Jockeying for You (3 page)

Chapter 2

Time flew until four o’clock. Ryder barely noticed the hours rushing by. Calls to owners, instructions to jockeys for future races, and one passive-aggressive argument with a surly jockey’s valet all ate time at a fast pace. But her best, albeit most time-consuming, distraction was her four-year-old mare, Yankee Doodle Girl, winning her race. Yankee hadn’t exactly been a long shot, but the mare hadn’t been thought to win, either. Ryder almost laughed at the thought that she and Yankee had a lot in common—they both shouldn’t be underestimated.

Better yet, Ryder would be getting ten-percent of Yankee’s winnings. The ten percent bonus would be gladly accepted. The more races won, the more money Ryder had to rent stalls from the racetrack. Having more stalls meant more horses under her care. And more horses meant more chances of winning ten percent. Technically, when a trainer agreed to work with a horse, they were gambling, too.

That was, assuming the trainer had the luxury to decide which horses to train. Some trainers had a heck of a time convincing owners to—figuratively—bet on them. Though Ryder was in solid shape with nine stalls, she knew better than to take her luck for granted.

It seemed Jake was seriously considering betting on her. If they made a deal, and Handsome Dancer became a consistent winner and notable name, she’d have good leverage with the track to give her as many stalls as the best trainers around.

Ryder’s ears honed in on the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned around, already looking up to spot the tall height of Jake. Instead, it was Mindy Gomez, one of the two other women trainers. Mindy wore her usual work attire, worn out blue jeans and stained gray sweatshirt. A long, brown braid hung over her left shoulder making the middle-aged woman appear youthful.

“Great job with Yankee Doodle back there, Ryder. I thought for sure you’d be screwed when your mare got stuck with the number one gate.”

“Thanks, Mindy. I always cringe when they wind up in there. You know how the first horse loaded into the starting gate is usually the first to freak out.”

Mindy lowered her voice and moved her eyes around the stalls to see if anyone was listening. “How did you calm Yankee Doodle Girl down? What’s your trick?”

Ryder bit back a grin. Lenny had taught her everything she needed to know. Trainers in general were very secretive of their winning techniques. But Lenny had been only too happy to bestow on her every method and trick he had. Because if one of her horses failed to consistently place, another trainer would be hired in a heartbeat. Thankfully, the horses she trained performed well. Yankee Doodle Girl’s win was not an anomaly.

Before Ryder could answer, Mindy shot out, “Wow. Check out Mr. Gorgeous.”

Ryder’s brow wrinkled. She didn’t know any horse by the name of “Mr. Gorgeous.”

She turned to peer down the path and quickly realized Mindy was referring to a man. Jake. He was, however, leading a horse that had to be the animal equivalent of a gorgeous man. In fact, both males truly were stunning. “The man is Jake Carter. The horse is Handsome Dancer. Mr. Carter wants me to check him out for possible training.”

Mindy burst out laughing. “Training which one of those studs? I hope for your sake it’s the man.”

Ryder bit back a burst of laughter. Sure, Mindy was funny but laughing like a lunatic would not portray her as a professional when Jake arrived.

“Better yet,” Mindy continued with a wicked grin, “forget you, I’m willing to take Jake Carter for a ride.”

“Mindy, cut it out, will you? This is business.” Ryder frowned. “And that was way too much information anyway.”

Mindy laughed harder. “Hey, you asked.”

“I didn’t ask,” Ryder shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to act crazy around him or will you pretend to be a normal person?”

Lenny suddenly appeared from a stall so quietly Ryder jumped in surprise. “Act normal around who?”

“Lenny! Stop popping up like that,” Ryder protested. “Why don’t you ever say when you’re in the stall next to us?”

Mindy squinted at him. “How is it you don’t make any noise?” she accused. “I swear, you’re more ghost than guy.”

Lenny grew taller and puffed out his chest like a rooster. “I don’t need to explain myself to you, missy. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“And you’re short and sneak up on people.” Mindy put her hands on her hips. “You’re a leprechaun. Admit it.”

Red smoke was going to come out of his ears. Just as soon as his face finished morphing into a tomato.

