17.
"Hey, good job," Cindy called to her cousin as Josie walked into the jockey's room, her blue and white silks splattered with mud. Josie shrugged, and wiped at the mud on her face with the back of her hand. She had just come back from riding Zero Hour to a third place finish in the Jerome, a Grade Two handicap. The colt had stumbled at the start, been shuffled back behind horses, boxed in on the rail, and gone six wide in the homestretch just to make up enough ground to finish a fading third.
"What I need right now is a shower," Josie announced, tugging her dark blond hair out of its braid and frowning at her dirty hands.
"Are you done for the day?" Sarah asked as she tugged at her white and red silks, the colors of Only Man's owners.
"Yes," Josie said. "But I'm going to try and get myself cleaned up in time to watch the Vosburgh from the stands."
"Better be quick," Cindy said, securing the rubber bands around her wrists and going back to her duffel bag to find her crop and goggles. "I'm about to get out of here and weigh in."
"Same here," Laura announced, kicking her bag under the bench and bending to fix something on her boot. Laura had been put up on Lewis' The Sacred, a reformed juvenile phenomenon who was supposed to make it to the Kentucky Derby before it became clear he couldn't go further than a mile. The Vosburgh, at seven furlongs, was becoming the colt's preferred distance.
"I'll hurry then," Josie nodded, already ripping off her silks and sprinting for the showers.
"You guys ready?" Sarah called from the door, which she had propped open just wide enough to see the rest of the male jockeys walking past, a few peeping inside the women's jockey room curiously. Sarah snaked a hand out and slapped one jock playfully on the arm, warning him.
"Nothing I ain't seen before," Cindy heard a distinctive Spanish accent, and she laughed.
"Yes, I'm ready," she nodded, following Sarah out the door with Laura.
By the time they made it into the paddock, Cindy frowned up at the brewing storm clouds. It wasn't raining so much as threatening. The rain had stopped mid-morning, leaving the track a sloppy mess. Efforts to dry it out had only ended with a moderately good racing surface, but that hardly bothered Cindy. Sunday Punch had put in effortless performances in the mud, so as she watched the colt walk calmly around the paddock with his groom she only smiled. Sunday Punch was going off at six to one, the third favorite, and if things turned out the way Cindy wanted them to the colt would make a nice payoff. She had already asked Sunday's owners to put in a bet for her, ten dollars to win, and she had a feeling that wasn't a losing ticket.
"Hey there, girl," she heard Lucas from the five stall and veered off to talk to him after waving goodbye to Laura and Sarah.
"Hi," Cindy smiled, slipping out of the way as Sunday was led into his stall, his damp body rock solid and quiet for Lucas to tack up.
"Are we all clear on the plan?" Lucas asked, spreading the colt's saddlecloth over his back before going for the pad and saddle. "He slowed considerably coming to the wire last time out."
"I got the plan," Cindy said, turning away to look down the crowded row of horses, grooms, trainers, owners, and any one else that seemed to believe they needed to be walking around in the stalls. Streamline's head could be seen poking out from the one stall, the gold and green blinkers on his head flashing in the dim light. When she saw David Hernon walking around the colt to check the equipment she immediately drew in a breath.
"What the hell is David doing?" she asked, swinging back around to look at Lucas.
"What?" Lucas asked, tightening the overgirth and giving Cindy a frown.
"David is saddling up Streamline," she said slowly.
"Did you not hear about that?" Lucas asked with some muted astonishment.
"No," Cindy said. "I haven't really been keeping up with David as of late."
"Well," Lucas said, patting Sunday on the flank and motioning for the groom to lead him out again. Sunday walked back out onto the paddock with several other horses in the race, letting the bettors get a good look at him with all his equipment on.
"Well what?" Cindy asked impatiently, watching Streamline walk past. The chestnut Townsend horse looked gorgeous in the glittering gold and green, but Cindy was more focused on the colt's new trainer.
"Townsend Jr. has been toying around with the idea of keeping a string of horses up in New York for a while now," Lucas said, watching Brad and Lavinia Townsend mingling in the paddock with the other owners. Cindy snorted a laugh as Lucas' name for Brad, wondering if calling the rich heir anything other than his name had become that universal.
"He's been calling New York trainers," Lucas shrugged. "I turned him down, Lewis turned him down, but Hernon didn't."
"Why Hernon of all people?" Cindy asked, knowing the answer to her own question after she said it. Hernon would appeal to Brad. The two had the same mind set.
"I guess the young Townsend met Hernon up at Saratoga this year," Lucas shrugged. "Hernon has wanted to find an owner for a while now, and picking up a huge string like the Townsend New York string would be a feather in his cap."
