Backstretch Baby (7 page)

“The track is only open in the morning,” she said. The horse pawed again, and she placed a steadying hand on his neck. “I needed to get this guy out and stretch his legs.”

Rick blinked and leaned back in his seat. And then he laughed. A big booming belly laugh. “
That’s
the reason for all those vehicles,” he finally managed, still chuckling. “They’re looking for someone who’s riding a horse at the wrong time?”

“It seems like overkill to me too.” She leaned forward, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “But could you please tone down the laugh. Because they will suspend me if I’m caught.”

He squeezed his mouth shut, still grinning at the absurdity. There was no major crime here—no felons or bodies or blood. It was the type of place where they sent three security vehicles roaring after a tiny woman on a docile horse. Maybe Scott Taylor had been right about a vacation.
This
was what normal people worried about—riding after hours.

He couldn’t keep his lips straight, and another laugh leaked out.

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” she said. “But if you can’t be quiet, could you at least cover your mouth? Sound does carry.”

There was a new edge to her voice and clearly she didn’t suffer fools gladly. And suddenly it was important she not consider him a fool.

He unfolded from his seat and stepped up to the rail. “I’m not laughing at your predicament,” he said. “Just astonished they’d pull all the guards for this…horrendous rule breaking.”

“Well, they do need to keep the horses safe. That’s everyone’s goal. And the track was freshly harrowed so it’ll be smooth for tomorrow morning.” Her slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “But yes, their reaction is surprising.”

She was trying to be fair, and he liked that. He didn’t really want to open the gate and let her vanish into the night. Talking to her was much more fun than nursing a beer in another dirty bar.

But she probably wanted to scoot. Now that he was standing next to the rail, she’d be able to see every inch of him, from his worn leather jacket to his scruffy hair and jaw. And no amount of scrubbing could wash away the stench of his work. It hung over him like a cloud. No doubt she was terrified.

“Are you going to just stand there?” she asked. “Or are you going to open that gate?”

He grinned. Not terrified at all, just impatient. He studied her face, the regal tilt of her head, the determined press of her lips. She was spunky, fearless and so tiny he could probably wrap one hand around her waist. But best of all, she treated him like he was normal.

“Certainly I’ll open it.” He spread his hand over the rail, stalling for time. “But what will you do with that horse in the parking lot? Is there a pathway back to the barns?”

He’d already memorized the layout and knew the answer to that question. There was no way around the guards.

She shook her head. “No, but I can wait in the saddling enclosure until morning. It’s good ground there and it will be fine on Tizzy’s feet.”

“You’re going to stand there all night?” he asked, deciding he definitely wanted to stay and keep her company. “Doesn’t sound like much fun…alone.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s worse for Tizzy than me. Especially since I hoped to race him on Saturday.”

She hadn’t picked up on his invitation, or else had chosen to ignore it. He suspected the latter. There was a focus about her, a clarity of purpose. She was clearly concerned about her horse, as if she were used to responsibility and didn’t intend to shirk it.

She placed her hand on the horse’s neck again, reassuring him that he’d be okay. That she was going to take care of him. And that little gesture moved Rick, even more than the desire to talk her up.

“The race on Saturday,” he said. “Is that important to you?”

“Very.” She shot a wistful look across the track. “Hopefully the guards will give up and leave, so I can get him back to his stall.”

“Maybe I can help with that.” He raised his helmet, setting it on top of the rail. “And have some fun in the process.”

Her eyes flashed with hope. Then she shook her head. “A bike diversion might work but if they catch you, they’ll give you a hard time. And if it’s on the public lot, they’ll call in the real police. And they’re usually bigger assholes than the security guards.”

“They won’t catch me,” he said.

She looked at him more carefully, her gaze traveling from his head to his boots, absorbing him with feminine awareness. “Probably not,” she said, and her voice sounded a little husky, a little more promising.

“I’ll draw them off. You get your horse home.” He leaned closer, sensing the new vibration in the air. “And then I’ll come back and see you on Saturday. Maybe we could have dinner? Or find something else we’d both like to do...”

