CHAPTER 10

The pre-dawn darkness hovered over the area as streaks of gold began to appear in the eastern sky. Tonya took a deep breath of the cool, dry air, with its smells of horses, hay, and leather, and sighed.

When she got to the barn, Chris was already there. He and Alana were leaning on the railing, talking and looking more serious than she had ever seen them look before. Tonya noticed they were holding hands. For some reason, she was irritated by it. Alana used to come to the barn to see Tonya. Now she didn’t even notice her.

Tonya decided not to interrupt them and went to Gus’s stall. He nickered at her and pawed the stall door for his carrot. As he chomped it, she gave him a quick brushing. Royce showed up and led the bay colt into the aisle to get him ready for the morning’s workout. Tonya watched as Chris gave Alana a parting kiss and moved to join Royce.

She led Gus into the aisle and held him while Luis put his tack on. “Beautiful morning, eh, mija?” he asked as he tightened Gus’s girth and kept out of the way of the colt’s usual kick.

Tonya shrugged moodily. “If you say so.”

Luis eyed her for a moment and then held his cupped hands for her to step up onto Gus’s back. Once she and Chris were up on the horses, Royce said, “I want these two to work together today. Gallop them for a half mile, then breeze them for three furlongs at thirty-six seconds. Try to keep them together, but if they want to compete, don’t hold them back. We’ll see who wants it the most.”

Tonya and Chris nodded and started off toward the track, with Royce following on Howitzer. As they walked along in the crisp morning air, Tonya felt her mood lighten. Both horses were happy to be out of their stalls, and they snorted and tossed their heads in their joy.

Once through the track gate, they turned left and jogged around the turn toward the grandstand. Two other horses were working together along the inside rail and, as they raced by, she recognized Mike Torres riding one of them. At the seven-eighths pole, Tonya and Chris turned their colts around and let them ease into a gallop, standing high in their stirrups.

As they moved down the backstretch, Gus pinned his ears back at the bay colt and tried to grab the bit in his teeth. Tonya knew this meant he wanted to pull away from the other horse, a good sign of a competitive spirit, but she kept him galloping side-by-side with the bay.

As they approached the three-eighths pole, they moved the colts closer to the inside rail, still keeping them running together. When they passed the pole, both riders sat down and gave the horses their heads. Gus shot forward with his usual spurt of speed, and she let him go. It was up to Chris to keep his colt with Gus. Chris was clucking to him and moving his hands on his colt’s neck to urge him on, and the bay responded. But when Gus saw him pulling alongside again, he laid his ears back and picked up speed.

Around the turn they went, both colts giving it their all. Tonya knew they were going faster than the ideal twelve-seconds-per-furlong clip, but Royce did say he wanted them to enjoy the competition, and Gus was certainly enjoying himself. She took a snug hold of the reins, but Gus seemed to think she was going to try to slow him down. He took the bit in his teeth and stretched his neck, pulling away from the bay by half a length. As they swept under the wire, she saw Royce sitting on Howitzer at the finish line with his stopwatch in his hand, and she knew he would be happy with Gus’s performance.

They slowed the colts around the turn and then jogged back toward the grandstand. When they got to Royce, he seemed very pleased.

“Gus nearly equaled the track record for three-eighths again,” he said looking at the watch. Tonya was delighted and stroked Gus’s neck. Royce smiled. “He should be ready for the Futurity if he keeps training well. But I’m thinking this colt may need a longer race to get the best out of him,” he said, nodding at the bay. “Head back to the barn.”

Chris and Tonya jogged the colts toward the gate to the backstretch. As they continued around the turn, she was shocked to see the horse ambulance parked on the backstretch and several people crowded around a horse lying on the track. Her heart leaped into her throat. There was no worse sight than a horse down on the track.

As they came closer, she realized it was the horse Mike had been riding. He was thrashing around, trying to get up while Mike held his head down by his bridle. The horse’s right foreleg was clearly broken and hanging at an odd angle. His white-rimmed eyes were filled with terror, and his grunting made a pitiful sound. Doc Frey was there with a hypodermic needle in his hand. She and Chris looked at each other. “Oh no,” she said, feeling sick at the sight.

