Golden Filly Collection Two (33 page)

That night when Trish returned from class, in which she’d stayed alert for a change, Martha told her that David had called.

“Thanks.” Trish ran up the stairs and dumped her stuff on the floor by the bed. She dialed the number, then pulled off her boots while it rang.

Marge answered. “Good evening, Runnin’ On Farm.”

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Hi, Tee. We’re getting him all packed.”

“What do you mean?”

“David’s leaving for Tucson tomorrow so he has time to stop and see you. Martha said they had plenty of room for him there. You’ll see him some time late in the day.”

“Whew, you guys don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Not much.” There was an awkward silence.

“Mom, are you okay?”

Trish heard a faint sniff. “I will be. It’s just that this house will be awfully empty till you come home.”

“Why don’t you come with him?” Trish lay back on her pillows.

“I wish I could, but I’ve still too much to do with all the paper work and stuff. I’m not even sure I can make it down to watch you race.”

“M-o-m!”

“I know. But even though your father had his will in order and a lot of other stuff, there’s still too much to do.”

Trish gripped the phone till her knuckles whitened. “You have to come, Mom. I’m counting on you to help me win.”

“No, Trish. You count on God and yourself for that, not me. Is there anything you want David to bring?”

“Just you.”

“Rhonda came over and showed me what you bought. Her new outfit is beautiful.”

“Isn’t it? I have one too. Oh, I almost forgot, we’ve started the paper work on the claimer. He looks good. I wanted a filly but Carlos found this gelding. He said he’d buy it himself if he had the money.”

“Good. The mare and filly come tomorrow. Sure will be busy when you’re all home again.”

“Well, I gotta get to sleep. See you in a couple of days.”

“Trish.…Good night, Tee.”

So David would arrive tomorrow. Would he want to go sightseeing too? Trish brought out her journal, propped herself up against the headboard, and began writing. She managed only two sentences before her eyes closed. The book thumping to the floor woke her enough to turn out the light and set the alarm.

“Okay, just walk her around the short track nice and easy. The swelling is gone, and if it stays down she should be okay for Sunday.” Adam stroked Firefly’s shoulder after boosting Trish into the saddle. “We’ll need to clock her day after tomorrow, so we’re cutting it pretty close.”

“I’d rather scratch her than take a chance on a long-term injury.” Trish smoothed a stubborn strand of the filly’s mane to the right side.

“I agree, but this is the last good race for her this season and I hate to miss it unless we’re forced to.” He stepped back. “Have a good one.”

Trish brought Diego’s horse in for a show that afternoon. The horse that won ran all the others right into the ground and then left them lengths behind. Even Trish couldn’t fault herself for not winning that one.

“You have nothing to say?” Adam cocked one eyebrow at her.

“Yeah, you think they want to sell that horse?” Trish looked over at the winner’s circle, where the colt, jockey, and entourage posed for pictures. “He was moving.”

Trish lost the next one. Ended up next to last. The horse broke badly, swung wide on the turns, and ran out of steam down the stretch.

“I rode better than that as an apprentice,” she muttered, following the other jockeys back to the jockey room.

She gathered up her gear and headed around the track to the barn. Maybe David would get here before she had to leave for school. But probably not. She checked her watch. She needed to go early to finish making up two more labs. At least on Friday all she had was a lab. Richard had canceled their last tutoring session. Maybe she could get David to coach her.

When she got in her car, her gaze automatically fell on the Post-it Note on her dashboard. She’d written it as a reminder. Big letters. PTL. Praise the Lord. Sure, praise the Lord for losing a race. How about for riding a dud of a horse? It would be easy to praise the Lord if she owned the horse who won the first race.

She could thank Him that no one got hurt today. And that David was coming. There, those were her two things for the day. “And please help me finish these experiments fast. And right.”

The wind felt wonderful in her hair and even the traffic moved smoothly as she drove to school.

When she got home that night, David sat in the living room visiting with the Finleys.

“You made it okay.” Trish crossed the room to give her brother a hug. Strange, they never used to hug, but now it seemed natural—and necessary.

“That’s a
long
drive.” David rubbed the small of his back with doubled fists.

“That’s why I like flying.”

“There’s iced tea in the fridge if you want,” Martha said.

When Trish returned from the kitchen, she smacked her lips. “This is really good. You did something new.”

“Added a bag of mint tea to the regular sun tea.”

“I like it.”

“What’s sun tea?” David asked. He took another swallow from his sweating glass.

“You put the tea bags in cold water in a jug and set it out in the sun for the day.”

“One of the good things about California sun.” Trish chose to sit on the floor between David and the Finleys. “But the oranges alone are worth living here.”

“There are some of those on the kitchen table, if you like.” Martha turned to David. “Trish found out that oranges that never saw the light of a cooler are a whole different fruit.”

“Like, are they ever. ’Course you’ll have them in Arizona too.” She took another swallow of tea. “Still, I wish you weren’t going.”