"How many horses are we talking about?" Cindy asked, frowning.
"Hell," Lucas frowned. "One of the main reasons I turned the man down was because of the size of his string. I don't have the room in any New York track, or any track, to handle the Townsends and the rest of my owners. If I took the Townsend string, I would only have time for the Townsend string. I don't want that sort of insecurity. Nor would I want my job in the hands of Townsend Jr."
Cindy snorted. Lucas depended on a variety of owners in his stable. If one pulled out, he could easily find another and keep rolling with the horses he had. Lucas certainly had enough horses and owners spread across the country. The sheer size of Townsend Acres would demand that Lucas almost become a private trainer, and Cindy knew Lucas would never do such a thing.
"So we're going to see a lot of David Hernon," Cindy assumed.
"Belmont, Aqueduct, and Saratoga," Lucas said, clapping a hand on her good shoulder and squeezing gently. "Don't let it bother you, Cin."
"I have no intention of letting it bother me," Cindy said decisively.
"Are we ready to get this show on the road, or what?" Jack asked as he walked into the stall, looking clean and gorgeous like he always did for races. Cindy's eyes caught on him briefly before she had to glance back out at the walkway. She could see that paddock judge fiddling with his clipboard and eyeing the horses, checking his watch once too often.
"The show has been on the road," Lucas returned. "Where have you been?"
"Checking out the scenery," Jack responded as Sunday Punch was led back into the stall. It was about that time, and when the jockeys were called to mount Cindy was already being tossed up onto Sunday's back.
Jack let go of Cindy's leg and took a step back, looking up at her as she settled and found the time to glance back. Sunday snorted and shifted underneath her, his muscles bunching nervously under the saddle.
"Good luck, Cin," he said, and she smiled at him. She had barely seen him all day, but she did not mind that. She could not mind that, and so far Cindy was determined to keep her newly developed attitude maintained perfectly. The smile slowly diminished on his face, his dark blue eyes stuck on her, and she turned away quickly as Sunday grunted impatiently. The line of horses was moving out, and Sunday's groom was walking forward to join them. Cindy glanced back as they walked away, catching again on Jack as he watched her disappear around the large, tangled trees in the paddock.
Cindy cursed as she turned back around, getting the groom's attention.
"Nothing," she shook her head quickly, sighing. Staying determined and maintained was going to be harder than she thought.
When the horses set foot on the track, it wasn't loud or overwhelming. It was another stakes day at Belmont Park, and the crowd of thirty thousand was packed along the rail but spaced out up into the grandstand. There were empty spaces and virtually no electric current like those Cindy had felt at huge, publicly known race days like the Derby and the Breeders' Cup. This day, highlighted by the Jerome and the Vosburgh, was ultimately forgettable to most. However, Cindy thought to herself, today would be important for the Breeders' Cup. The outcome of this race would hold sway on the next, no matter the crowd at the rail.
Cindy sat silently in the saddle, looking forward as the line of horses walked and pranced in front of the grandstand. Streamline was leading the way, all green, gold, and red. Behind him were the rest of the big New York sprinting names. High Fever Blues and Brokenhearted walked without noticing the people at the rail. Aviator, a big bay, crabwalked along in front of Cindy with his outrider, nipping viciously at the leather protecting the pony's neck. Sunday Punch trudged through the wet muck, his dark gray coat the most distinctive in the field. Cindy patted his neck and rose up in the stirrups as they rolled into a canter, warming up to the gate that was sitting in the backstretch. Only Man and The Sacred warmed up behind her, the line losing its formation to gallop slowly up the first turn.
When the horses approached the gate, Cindy slowed Sunday Punch and milled quietly as they waited for the first four to load. When it was their turn, Sunday stepped forward and slid into the metal chute, pricking his ears curiously at the long stretch of track before them.
Cindy didn't glance to her right as Only Man bumped in the gate next to them. She only pulled down her goggles and slipped her fingers through Sunday's multi toned mane. As soon as The Sacred entered his stall, the gates burst open and Cindy was on Sunday to move forward fast before the field could close in around them. The lithe gray dug in and sprinted to the lead, his head bobbing quickly with each stride that carried him to the front.
Angled in to the rail, Cindy didn't have time to celebrate her first victory. Already Only Man was pressuring her from the outside. She could feel the presence of Streamline behind her, both colts advancing to enter an early speed duel that was meant to exhaust Sunday, ultimately leaving him in the dust. Cindy eased off the colt, remembering that he had trained perfectly at Belmont. There was no need to push him yet.