They started to pass the ambulance and head for the gate, but Tonya couldn’t tear her eyes away from the awful scene. Mike was kneeling beside the horse, stroking his neck while the vet administered the shot that would end the horse’s pain and suffering--forever. Tonya could see tears on Mike’s face, and her heart ached--for Mike, for the poor horse, for the owners and trainers who would suffer the loss of this beautiful young animal. She knew racing was a hard business, and falls and accidents were part of it, but for those who loved horses, each death was a tragedy and one that stayed with them forever.

Tears welled up in Tonya’s eyes as they passed the scene. She thought of Mike crying as he knelt by the horse and decided anyone who felt that way about horses couldn’t be all that bad. She wondered if his desire to be a vet was at all dampened by what he had just experienced. Death of animals was part of the life of a veterinarian, but it was still traumatic. Anyone who took it lightly probably shouldn’t be a vet.

The walk back to the barn was a quiet one. Chris and Tonya were each lost in their thoughts about the accident. Even the colts seemed to sense that something had happened to spoil their daily routine. Do horses feel empathy for one another? she wondered. She was sure they did.

As they unsaddled the colts and handed them to the grooms to be bathed and walked, Royce rode up on Howitzer. He dismounted and tied the gelding to the railing then came toward Chris and Tonya.

“Whose horse was that, Royce?” Chris asked.

“One of Graham Lynde’s. Damn the man,” he said, his eyes blazing. “This kind of thing happens too often with trainers like him.”

“What do you mean, Dad?”

Royce shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. Let’s go see Lexi’s new horse.” As he and Tonya started down the shedrow, he put his arm around Tonya’s shoulders and pulled her close to him.

They found Lexi standing in front of a stall, her arms folded on the top of the door, her head on her arms, gazing at the horse inside. She looked up when she heard them. “Well, here he is, my very own bad boy.”

A tall, lanky, dark brown horse with no white markings stood in the back of his stall, looking at them with haughty eyes. He turned toward them slightly, showing a very narrow chest, long thin legs and neck.

“He looks like Real Quiet,” Royce said. “Remember him?”

“No. Who’s he?” Tonya asked.

“He won the Kentucky Derby in 1998. He was tall and so thin he reminded his trainer of one of those skinny fish in an aquarium, so he nicknamed him The Fish.”

“Let’s hope this guy has half the talent of Real Quiet,” Lexi said. “Ready to work him?” she asked, turning to Tonya.

“Sure.”

Lexi opened the stall door and clipped the lead rope onto the horse’s halter. As she led him out the door, Royce reached up to stroke his neck as he walked by. The horse pinned his ears back for a moment.

In the aisle, he stood quietly while Lexi saddled him and Tonya held his lead rope. The big horse put his nose down to Tonya, and she stroked his long, thin face. “You’re not such a bad boy, are you?” Tonya murmured to him. “What’s his name?” she asked Lexi.

“JKs Imperial Count. I just call him Jake.”

Once he was tacked up, Royce boosted Tonya into the saddle, and she looked down. The horse was so narrow she felt like she was astride a fence. “Tall, isn’t he?”

“He’s over seventeen hands,” Lexi replied. “Just an easy gallop for a mile or so today. He hasn’t been on the track yet, so just let him look around and get his bearings.”

Tonya started Jake toward the track with Royce and Lexi walking behind. They would watch the workout from the backstretch fence. Jake gazed around, sometimes following other horses with his eyes. Tonya marveled at the view from atop a taller horse than she had ever ridden.

When they got to the track gate, she noticed that the ambulance was gone. The horse had been removed, and all was back to normal. It saddened her to think that a horse could die on the track and, an hour later, he was just a memory.

She eased the big horse onto the track, stroking his neck and talking to him. He flicked his ears back as he listened to her voice. She and Jake were complete strangers, just feeling each other out. She hoped that, in time, they would become friends and partners--a team working together to win races and helping each other to become the best they could be.

She clucked to him, and he moved down the track in an easy trot then into a rolling gallop. His long legs made for a comfortable ride, and Tonya had the impression of pent-up power just waiting to be tapped. She stood in the stirrups, content to let him set his own pace as he loped along taking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds of his new home.

