Gargantuan_ A Ruby Murphy Mystery - Maggie Estep [56]
I went to one of the betting windows and put fifty bucks on her to win. It was a stupid thing to do but I had to do it. To her credit, Lucinda didn’t bet my mare. Even though doing so might have curried favor with me.
“You don’t think she’s gonna do it, huh?” I asked Lucinda as we walked over toward the rail.
“She might,” the girl said diplomatically.
The horses were at the gate now. Clove loaded in peaceably and stood well as she waited for the bell. A moment later, the gates sprung open and the twelve fillies and mares bounded forward. I checked the tote board. Clove had gone off at 40-1. Second longest shot on the board.
To my astonishment, Sylvere seemed to be following my instructions. He was letting Clove settle at the back of the pack. A small chestnut filly had set the pace and it looked fast. At the quarter mile the announcer called the time: twenty-two and change. Which was suicidal for a route race for claimers and, ultimately, would benefit Clove’s running style. I felt a quiver of hope. Which shrank at the three-quarters pole when Clove was dead last, close to fifteen lengths off the leader. I looked away, pained. Suddenly though, Lucinda grabbed my arm.
“Look,” she said, motioning wildly at the track, “she’s coming on.”
Sure enough, my bay mare was on the move. Like a damned bullet. Using herself so beautifully it looked like the other horses were standing still. She effortlessly passed horse after horse, and, with less than a furlong to go, she caught the pacesetter and pulled ahead, widening the margin to two lengths under the wire.
I felt my heart hammering my chest.
“She won! She won!” Lucinda was saying, in case I hadn’t noticed.
This was my first win as a trainer. At 40-1 no less. And I’d bet fifty bucks on her. Not bad for a day’s work.
Lucinda was still at my side as I walked out onto the track and grabbed Clove’s bridle. Sylvere looked extremely pleased with himself.
“How you like me now, boss?” he said, grinning down at me.
I reached up and shook Sylvere’s hand then led Clove into the winner’s circle. Her eyes were huge and she was blowing pretty hard but her ears were forward; she was proud of herself. It was all I could do not to kiss the horse as I stood there, trying to keep her still for the photographer.
Once the photographer finished, Sylvere leapt down off Clove and, accepting a few handshakes from well-wishers, made his way to the jocks room to change his silks.
Lucinda was still glued to me as I led Clove back to the barn to walk her off and bathe her. I made a big fuss over the mare and she was clearly pleased with herself. She actually seemed to be holding her head a little higher and she had a new brightness in her eyes.
And then, as afternoon loosened and turned to evening, after I’d groomed and wrapped and lavished attention upon Clove and finally put her up for the night, I found myself with a great deal of nervous energy. I didn’t want the electricity to end. Lucinda was still there. Raking the aisle in front of my horses’ stalls.
I was torn. I didn’t think I could please this girl even if my heart had been fully in it. And it wasn’t. All the same, I felt like she’d had something to do with the beautiful hue of the day and I felt like I owed her something. I asked her to come home with me. She accepted. Not showing any feelings about it. Just saying, “Okay.”
BEN NESTER
17.
The Comfort of Strangers
When I finally laid eyes on the little guy my heart started beating so fast I thought it might come drumming out of my chest. Darwin was three now but to look at him, I’d have guessed four. He was rippled with muscle and built solid from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail. What had been just flecks of gray in his coat had taken over now. He was