The Horsewoman (15 page)

TYLER CULLEN’S VOICE
over the speakerphone filled the interior of the new Maserati. Gorton had treated himself to it the previous Monday, using his share of the goddamn horse’s winnings. Why not?

“Did they buy it?” Cullen asked.

“Who gives a shit?” Gorton said. “I actually kind of like Maggie. Might have tried to hit that under different circumstances. It’s the kid and the old lady who piss me off. The kid especially. She looks at me like I’m some old loser trying to hit on
her.
”

Gorton was taking his time driving back to the island. Blaine would probably just be getting up. He’d never seen anybody sleep like this girl. But the sooner he got back to the house, the sooner he’d have to talk to her.

“Tell me the truth,” Gorton said. “Do I have the best horse?”

“We’ve gone over this.”

“I want to hear it again.”

“Yes, you do,” Cullen said. “But that kid will never be as good as she was the other night. Just because she got hit by lightning doesn’t mean she’s still not over her goddamn skis. No chance in hell she’s good enough to ride like that over the next three or four months and make it to Paris. But I am. One hundred percent.”

“You screwed up the other night,” Gorton said.

There was a pause at the other end of the call.

“Totally on me,” he said. “Got ahead of myself because I wanted to beat her ass too much. Won’t happen again.”

“Better not.”

“It won’t.”

“And the kid isn’t good enough to get the points she needs?”

“No,” Cullen said. “She’s good. She is. She’s got potential, if she doesn’t let her arrogance get in the way. But she’s not her mother.”

His voice dropped for a couple of seconds and then Gorton heard him say, “And that kid sure as hell isn’t me.”

“Can you make the Olympics on your horse?” Gorton said.

“Probably,” Cullen said. “But put me on yours and we don’t just make it to Paris, we ride off into the sunset with a gold medal.”

Gorton was only half-listening. He was picturing himself stopping at the Honor Bar for a Bloody Mary. He checked the dashboard clock. A little early, but they’d goddamn well open for him.

“So we’re back where we were before she won the damn thing,” Gorton said. “We’ve got to find a way to get her off the horse for good.” He paused. Definitely the Honor Bar. He could already taste the first drink of the day. “You made any progress on what we talked about?”

Cullen was cautiously optimistic, saying he had to be careful.

“I like the way you think,” Gorton said.

Cullen laughed.

“Only because it’s the way
you
think,” he said.

“Couple of sore losers,” Gorton said.

They were both laughing when Gorton ended the call and headed for the Flagler Bridge.

Sometimes he screwed with people for the best reason in the world: because he could.

MAGGIE WOULD HAVE
gone to the gym instead of Gus’s barn had Becky wanted to join her.

She told herself, when she finally made the decision to reach out to Gus, that it just hurt too much
not
to ride. Only now it was riding that hurt. Like hell. A lot. Every day. About an hour into this morning’s ride, Maggie couldn’t decide if she’d come back too soon. Or shouldn’t have come back at all. Another way of looking at it.

She was being reminded right now how much riding taxed her legs. Her back was sore, too, and her neck, and even her forearms. And her butt. As she posted, the simple up-and-down of being in the saddle, every time she’d land, she’d feel a stab of pain that would shoot all the way up to her neck and shoulders, almost into her brain. At which point the ache in her upper body rivaled the pain in her legs. She’d get herself into a hot bath when she got home.

“Is there a problem?” Gus said from his chair. “You could always take up a new sport if this is too painful for you.”

“Who said anything about pain?”

“You didn’t have to,” he said. “My legs don’t work. But my eyes do just fine.”

“If I wasn’t ready for this, I wouldn’t be here,” she said.

“Don’t tell me,” he said. “Show me.”

“Do your other riders get this kind of tough love?”

“Who said anything about love?” Gus said.

Dr. Garry had told her two months, absolute minimum, to get back on a horse. She’d done it in half that time, as much out of stubbornness as need.

She winced suddenly.

“What?” Gus said.

“Cramps,” she said, through clenched teeth.

“Where?”

“Every…where.”

They could come up on her that fast and cause her legs to seize up the way they were seizing up now. Gus yelled for Seamus, who came running. When her boots were on the ground, both legs gave out, and she sat down. Hard.

Gus reached into his chair’s side pouch, grabbed a bottle of water, handed it to her, told her to drink all of it. She did. When the pain slowly began to subside and the muscles relaxed, she lay on her back and did some stretches that had helped her in the past.