“You want me around to do your chemistry.” He patted her on the head.

“You want to? I just happen to have some here.” Trish leaned forward like she was going to get it right then.

“No, no, baby sister, you do your own homework.”

“Rats.” Trish finished her tea and checked the grandfather clock on the far wall. “Speaking of which, I need to go do some and hit the sack. We working people have to get up early.”

“Call me when you get up. I’ll be ready when you are.” David leaned back on the sofa. He covered a yawn with his hand. “If you think driving down here in one day isn’t work, you’re crazier than I thought.”

“Thank you.” Trish smiled at the Finleys and rolled her eyes.

They both smiled at her antics. “‘Night, Trish.”

Having David at the barns in the morning felt like old home week. When he boosted her into the saddle on Gatesby, he stood by her knee, smiling up at her.

Trish caught the flick of Gatesby’s ears. Before she could do any more than open her mouth, the gelding clamped a bit of David’s shirt in his teeth and yanked.

“Ouch.” Gatesby obviously got more than cloth. “You idiot horse.” David rubbed his upper arm. “Why we keep you around…” He glared up at Trish, who had collapsed on Gatesby’s neck with laughter.

“You should s-s-see your f-face.” She broke up again.

Adam and Carlos tried for all their worth to keep straight faces, but Trish’s laughter tickled them into joining. Trish tried to straighten up, but when she looked over their heads, Juan was leaning against the barn, his shoulders shaking, his hands clasped over his mouth.

“Go ahead. All of you. Laugh it up.” David clamped a hand on the reins right under Gatesby’s chin and raised the other hand as if to strike. Gatesby lifted his head away and rolled his eyes. He knew how to play the game.

“It’s so good to be the butt of the joke my first morning.…”

“The bite.” Trish cracked up again at her own cleverness.

“Huh?”

“Not the butt, the bite of the joke.” She spoke slowly as though he didn’t understand the language.

David made as if to grab her, but when he dropped the reins, Gatesby reached around and David grabbed the reins again.

“Hah, think I’ll go work off some of his energy. When we get back, maybe David’ll be in a better mood,” Trish said for Gatesby’s benefit.

“Give her a real ride, you old nag,” David muttered to the horse. Gatesby tossed his head as much as the hand on his reins would allow.

Trish heard herself humming as they trotted out on the track. That
had
been fun. She stroked Gatesby’s neck and patted his shoulder. “We should put you in a circus act,” she told him. “Gatesby, the fastest-running clown on earth.” Her horse jigged sideways. He seemed to enjoy the fun as much as she did.

But the fun in the morning had no bearing on the racing in the afternoon. Trish had two mounts and neither one of them made it into the money. The first one quit running in the stretch and no amount of the whip made any difference.

Trish hated to use her whip at all, let alone enough to get the horse to try harder. He just didn’t have it in him.

The second one, in the third, kept pulling away from any horse that came up on his right side. And since they had the rail, that meant every horse in the field. “You might want to put blinkers on him,” she mentioned to the trainer after dismounting. “Is he that shy all the time?”

“Nah, only since he took a bad bump. You’re probably right.” The trainer led the horse away.

Trish couldn’t believe she’d offered her opinion. Only disgust had made her do it. She tried not to yell at herself, but discouragement won out. By the time she got back to the barn, she was down again.

“You want to watch the rest of the program or go to the beach?” she offered David the choice.

“The beach.” He turned to Adam. “Unless we should go see that gelding now.”

“Tomorrow will be fine. You two have a good time.”

She drove all the way without a word. She could feel David glancing at her, waiting for a response to his comments, but she focused only on the road. She parked in her usual place, with the Pacific stretching before them. A fishing boat, dark against the gray swells, chugged north to the man-made harbor.

“So this is where you’ve been coming. I can see why.”

“David, I’m thinking of quitting racing.” There, the words were out.

Chapter
11

T
hat’s the stupidest idea I ever heard.”

“You saw that race. It was typical, just the way my season is going.”

“Trish, every athlete, every jockey, has a down time.”

“I hardly get any mounts, other than ours and Adam’s.”

“There are more jockeys here; the track is bigger, and so is the money. Besides that, you’re not the darling here you were at home.”

“I’m not a winner here either.” She clamped her lips shut, then turned

her head. “So you’re saying my wins were because of Dad and Spitfire?” “No, that’s not what I meant. Quit twisting my words around.” “So?” She crossed her arms across her chest.

“So what?” David looked at her, confusion written all over his face. “So, what did you mean—about me being the darling at home.” “Well.” David clicked his teeth together and pursed his lips. “At home

you were known before you apprenticed. Everyone liked you, and Dad had

both a good name and lots of friends. And then you had that gift…”

“
Had
is the right word.”

“Shut up and let me finish this. You have a gift of understanding horses and getting them to perform at their best for you.”