They galloped slowly down the middle of the track, around the far turn and into the homestretch. He was still moving along quietly, seeming to enjoy his outing, when two horses breezing together passed them on the inside rail. Tonya felt his muscles tense and his pace quicken. She let him follow them, his long strides eating up the track. He began to close the distance between them, but Tonya decided to slow him back to an easy gallop and tightened the reins. Jake shook his head in protest. He’s got some run in him, for sure, she thought.

She galloped him around the far turn and headed for the gate. Royce and Lexi stood there talking and smiling at one another. Neither one seemed the least bit interested in her, the horse, or the workout. As she rode up to them, she cleared her throat. “He had a good workout,” she said loudly. “Just in case anyone’s interested,” she added under her breath.

Lexi tore her eyes away from Royce and answered, “Good to hear.”

Right, Tonya thought.

Back at Lexi’s barn, Tonya hopped down from Jake. Lexi unsaddled him and tossed a cooling sheet over his sweaty back. She replaced the bridle with his halter. “I’d better cool him out.”

“Hold on just a sec,” Royce said and bent down to examine Jake’s left knee. Facing the back of the horse, he held the knee in both hands looking for swelling or heat.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Lexi warned, noticing Jake’s flattened ears and tail switching back and forth. “He might not like--” She didn’t finish her sentence before the big horse reached around and bit Royce on the butt. Hard.

“Ow! Damn!” Royce bellowed, jumping up and down with his hands on his rear. Lexi and Tonya could hardly contain themselves. They grinned at each other and then tried to look serious while they consoled Royce.

“Oh, Dad, that must hurt.”

“Sorry, Royce. I guess he really doesn’t like men all that much. Are you okay?”

Royce continued rubbing his rear. “My own fault,” he said sulkily. “I should have been more careful around a strange horse. Let that be a lesson to you, Tonya,” he pronounced with great dignity.

“I will, Dad,” Tonya responded seriously, her eyes twinkling at Lexi.

***

Over the next week, Tonya rode Jake every day. The more she worked with him, the more she understood him. This was a horse with a mind of his own. As long as he was running the show, he was perfectly amiable. But if she ever tried to get him to do something he didn’t feel like doing, she had a battle on her hands. The perfect equine control freak, she thought. Lexi agreed. They both decided it was best to let him manage as much of his own training as possible.

“Just like with most men, the trick is to let him think he’s the boss, while getting him to do what you want him to do,” Lexi said one day.

Tonya wondered if that was what Lexi was doing with her father.

It seemed that Royce was spending more time at Lexi’s barn than at his own. He and Lexi seemed to have little jokes between them, teasing and razzing each other relentlessly. It was disgusting. Now Tonya was sure she hadn’t been imagining things, and the more Royce enjoyed Lexi’s company, the more it irritated Tonya. But Lexi was giving Tonya an opportunity to be Jake’s regular jockey, and that was her goal, so she pretended not to notice their silliness.

One morning, Tonya stood in front of Jake’s stall, feeding him carrots. He always came to the door when she approached and talked to him, bending down to nuzzle her pockets just like Gus did. She stroked his long, thin face as he munched the carrots. His long ears gave him a comical expression that reminded her of a big, skinny mule.

Lexi approached with Jake’s tack. “Take him to the starting gate for some schooling,” she instructed as she boosted Tonya onto Jake’s back. “There will be two other horses schooling. Your dad has one scheduled, too, so we’ll both be down there to watch. Break with the other two and breeze them together for three quarters. It’s time to let him out and see what he can do.”

“Okay,” Tonya answered as she adjusted her stirrups, thinking this must mean she was going to enter him in a race soon. All horses that were new to the track had to be schooled at the gate a couple of times before the stewards would allow them to race.

As Tonya gathered up her reins, Royce rode up on Howitzer. “Hey, lady, want a lift?” He had that goofy schoolboy grin on his face again. Tonya clucked to Jake and started off toward the track. She didn’t think she was up for another episode of the Royce-and-Lexi show.

Jogging Jake down the track toward the starting gate, she noticed several horses and trainers there, but couldn’t tell who they were. A horse passed her, loping in the same direction, and she was irked to see Royce and Lexi riding double on Howitzer. Lexi was on the back of Royce’s Western saddle, her arms around his waist. Tonya let Jake break into a gallop, warming him up for his fast workout.