“She’s only kidding,” Ryder hastily said, putting a hand on him. “Mindy’s a real joker today.”

She could see Lenny taking a deep breath in an obvious attempt to calm down. “You ladies didn’t answer my question. I asked who you’re supposed to act normal around.”

Mindy gestured to the fast-approaching Jake Carter. “Him,” she answered, not waiting for Ryder to respond.

“That’s Mr. Carter all right,” Lenny said. “A man with a whole lot of horses and a lot of influence on racing. Get lost, Mindy, will you? Ryder and I have some business to do.”

Mindy laughed, waved, then disappeared somewhere down the long line of stalls. “We’ll talk later, Ryder. See ya tomorrow. And you’d better spill all the details.”

Jake entered, his brows furrowed. “Is now a bad time? I don’t want to stop you from your other business, and it seems like you still have lots of activity going on.”

Jake seriously hoped Ryder was free to talk. And not only about business. The way she blended in with this mostly male environment, while still retaining her femininity, was enough to intrigue him. Her body was petite yet appeared strong. Her personality seemed to match. Soft spoken, yet she could hold her own. He brushed back his too personal thoughts and demanded his brain focus on business.

“Yes, I’m free to talk now,” Ryder answered. Her words seemed to be tossed out without much thought to him, her attention focused purely on his colt. “Hi, Handsome Dancer, let me take a look at you.”

Her words sounded as soft as a summer breeze. No wonder people called her the horse whisperer.

“His name suits him well,” she commented. “He
is
quite handsome.” She checked him over thoroughly. Her eyes and hands gently and quickly darted over Handsome’s body. Occasionally the horse’s skin would flinch as her hands glided over him. Otherwise he stayed still.

“I’m surprised he’s letting you touch him so easily,” Jake marveled. “To be honest, he isn’t nearly so docile for anyone else.”

“He walked nice enough with you,” she countered.

“Yeah,” Jake said, scratching his head and letting out a laugh. “I think he likes me. But I can’t ride him or train him, so it doesn’t solve my problem.”

“Horses are very sensitive to people. They either like someone or they don’t.” She used a higher-pitch murmur to address the horse. “Isn’t that right, babycakes?”

After the horse stilled for a moment, it turned its head to nuzzle her shoulder. Its broad, open forehead had a snip of white on its nose. Jake watched Ryder’s left hand immediately rise to stroke the long nose. With her other hand she continued to feel around the animal. What she was gauging, Jake wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, Handsome was happy to have her check. The horse closed his large, clear brown eyes in apparent bliss and nuzzled her harder. In response, Ryder gave him more soft coos.

Moments later, she straightened and walked away for a moment, only to return with a carrot. “May I?” she asked Jake.

Handsome’s ears perked up. Jake could swear the horse smiled. “Fine, go ahead. If I said no, Handsome would hate me, too.”

She laughed softly. “He’s a lover, not a fighter. He’s got a bad rap.”

If he wasn’t careful, Ryder would be hypnotizing him with the same effortless moves as she was now using to control Handsome.

But then he watched her pat Handsome’s head as he ate the carrot, her strokes long, circular, and obviously soothing.
Damn, if she keeps doing that with her hands I’ll want to be a lover and not a fighter too.
He shook his head against the erotic thoughts, belatedly hoping she didn’t notice.

Whatever emotions he was feeling, or fighting, were ones not shared by Ryder. She was doing a much better job staying on task. The questions she asked him and the comments she made were clearly geared toward work.

“He’s in excellent shape,” she remarked.

“I know. With what I pay for his upkeep, he should be.”

“Mmmm, okay, but I didn’t mean that. I mean his body. He’s shaped perfectly. Even his chestnut color is right. The only quirk in his coloring are his white lower legs.”

“I know. Is it true that a thoroughbred having white legs is an indicator the horse is no good? It was one of the many reasons the prior owner didn’t want him anymore. And I’ve had plenty of people tell that to me, too.”

“I personally don’t believe it, no. I think it’s a silly superstition. Horses with white patches on their heads aren’t written off as failures. Plenty of thoroughbreds have snips or star patterns on their heads and nobody complains about that. So why the legs?”

