall the sobbing, Cindy held her breath and pushed just far enough to reach up and kiss him lightly on the mouth. She wasn't going to allow him to tell her that he couldn't be with her. He was with her, for Christ's sake. He always would be, as far as she was concerned.
For a moment she was thrilled that he responded, kissing her back, his mouth sliding over hers. But the spike of determination dimmed when she realized the kiss felt more like a goodbye. She pulled away softly, looking up at him and putting a hand to her mouth.
"Come here, Cin," he said, suddenly turning and walking down the hallway, bringing her with him. She followed him blindly, even closing her eyes as he led her by the hand. He steered her down the hallway and she opened her eyes as he led her into his room, sitting her on the bed.
Cindy sank onto it, automatically curling up on the dark comforter. The bed shifted when he crawled up behind her, settling and arm over her waist and tugging her until she rolled over to face him. She looked at him with bleary eyes, hardly questioning what was going on.
"Cindy," he said. "You're not a pretty crier."
"Shut up," Cindy muttered halfheartedly, reaching out to push him in the chest. How strange it seemed that they could keep up the old game when it had seemingly come crashing down not moments before.
"Are we alright?" Cindy asked tentatively after a steady silence, looking at Jack waveringly.
"You want the truth?" he returned, and she simply nodded.
"We're not going to be the same," he said, and when she looked down he quickly tipped her chin back up, making her look at him. "No, Cin. Eye contact is good. Get that through your head."
"What's going to happen then?" Cindy asked him. "Because I can't continue like this."
"You're still my best friend, Cin," he said. "Nothing is different there."
"But it is different," she shook her head. "Everything is different. We jumped over the line," she said, illustrating for him with creative hand gestures. "And we can't keep doing that."
"Jumping over a line?" he asked, stilling her right index finger from jumping over the outstretched left and pressing them to the bed.
"Yeah," Cindy said, pulling her hands out from under his, uncomfortable at his touch. "The line."
"Well, from here on out let's imagine the line as a big, concrete wall," he said with a smile.
"With steel reinforcements?" Cindy asked, and he nodded.
"Can't have a concrete wall without them, Cin," he informed her.
"I don't think that will work," she said, remembering with a rush their night in Saratoga.
"You want me to place an armed guard there or something?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"Jack," she said. "Let's be serious for a second."
"Sure," he said, his smile disappearing slowly.
"I slept with David," she said, and at the mention of the name, he sighed and rolled over on his back. "And you're not over that, and I'm not over the fact that I did that to make you mad."
He looked up at her, and just the look on his face made her wish she could stop thinking about it.
"Well, you did succeed at pissing me off," he said. "I'm pissed."
"Still?" Cindy asked, hoping he had calmed down a little about it.
"Yeah, still," he told her. "I just don't understand it."
Cindy sighed and relented. "I overheard Sarah saying that you had asked her out," Cindy admitted. "It was right after my last race, and I was rushing so I could find you afterward. God, I wanted to talk about so much with you. But, I overheard her and it killed me, Jack. I just ran into David afterward and I was so mad and upset that…"
"Okay," he said, holding up his hands. "Enough. I don't want to know any thing else."
Cindy sighed. "Well, that's what happened."
"And I get all that," he said. "I really had no right to run either."
"So now you admit to running," Cindy rolled her eyes, sniffing at the remainder of tears.
"Not so much," he replied stubbornly.
"What about Sarah?" Cindy asked softly. "Where does she stand in all of this?"
He was quiet for a moment, and Cindy didn't have to hear him speak to know his answer.
"I," he started, not able to find words.
"It's okay," Cindy shook her head. "I had a feeling anyway."
He looked up at her, and pulled her closer to him so they were at eye level. "Cindy, we're two very stupid people."
"How about unlucky?" Cindy offered. "Complicated, confused, masochistic?"
"I'll stick with stupid," he said.
"Fine with me," Cindy shrugged, curling up with him as the fatigue of morning works and arguing hit her like a sledgehammer. She closed her eyes, having no wish to open them again. This was where she wanted to be, no matter if she belonged there or not. In the following silence, she dropped off into sleep and she did not dream.