Gargantuan_ A Ruby Murphy Mystery - Maggie Estep [53]
When I emerged from the bathroom, Lucinda was sitting up. She had pulled the sheet all the way up to her chin. Her hair was matted, her eyes were puffy, and she looked frightened.
“Good morning,” I said.
“What time is it?” she asked abruptly.
“Quarter to four,” I said, motioning at the bedside clock.
Lucinda jumped out of bed. I got a good look at her back and the dark pink scar that was violent evidence of her accident. It was thick and ran the length of her spine. I felt my stomach knot up.
“You’re looking at my scar,” she said.
“Sorry,” I said.
She gave me a dirty look, then went into the bathroom. I heard her running water in the sink.
I went into the kitchen and shuffled around. I made coffee, poached some eggs, and toasted four pieces of bread before Lucinda appeared. She looked considerably happier than she had upon waking. She smiled and looked around the kitchen. Cat had finished her cubes of meat, but was lingering near the bowl, licking her paws.
“I made breakfast,” I told Lucinda.
“Can’t eat now,” she said.
“You can’t? You have to ride though, you need energy.”
“Nope. Slows me down,” she said, shooting a dirty look at the toast.
“I’ll watch you eat,” she said, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.
I felt uncomfortable choking down my eggs as her eyes bored holes in me. She said nothing as she sipped black coffee. I tried bringing up a few topics. Who she was riding for this morning, Will Lott’s new turf mare, like that. Anything I said or asked was met with monosyllabic grunts. She evidently felt as awkward as I did. This was a relief, really.
Twenty or so minutes later we left my apartment together. She said she had some riding clothes in a tack room at the track and didn’t need to go home.
I parked the car then walked Lucinda to Don Beach’s barn, which was on the way to mine. The sun wasn’t thinking about coming up yet but the backside was alive and thrumming. The radios were going. Horses were whinnying. Buckets were rattling.
“I’ll see you a little later?” I said as we lingered there at the edge of Don Beach’s shedrow.
“Yeah,” she shrugged, not seeming to relish the idea.
“Everything okay?” I asked. I could feel eyes on us. One of Don Beach’s grooms was staring. Within a half hour the backside would be talking about how the attractive exercise rider who’d had an accident and lost her nerve was sleeping with some claimer trainer with a beard.
“Sure, everything is fine,” Lucinda said then turned her back to me.
I wasn’t at all sure she’d turn up at nine to work my horses. Clove was racing and I was only going to walk her that morning but the other two needed work. I chastised myself for everything as I headed to my barn to feed.
My horses looked worried. Humberto, the groom who feeds for both the trainers I share the barn with, was already there, dispensing grain to everyone but my three. I greeted the stocky Peruvian man. He favored me with a grunt. He seemed to get along with the horses just fine but he didn’t have any charm to waste on people.
MY HORSES WERE relieved when I dumped breakfast into their feed tubs. They’d all changed hands so many times before they’d doubtless had some very shitty handlers and missed more than a few meals. It made me a little sick to think about.
I stood in Clove’s stall while she ate, watching to make sure she was cleaning up every last bit of her light breakfast. I didn’t need to worry. She inhaled the stuff then rattled her tub with her nose, letting me know she wasn’t pleased about the tiny portion.
“You’re racing today, girl,” I told her, patting her neck. She truffled at my sweatshirt pockets, looking for the treats I normally kept there.
“Sorry, girl. Not today.”
I started taking off the wraps I’d had on her overnight. Her legs felt good. Cool, firm.
“How do you feel?