Willow Smoke (86 page)

He
shrugged
his
shoulders
and
pushed
his
glasses
firmly
against
the
bridge
of
his
nose.
He
nodded
at
Clint.
“Yeah,
Daisy,
too.”

Daisy
scrutinized
Blue
Horizon,
who
was
entering
the
practice
starting
gate
under
the
guidance
of
her
female
exercise
rider.
For
once,
Thelma
Harrison
was
quiet,
resting
her
arms
on
the
rail
fence
beside
Daisy.
The
part
owner
had
made
it
a
habit
to
come
out
to
the
track
whenever
Blue
was
scheduled
for
a
workout.

This
day
was
no
exception.
Blue
would
be
working four furlongs from the gate.
This
would
be
a
huge
preparatory
work.
If
she
showed
something
and
came
out
of
the
breeze
fit,
then
they
would
try
to
find
a
race
for
her
within
the
next
two
weeks.

“Blue
looks
terrific,
doesn’t
she?”
Thelma
murmured.

“She’s
full
of
herself
this
morning.
We’ll see
how
she
comes
out
of
the
gate.
Soon
we’ll
know.”

Daisy
punched
the
button
on
her
stop
watch
as
soon
as
the
gate
popped
open
and
Blue
Horizon
lunged
forward
under
the
encouragement
of her rider. Blue’s strides
lengthened
and
she
tucked
her
head
down
to
her
broad
chest
like
she
enjoyed
what
she
was
doing.
Daisy
smiled
when
the
filly
blew
by
where
they
stood.
She
glanced
down
at
her
watch
and
let
out
a
low
whistle.
“Forty-eight
flat.
Very
nice.”
She
turned
to
Thelma.
“I
believe
we
do
have
a
racehorse
here.”

“I sure hope so. Tom’s
having second thoughts. But I love that beast. I just hope
she
can
do
well.”

“We’ll
see
soon
enough.
Some
horses
work
fine
in
the
morning,
but
run
poorly
in
the afternoon.” Shading her eyes from
the
early
morning
sun,
Daisy
studied
the
filly
approaching
her.
Nothing
looked
amiss.
The
horse
looked
like
she’d
prefer
to
run
another
mile
or
so.
“I
don’t
think
Blue
will
disappoint,”
she
said
to
Thelma.
“She’s
got
a
nice
set
of
wheels.
And
smooth
action.”

Both
women
followed
the
exercise
rider
and
filly back toward their barn. “It amazes
me that this track is right in the middle
of
the
city,”
Thelma
said.
“Arlington
is
beautiful,
but this is much more handy for the city fan.”

“Sure
is,”
Daisy
agreed,
never
taking
her
eyes from
the
legs
of
the
filly
walking
in
front of them. “Many days I just walk
to
work
when
we’re
running
here
at
Hawthorne. Funny, I love Arlington, but
this
is
home.
Guess
I’ve
always
been
a
south
side
girl.”

“Know
what
you
mean.
Tom
and
I
moved
to
the
near
north
for
a
while,
but
we
missed
what
was
familiar.
We’re
in
Kenwood
now—close to forty-seventh. Not in
the
kind
of
mansion
Nick
has,
but
we’re
doing
fine.”
Thelma
chuckled.
“We’re
back where
it’s
safe
to
be
a
White
Sox
fan.
Don’t
know
how
Nick
can
be
a
Cubbie,
though,
and
live
on
the
south
side.
But
then
he
seldom
does
what’s
expected.”

Daisy
glanced
sharply
at
Thelma,
who
was
giving
her
a
slow
smile.
Pursing
her
lips, Daisy said, “That’s for sure.”

They
reached
the
barn
and
Daisy
placed
a
halter
loosely
around
Blue’s
neck
and
then
helped
the
exercise
rider
slip
off
the
saddle
and
bridle.
“She
wanted
to
run.
I
had
to
work
at
getting
her
back
down
to
a
gallop,”
the
rider
explained.

Daisy
nodded.
“She
looked
good
out
there.
Thanks.
We’ll
have
two
more
ready
to
go
tomorrow
morning.”

“Great. I’ll be here.
Got to run. Cassie has a couple for me to work yet this
morning.”

Daisy
paid
little
attention
to
the
young
woman
jogging
off
toward
Cassie’s
barn;
she
was
focused
on
Blue’s
knees.
Daisy
bent
and
rubbed
her
fingers
gently
and
knowingly
up
and
down
each
front
leg.
She
worked
her
fingers
in
and
about
the
knees
feeling
for
heat,
feeling
for
something
wrong.
Blue
never
flinched
and
her
knees felt tight
and cool.

Satisfied
at
last,
Daisy
stood
and
blew
out
a
lung
full
of
air.
She
turned
toward
Thelma
and
gave
her
a
brilliant
smile.
“Thelma,
we’ll
race
within
the
next
two
weeks.”

“Hurrah,”
Thelma
squealed,
dancing
a
little
jig.

Blue
raised
her
head
and
backed
up.
Her
eyes
flared.
“Oh, sorry,” Thelma apologized. “I
forgot.”

“It’s
okay,”
Daisy
replied,
handing
Blue
over
to
a
groom.
“Just
don’t
do
it
again.
A
lot
of
horses
aren’t
as
laid
back
as
Blue
Horizon.
So
would
you
like
some
coffee?
I’ve got some brewing in the tack room.”

“I seldom pass up
coffee. You ought to know that by now, girl.”

“These
cups
may
not
be
the
cleanest,”
Daisy
said,
filling
two
cups
with
coffee.
“I’ve
been
meaning
to
take
them
home
and
run
them
through
the
dishwasher.
Sam
will
never
do
it.
He
wouldn’t
care
if
the
cup
is
black
as
long
as
it
holds
coffee.”