Finally, slowly, she was able to get to her feet.

“You ready to get back to work?” he said.

“Now?”

“You know what they say,” Gus said. “Don’t tell me about the pain. Just show me the baby.”

“You know who says that?” she said. “Guys.”

It was when she had turned Paladin and put him back into motion that she saw Daniel Ortega staring at her from the other side of the fence.

SHE TROTTED PALADIN
one more time around the ring. When she finished, Daniel was the one coming out to help her down. Her legs were cramping again, though not as badly as before. But she wasn’t going to let him see that.

“What are you doing here, Maggie?” he said.

“Isn’t that obvious?” she said.

“What’s obvious,” he said, “is that it’s too soon for you to be doing this.”

“Probably so,” she said. “But not your call.” Then she snapped at him, “The one who has no right to be here is you.”

She knew she had no right to be angry at him. But she wanted to be angry at somebody. Mostly because she’d been caught.

“We need to talk,” she said. “Right now.”

She ignored the pain in her legs, her knee really barking at her now, and led him out of the ring and over to the driveway where Daniel had parked his car next to hers. She resisted the powerful urge to sit down and she leaned against the side of her car instead.

“First things first,” she said. “If you tell either one of them, you’re fired.”

They both knew she meant Becky and Caroline.

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

“Try me,” she said.

Daniel suggested they have their talk over coffee.

“Right here is fine,” Maggie said. “I’m not done riding yet.”

“Gus seemed to be under the impression the horse was done for the day,” Daniel said.

“Is he the one who told you?”

She just wanted to be sure.

Daniel shook his head.

“Are you certain of that?”

“Yes, Maggie, I am.”

Don’t sit down. Fight off the pain. Keep going.

“If you wanted to start riding again,” Daniel said, “why here and not at home? Why aren’t you training with me?”

“I don’t need a trainer right now,” she said. “I need a nanny.”

“But why here?”

“Because I don’t want them to know!”
she said.
“Because I don’t want them to see me like this.”
She sighed and in a quieter voice said, “I didn’t want you to see, either, if you want to know the truth.”

“Maggie,” he said, “as Dr. Garry told you, if you get hurt now, it won’t be a month away from riding. It could be a whole year.”

She could feel heat rising up in her, mostly because she knew he was right. She’d always told Becky:
When you’re right, you’re right.

But she kept her voice calm.

“It’s not your decision,” she said. “Not Mother’s, or Becky’s, or even Dr. Garry’s. It’s mine. The same as it will be my decision when I want to tell my mom or Becky. And that is why you are going to promise me that you’re not going to tell.”

“You will have to tell them eventually,” he said. “If they don’t find out the way I did.”

“Until I do,” she said, “I don’t want them looking at me like I’m a piece of my mother’s precious china.”

She looked at him.

“Okay?” she said.

She studied his face. Saw the hesitation before he answered, as if having a debate with himself Maggie could almost hear.

“Okay,” he said finally.

“You promise to keep my secret for now,” she said.

She knew it wasn’t close to being a question.

“If that is what you wish.”

“You’ve got your secrets, Daniel,” she said. “Now you get to carry around one of mine. I’ve got this. I do. And until I tell them, I don’t want you worrying about me.”

That got a smile out of him.

“Now that,” he said, “I cannot promise.”

“And I will make a promise to you,” she said. “I won’t jump until I’m sure I’m ready. I promise.”

They shook on it. At least her hands didn’t hurt.

He told her he would see her back at the barn, got into his car, and drove away. Maggie watched until the car disappeared. Then she limped inside the barn and told Gus she wanted to spend just a little more time in the ring.

“Could you wait about fifteen minutes so I can watch you?” he said. “I’ve got a quick conference call in the house about this horse in Kentucky we’ve been looking at.”

“I’m barely going to do more than walk,” Maggie said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he said. “Because if I break you, your mother is going to be really mad at me.”

Seamus got Paladin ready, walked him out, got Maggie up, then Gus wheeled around the corner of the barn toward his house. When Maggie was sure he was gone, she urged the horse into a trot.

But when she got to the far end and turned him back around toward the barn, she didn’t hesitate.

Gave him one kick, and then another, telling him to pick up speed.

Then she was coming down the middle to where Gus had set up a small jump for his other riders, feeling as if she were flying, blocking out the fear now, oblivious to the pain she was still feeling, feeling herself smiling, even as she felt her breath coming as hard as the horse’s.