She’d been leaning forward, closer to his face, but abruptly straightened. Even the horse raised his head and turned all indignant. “Or you won’t draw them off?” she asked. “You expect some sort of payment?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’ll get you off the track, no strings. But I will be around on Saturday. And I would like to see you again.”

She scanned his face, still wary, but after a moment her shoulders softened. “All right,” she said. “I’d like that too. So you better not get caught.”

“Tell me more.” Ashley swung the bucket with such excitement that water splashed Eve’s leg. “Was he on a bike or a car? The guards are so pissed.”

She adjusted Tizzy’s bucket then turned back toward Eve. “When I stopped at the security booth this morning, everyone was complaining about being up all night. They said two guys were stunting in the parking lot, but they couldn’t catch anyone.”

Eve rocked back on her heels, swept with relief. She’d worried all night about her unlikely savior. The security Jeeps had fled their posts at the first taunting roar of his engine. Then it had been simple to ride Tizzy through the unmanned gap and return to the barn. She hadn’t told Ashley and Miguel many details—just that someone had kindly offered to create a diversion.

“Liam isn’t even certain about the vehicle,” Ashley went on. “The driver seemed to know where all the security cams were. But Liam asked where you were last night. And if you trained a black horse.”

Eve studied Tizzy who was tugging at his hay, seeming none the worse for last night’s escapade. Fortunately, bay horses often appeared black. She wasn’t too worried about Liam and the security guards. It had been a dark night and she’d been wearing a helmet and vest. Identity would be hard to prove.

“He asked a lot of other questions,” Ashley went on, “like if we were able to replace our bridles. And why Miguel and I were looking for my wallet so late last night. He’s definitely suspicious.”

Eve shrugged. She didn’t want her staff fretting. It was a trainer’s job to absorb the worry. She gave Ashley a grateful smile. “Thanks for your warning. If I didn’t see the flashlight and hear you talking, I would have ridden right into them.”

Ashley’s forehead wrinkled. “It was like they were expecting us.”

“We filed a report,” Eve said. “Obviously they know our bridles were stolen.”

She tugged the water hose in a tight coil and gave a regretful sigh. She’d escaped this time, but it would be too risky to ride again at night. Especially if the guards were watching. And she didn’t have enough money to buy replacement tack.

“We’re going to have to leave, aren’t we?” Ashley asked. “Liam thinks I might be able to find a job here. Catching urine. Just until I have the baby. After that I can go back to Santa Anita and find jockey work.” She jammed a tendril of hair behind her ear and peeked at Eve, as if gauging her reaction.

“That’s great.” Eve gripped the water hose with both hands. Her training career was imploding before it even began. But a pee catcher’s job would be perfect for Ashley. It mainly consisted of holding a container on the end of a long stick and gathering a horse’s urine for drug testing. Best of all, the Thoroughbreds were tired and relaxed after a race so it was relatively safe.

At least Ashley would have a job. It was clear Victoria wanted all three of them gone: Ashley because she was pregnant, Miguel because he was old, and Eve because she was friends with Jackson.

She swallowed, trying to gather a more encouraging response. “You should probably grab that job. But I’ll sure miss you.”

“Me too,” Ashley said glumly. “There’s so much more you can teach me about riding. If only they hadn’t stolen our bridles. That was the lowest. Guess the women want the sand area to themselves.”

“I can’t believe it was the women,” Eve said, fighting her sense of betrayal.

“But I saw someone creeping around in the woods earlier, and everyone knows the locals don’t like newcomers. Liam says we should stay away from them. Luckily I locked the feed and tack rooms last night.”

“Very lucky,” Eve said dryly, “considering that’s your job.”

“Yes, but I was up late helping you escape the guards.” Ashley covered her mouth and gave a theatrical yawn. “So of course I’m extra tired this morning.”

“Go on back to the dorm,” Eve said. “It’s still dark, and I can’t ride. You can catch up on your sleep.”

“Awesome!” Ashley didn’t need a second invitation. She dropped her bucket, turned and hurried down the aisle. “You’re the best boss ever,” she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the dark.