Sunday Punch ran confidently on the lead, his ears pricked back as he listened to Cindy and the loud noises of the horses behind him. Cindy smiled softly, glad to feel the colt's sure stride underneath her. Sunday knew what he was doing. It was only a matter of time.
The field rolled into and out of the far turn, changes in the field occurring faster than Cindy had expected. Only Man and Streamline were not falling back. The three leaders were only going faster as The Sacred suddenly appeared in a fury of dark bay and white. His striking head entering Cindy's field of vision as she began to scrub on Sunday's neck, getting his attention.
The gray switched leads and plunged just ahead of the rest of the pack, keeping his neck in front of Only Man as they raced down the stretch. Cindy pulled out her crop and swung it back to slap the colt on the flank twice before swinging it in her hand again, flipping it by the colt's eye in encouragement. It took several more hits by the crop to convince Sunday that the race wasn't finished, but it was the pressure of the other horses that kept Sunday running and straining to stay in the lead.
When the wire slipped overhead Sunday Punch had been in front by a nose. The difference between The Sacred and Only Man must have been inches, since Cindy did not know who would place and show. She only rose in the saddle and slapped Sunday's neck happily, letting the colt roll down the slippery track before turning him back to the winner's circle.
Later that day Cindy stood inside the main training barn of Lucas' preferred training stable, Owl Hollow Farm, which was situated far outside the crush of the city and secluded in the low hills of rural New York. Cindy stood just inside the aisle, watching the rain pour down. It had started raining almost an hour after the Vosburgh, and after Cindy had volunteered to help settle Lucas' five new yearlings that were due to arrive any moment.
There were already several other yearlings Lucas had taken on from the Keeneland July sale, when most of the bluegrass Thoroughbreds were auctioned off to the highest bidder. The horses coming in this month were September sale graduates, meaning they were less mature and less expensive.
"Hey," she heard Jack's familiar voice and she turned to look at him, giving him a smile. He looked more in his element at the barn, standing before her in boots, jeans, black t-shirt, and coat to keep out the wet cold. His wild dark hair was in disarray and the coarse stubble on his jaw made it appear like he had never attempted to look professional only hours before. Just that simple thought made Cindy smile a little wider.
"Hi," she said, turning away and crossing her arms over her chest, huddling a little in her coat as the breeze picked up and sent a mist of rainwater into the barn. "Wonderful time to be doing this, isn't it?"
"Oh yeah," Jack nodded, watching the rain as the rig came into sight at the farm's gates. Cindy stared down at her boots, wondering how long it would take to smooth out the awkwardness. It was too easy to forget some things, and events were too recent to fade. As much as Cindy had accepted the outcome of all the summer changes, and as much as she wanted normalcy and friendship, just a look from Jack could send her reeling. In the paddock that afternoon he had looked at her like he wanted to haul her off the horse and press her up against a wall, and Cindy shivered at the thought.
She was determined and maintained, she repeated to herself. Determined and maintained.
The rig rumbled up to the barn, and the engine cut off with the lights. The rain continued to pour, splattering onto the hood of the large cab with clinks and clanks.
"Are we ready out here?" she heard Lucas walking down the aisle with a few grooms.
"The rig just got here," Jack said, shifting and watching the driver jump out of the cab, making a run for the barns.
"We've got a problem," the man called, stepping inside the barn.
"Problem?" Cindy asked, as though it were a foreign word.
"One of the horses," the man nodded his head back to the rig. "That Storm Cat colt is a man killer, I'm telling you. We'll have to take him down first."
Just then Cindy could hear a loud thunk of hooves against steel; the rig seemed to whine under the stress of the upset horse within it. She didn't react so much as glance back at Lucas, wondering what the trainer had willingly brought into his barn.
"Right," he said, nodding to the rig. "We'd better open her up and get him out then. Let's go."
Cindy hung back a little, watching the men approach the large van. She watched quietly as they opened the doors and lowered the ramp. She could hear a strangled scream inside and the scrape of hooves against the floor of the rig. Automatically she winced at the noise and she was glad that she didn't have to have a hand in the horse's training. The staff at Owl Hollow would break the colt to saddle and bridle before shipping him to Belmont in the spring.
Jack swung up into the rig with Lucas and an extra groom, disappearing inside the van only to reappear with a very angry yearling. Cindy watched the big dark bay strike at the ramp before he barreled down it, wheeling once he hit the gravel to rear and jump, putting up a grand fight for the people around him. The rain was coming down in sheets, drenching the colt and the men around it as they fought to gain control.