When she reached the gate, she was surprised to see Alana on Sable and Mike Torres on one of Russ Danville’s colts. Sable’s shoulder had almost completely healed and, while Royce didn’t want her working fast, he thought a couple of gate sessions would do her some good, especially considering what happened the last time she was at the gate.

Tonya waved at Alana and walked Jake up to the black filly. “Hey, Alana. I haven’t seen you for a while. How are the ribs?”

“Pretty well healed. Glad to be riding again.”

Tonya wondered if she was nervous at all, but she seemed fine.

Mike was sitting on his horse nearby, watching them with his usual annoyed expression. “Let’s get on with it. We’ve been waiting for you,” he growled at Tonya.

Mr. Jeffers was there acting as the starter for the schooling session. “No hurry. Better a day late than a dollar short,” he said with a smile.

Tonya and Alana turned their heads away, trying not to burst out laughing.

Alana giggled. “Old Captain Metaphor strikes again.”

Chris was standing near the rail watching Alana. She waved at him, and he grinned back. Billy O’Casey stood on the railing of one of the stalls, watching. His face turned purple, and the veins in his neck stood out. He jumped down from the gate and came to Jake with the lead rope. Jake pinned his ears at Billy and backed away from him. The last thing Tonya wanted was to have Jake in Billy’s hands. “I think he might do better without a header. Let’s see if he walks in by himself.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” Billy said, his charming smile wiping his face clean of all traces of anger.

Honey, Tonya thought with disgust, suddenly feeling completely in sympathy with Jake’s dislike of men. She urged Jake forward, and he walked quietly into the stall, sidestepping away from Billy. Another assistant led Sable into the gate and held her head. She seemed much quieter this time.

Royce had asked that Sable spend as little time in the gate as possible, and Mr. Jeffers was happy to comply. But Sable began dancing a little in her stall and holding up the start. Torres stared past Tonya to the next stall. “Come on, girl. We don’t have all day,” he groused.

Tonya’s Irish temper flared up. “Her name is Alana, not ‘girl,’” she snapped at him.

This was the Mike Torres she knew, female-hating, angry, and impatient. His face reddened, and he looked away.

Sable settled down long enough for the start, and Jeffers pressed the button that opened the gates and sent them away. Mike’s horse and Sable broke sharply, but Jake seemed to be in no hurry. He sort of oozed out of the gate like half-set Jell-O pouring from a bowl. Alana slowed Sable right away and, after a hundred yards or so, stopped and turned the filly back toward the gate for more schooling.

Mike hustled his horse along, staying close to the inside rail. Tonya let Jake set his own pace, and, at first, he seemed content to gallop along two lengths behind. After about a half mile, he seemed to suddenly remember what this game was all about and began lengthening his stride. Down the backstretch he pounded, his ears flat on his head, leaning into the bit. He had the other horse in his sights and was bearing down on him, picking up speed with each stride. By the time they hit the far turn, they had closed the gap.

Into the homestretch, the two horses flew, nearly side by side. Tonya had no idea what Mike’s trainer’s instructions were, but as Jake pulled alongside, he went to the whip. Clearly, this was a competition to Torres. Tonya’s heart was pounding as she pumped Jake with her hands and feet. He kept up with the other horse, but Tonya desperately wanted to see him pull ahead, if for no other reason than to show Torres that she could ride as well as he could.

She reached back with her whip and gave Jake a smart tap on the left rear, asking him for just a little more speed which she was sure would get him past the other horse. To her shock, he immediately slowed down. Hardly believing her own senses, she tapped him again. Sure enough, he was slowing down. By the time they passed under the finish line, Jake had lost two lengths on the other horse, slowing almost to a canter. Tonya was stumped. She’d never had a horse respond to the whip that way.

Jogging Jake back to the barn, Royce and Lexi caught up to her on Howitzer. “Well, they warned me he doesn’t like the whip,” Lexi said. “I guess they were right. We’ll see how he responds in a race. He’s scheduled for a race next week, and you’ll be on him, Tonya, so let’s try to keep him happy until then.”

“Okay.” If we can keep him as happy as you seem to be keeping my dad, she thought with a smirk, he should be just fine.