Eve finished coiling the hose, appreciating the break from Ashley’s chatter. She was grateful the guards hadn’t caught her bike rider, and was a little surprised with her impulsive agreement to meet on Saturday. But there was something appealing about him and she couldn’t deny the flare of attraction. She’d felt the same way when she first met Joey’s dad, five years earlier at jockey school.

She walked down the aisle, checking each animal, making sure they were all watered and happily chewing hay. They required grooming and stalls needed to be cleaned. However, the hectic morning schedule was vastly altered now that no horses could be exercised. It felt all wrong to have downtime in the early morning, like her life was out of sync.

She trudged back to the entrance, dropped onto a chair by the door and checked her phone. Jackson hadn’t answered any of her texts. No surprise there. But Victoria had replied for him:
If you don’t race by Sunday, horses will be shipped home
.

She dropped her head in her hands, trying to push away the beginning of a headache. Maybe she should give up and return to Santa Anita. At least she’d be with Joey. A part of her felt bereft without him. She missed his hugs, his gap-toothed smile, the trusting way he clutched her hand. But he’d be with Scott and Megan this weekend—his doting aunt and uncle who never had time or money problems. And who were eager to be a bigger part of his life.

Maybe too eager.

Fear banded her chest, matching the pain pulsing in her forehead. If they realized she hadn’t had a paycheck in four months, they’d offer her money. And she hated accepting charity. Hated that she couldn’t give Joey as much as they could.

A trainer’s job had seemed perfect. Earning a percentage of a horse’s winnings, while keeping both feet safely on the ground, was better for a mom. She’d thought the earnings would be more dependable, especially after a rash of injuries stopped her from race riding. But training was challenging too, especially when she had no cash cushion for unforeseen events—like stolen car batteries and bits and bridles.

She wasn’t inclined toward self-pity, but her usual confidence was shaken. The only bright light was that she hadn’t been caught last night, thanks to the big biker with the sexy voice and irreverent laugh. She’d always felt more comfortable with men who weren’t afraid to bend the rules, unlike Ashley who gravitated to the lily-white security guards, guys in crisp khaki uniforms who freaked out over a little riding curfew.

Movement flickered by the trees. She quit analyzing her taste in men, and jerked forward in the chair. Someone was definitely out there, indecipherable in the predawn. But a second shadow darkened the sand pit. And another. Then three more.

For a second, she simply stared, too stunned to move. So Ashley was correct. It was the locals who were stealing. She couldn’t tell if they were men or women but they were definitely working as a group. Trying to drive her away. And their theft had tanked her career.

Adrenaline shot through her, fueled by white-hot fury. She jerked from the chair, too angry to be afraid. Grabbed a pitchfork and charged toward the picnic tables.

 “
Buenas dias, princesa
,”
someone called. A woman’s voice. And shockingly familiar.

“Juanita?” Her steps faltered. She never would have suspected the older woman was linked to the thieves. Of all the ladies who gathered in the afternoon, she had become closest to Juanita. Even though they were both reserved, they’d already shared a few confidences. Eve had even talked about her son—something she rarely did around the track—and confided how she hoped to bring Joey here to visit.

Helplessness replaced her anger and her fingers loosened around the wooden handle. No way could she report Juanita and her band of women. Some of them didn’t even have green cards. A conviction could wreck their lives. And it wouldn’t recover the missing bridles. No doubt, the tack had already been flipped.

“We didn’t want you to see us,” Juanita said.

“I bet not.” Eve jammed the pitchfork into the ground, her shoulders sagging.

“Even my cousin helped,” Juanita went on. “In Guadalajara, he worked with metal. If this doesn’t work for your devil horse, he’ll make you another.”

“Devil horse?” Eve tilted her head. “You mean Stinger?”

“
Si
,” Juanita said, excited now and reverting to Spanish. “We hope it’s enough.” She stepped sideways and gestured at the picnic tables.

Eve blinked.

Bridle parts covered both tables. Countless pieces of leather and nylon and metal buckles, enough to make twenty bridles. The leather was cracked and worn, the buckles discolored, but every piece was precious.

Her knees caved and she leaned against the pitchfork, unable to move or speak, stunned by their thoughtfulness. The women must have tramped around for hours, collecting discards from every single shedrow.