She circled Handsome who was dutifully chewing the last of the carrot. “Finished so soon,” she teased. She looked up at Jake. “Mind if I give him a candy? It’ll keep him in a good mood while I continue.”

“Do what you need to do.”

She nodded and withdrew a striped peppermint candy from her jeans. When she unwrapped it she placed the hard candy on the flat of her hand. Handsome’s lips descended, apparently eager to try it. While the horse was busy enjoying his sugar high, Ryder went about her inspection.

“His withers are perfectly formed.” She picked up his back left hoof, which the horse easily gave her. “His feet are in great condition, too. They point straight ahead.”

Jake observed her examining the hoof prints Handsome had made walking in, and then watched her move a few paces down to follow them. “Yep. He’s not pigeon-toed, or pointed out. His tracks are dead parallel. And the hoofs are well sized for his body. If anything, they’re a little bit wide, which is good. Narrow footed hooves can make a horse lame from having to bear too much load on these fast, hard tracks.” She checked each hoof and then stood in front of the animal. “No sign of fractures in any of the hooves, either.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or wonder if you have a foot fetish.” He almost laughed at her gaping expression.

After a moment, she smiled. “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?”

Though her response was meant in the same jest as his question, it had the unexpected effect of a tightening in his pants.
No, it wasn’t too personal at all.
He straightened up. “Only kidding, of course. What’s up though with you and Handsome’s hooves?”

She bit her lip, obviously thinking how best to respond. When she made that adorable face, it made his body respond as well.

“I’m going to try an analogy here. Are you into car racing?” she asked.

“No, I stick with horses. But since I drive a Ferrari you can try me anyway.”

He lost his smile as she bit her lip again. Hopefully she was impressed and not put off. Otherwise, the Ferrari was going back to the dealer.

“Well, think of a horse’s hooves like the tires on your Ferrari. No matter how awesome the vehicle itself is, it can’t perform well on bad tires.” She ran a hand down Handsome’s front legs. “The rest of the animal’s legs are important, too. For example, this joint, right above the hoof. He’s got a nice short pastern on his two front legs so he won’t exert as much strain on his tendons as long pasterns would. His hind leg pasterns are normal length, so there’s no problem there.”

Jake wondered if she would notice if he skimmed over her with the same detail she was observing Handsome. Hopefully not. It was too hard not to check out Ryder. The way she evaluated the horse was more than as an intelligent, interested, knowledgeable professional. She seemed to be so caught up it was as if she was in love. Whether her love affair was with her career in general or Handsome Dancer in particular he didn’t know. He was starting to wish this captivating woman would look at him the same way.

Her hand ran up to the knees. “Normal forelegs, not
tied-in
or
calf-kneed
. Maybe a bit
over at the knee
, but this shouldn’t be a problem at all.” She switched her attention to the hind legs. “Hocks are good, too. His legs drop straight down from them, which is ideal. The back hooves aren’t forward of the hocks, so we don’t have a sickle or cow hock problem.”

Jake liked how Ryder used the term “we.” The woman had clearly said the inclusive term without giving it a second thought. Maybe she really did think they were a team. Hiring her seemed more like a sure bet with every minute he knew her.

“And how about these shoulders,” Ryder marveled. “They’re long and sloping. Pared with short cannons and long forearms, Handsome must have a very long stride. Powerful, too.” She straightened and smiled at him, giving Jake a warm feeling. “Height and weight?”

Jake felt the warm feeling slip away and frowned. “Fifteen hands. Nine hundred and seventy-five pounds. Too small?”

“No. He’s not that big, but a smaller horse like him can be more nimble. They can pick their ways through the narrow holes in the traffic jam on the way to the home stretch. Large horses can’t slip through so easily. And Handsome’s more lithe and lanky than blocky and big, which means he’ll have more staying power even if it does mean less sprinting ability.”

Handsome gently bumped his head against Ryder’s shoulder in an obvious attempt to get her attention. She laughed and once again ran her hands up the horse’s face. “The position of his ears is forward facing and alert. No nervous twitching or lying flat back like he’s an angry guy.” She gave a scratch behind an ear and cooed, “You’re not angry, are you, babycakes?”