Cindy backpedaled quickly when Jack got the colt to head into the barn. The bay thundered by Cindy, swinging his hindquarters and throwing up his head to yank hard on the people holding him. Turning, Cindy followed the entourage and stopped as they ground to a trembling halt in the middle of the aisle. Jack and Lucas held fast to the colt as one of the grooms braved striping the yearling of his shipping equipment, tugging the wet blanket and shipping boots off before dodging clear of the colt's striking hooves.
They moved the horse into his newly made up stall and left quickly, pulling the stall closed. Once the colt stood in his stall without four humans attached to his head, the fight seemed to leave him immediately. He flicked his ears at his surroundings and heaved a sigh, making a move to inspect his empty feed bin.
"Storm Cat?" Cindy asked, believing it. Some Storm Cats tended to easily inherit the upbeat sire's attitude, and as young horses many were difficult to control. This one didn't seem any different, especially when faced with a challenge.
"Actually," Jack started, shrugging.
"It gets better," Lucas said, chuckling as he ran his hands through his wet, mousy brown hair.
"His dam is Savage Girl," Jack told Cindy, who stared at him quietly, not believing it.
"Cin?" Lucas asked.
"Savage Girl?" Cindy asked, swinging her gaze back to the dark bay, unnamed yearling in front of her. He was big, dark, and marked with three white socks and a narrow stripe down his face. He looked just like any other foal Savage Girl produced.
"This is her fourth foal," Lucas said. "Bought him for Joel Woods."
"Her first foal was a colt," Cindy said. "Argus nearly killed his groom."
"Argus should have been cut," Jack commented, looking at the unnamed yearling who stood watching them, unaware of his Kentucky Derby winning half-brother or his dam's history of throwing crazy offspring.
"Are we going to geld this one?" Cindy asked Lucas.
"Not until it becomes clear he's going to give us problems," Lucas said. "He's dropped already, so the only other reason to geld him would be if he becomes impossible to handle safely."
Cindy frowned, and sighed. Lucas had a stud colt on his hands, and this one was probably going to give them trouble no matter the status of his reproductive system. Cindy only shrugged and looked at Lucas.
"What's Mr. Woods considering for a name?"
Lucas let a wry smile slip up his face. "Halcyon."
Cindy gave him a look and burst into laughter, turning around easily and walking up the aisle, shaking her head. Through her laughter, she glanced over her shoulder, watching Jack and Lucas staring at her curiously.
"Come on, guys," she called, waving for them to follow her. "We've got four other horses to unload. They aren't going to do it by themselves."
With that, Jack only shook his head slowly and shifted forward with Lucas, following Cindy back out into the rain.
Later that afternoon, Cindy parked her car outside of Lucas' barn to grab a few items she had left in Lucas' office. The stable row was quiet and nearly empty as she walked down it, dropping quick kisses on Sunday Punch's forehead and Wonderment's nose. The two colts watched her curiously as she picked up her things off the leather chair in Lucas' office and spun quickly to leave. She had to run home and change before Ashleigh and Ann arrived, since she had promised her father and Josie that she would go out to eat with everyone that night.
She whirled out of the barn and back to her car. As the rain continued to fall, she looked in her rearview mirror and watched another smaller van pull into the Belmont gates and roll through the backside toward the Whitebrook barn. Cindy sat quietly for a moment, considering what she needed to do. She turned her head casually, watching the white horse trailer turn and splash through the puddles, rolling to a halt far down the row of barns and parking by Whitebrook's stable.
Gripping the steering wheel, Cindy listened to the rain hit the roof of her car and roll down the windshield. The van's driver's side door swung open, and Cindy could see Ashleigh jump down to the ground, turning swiftly to slam the door shut and run through the rain around the cab, disappearing into the barn.
Part of Cindy wanted to drive down and help them unload the horses, but she knew sullenly that she would only be in the way.
Quietly, Cindy slid the key into the ignition and turned on the car, listening to the engine turn over. She flicked on the lights and the windshield wipers, looking forward for a long moment before she glanced back at the van. Cindy spotted Ann and Josie running out into the rain to help Ian and Ashleigh with the horses, opening up the trailer and lowering the ramp. She smiled quietly as she watched them back down the gorgeous bay body of Adriatic, followed by the reddish bay Roma. The two heavyweights for Whitebrook pranced uncomfortably in the rain that slapped coldly against their bodies and sank into their coats. Cindy followed them with her eyes as they disappeared into the barn.
Pushing a damp clump of hair behind her air, Cindy frowned at herself and threw her car into reverse, pulling away from Lucas' barn. She turned the steering wheel and went forward, rolling over the gravel of the backside and through the gates of Belmont, heading back into New York.