She jumped Paladin then.

Felt the jolt in her legs as he landed, but kept going, circling like it was a tight rollback.

Coming back around.

Jumped him again.

I WAS GETTING READY
to ride Sky in competition, for the first time since the fall.

Second Friday after the Grand Prix. In a side ring today, not the International Arena. Meter 30 today, half what I’d jumped with Coronado. When I walked the course with Grandmother the top rail didn’t look much higher than a curb after what I’d been jumping with Coronado.

Grandmother was training me today, not Daniel, who had driven to Fort Lauderdale to meet with an immigration lawyer, Mr. Connors.

“It is for a friend, not me,” he had said.

“Is your friend in trouble?” I’d asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to get into trouble helping him?”

“He is my friend,” Daniel had said, and left it at that.

Normally Mom would have been the one to step in and act as my trainer. But this happened to be the day when Dr. Garry had scheduled an MRI and some other tests to see how she was healing.

“You don’t need me anyway,” she said at breakfast. “You’ve got the world’s greatest trainer in your corner today.” She nodded at Grandmother and said, “Just ask her.”

“It’s almost not fair to the other riders,” Grandmother said.

She was chattering away as we walked the course, pointing out the hot spots in between bantering with other trainers and riders. Ever since we’d gotten Steve Gorton off her back and she wasn’t worrying about money, at least for now, she seemed happier than she’d been since Mom’s injuries. Clearly enjoying the hell out of the way things were going.

“God, it’s good being back in the saddle,” she said after we finished walking the jump-off course.

“Did you really just say that?” I said.

She winked and began singing.
“Back in the saddle again…”

“I’ll pay you to stop singing,” I said.

“Out where a friend is a friend…”

“People are staring,” I said. “You know that, right?”

“Just letting them know that the grandmother is back,” she said.

There were sixty in the class today. Normally Tyler Cullen, one of the headliners for a four-star Grand Prix on Saturday night, wouldn’t have bothered with a smaller event like this. But he’d decided to enter another one of his horses, Bandit. Grandmother and I were convinced he was doing it to mess with me, even though I wasn’t riding Coronado today.

After we were finished in the ring, we sat on the grassy hill above it and waited for Emilio to walk Sky up from the barn. Suddenly, my grandmother threw back her head and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I said.

“I was just imagining that little twerp Tyler Cullen trying to smart-mouth me today,” she said.

“He
is
kind of small, now that you mention it,” I said.

“One of these days,” Grandmother said, “I might ask him if he wants to sit on my shoulder.”

When Emilio was back with Sky, Grandmother made a point of checking boots and saddle and bridle and spurs.
Totally
in charge today and loving every minute of it. Time for me to get up on Sky in the schooling ring. I put on the hairnet I wore under my helmet, put on my gloves. Walked down the hill. Emilio helped me up. Grandmother clapped her hands.

“Let’s do this,” she said.

She walked over and took her place next to the practice jumps. As I eased Sky into her first jump of the day, I heard Grandmother yell, “Eyes up. Heels down.”

“I know,” I said as we went past her.

“I heard that,” she said.

We came back around.

“Hands up!” she barked.

“They
are
up,” I said.

But I felt myself smiling.

“Not high enough,” she said. “Different horse today.”

“No shit,” I said, my back to her.

“Heard that, too,” she said.

Mom had always been her main focus, even after I’d started riding in competition and Grandmother told me I was wasting my talent, and my promise. But today was all about me.

Back in the saddle again.

After a few more jumps, getting closer to my place in the order, she waved me over.

“Remember,” she said. “Coronado drifts left. Always. Into the jump, over it, through it. Sky does the opposite. She goes right. Go ahead and jump her again.”

I turned Sky away from her, over to where Emilio was standing near the fence. As I did, I saw a flash of gray, and saw Tyler Cullen nearly cut me off with Bandit. No contact. But he had to have seen me. Which meant he’d done it on purpose. I was able to get Sky out of his way at the last second.

“Oops,” Tyler said sarcastically. And loudly, as if for the benefit of everybody else in the ring.

I ignored him. I was five out by now. This was a big day for me, being back on Sky. I wasn’t going to spoil any part of it by making a scene with Tyler Cullen.

So I was easing Sky away from him and his horse, and in the direction of the in-gate, when I heard my grandmother’s voice, as loud as if she were using a megaphone.

“Cut the shit, Shorty!” Grandmother yelled.