horsemystique

Chapter Three

"So what did your parents say when you told them you wanted to be in racing?" I asked Toby as we sat in a small coffee place later that day. I watched him take a sip of his coffee and push his black-rimmed glasses up. He was so cute when he did that.

"Actually," Toby started. "I never told them. Once I moved out, I never talked to them again."

"But they must be worried about you?" I questioned him. How can someone just move out and not tell their parents where they’ll be? Ok, I did. But that’s completely different. Toby shrugged and picked his cup up again.

I leaned back in my chair and sighed to myself. Just like that, he shuts down on me. Again. Just then, a waiter walked up to our table and asked us something, in Irish of course. But one could safely assume he asked us if we wanted anything else. I simply shook my head and Toby answered in Irish.

Chapter Two

The next day, I was up well before six o’clock. I wanted to get there early to spend some time with Shiloh before the workout. I tossed the blankets aside, and jogged toward the bathroom. Spending literally only a few minutes in the shower, I jumped out and pulled on my tan breeches and my rodeo t-shirt.

I ran down the steps and into the kitchen. Quickly, putting a slice of bread in the toaster, I sat on the floor and pulled my boots on. When the toast popped up, I grabbed that, a bottle of water from the fridge, my bag and keys, and headed for the door. It seemed like all I did since I got here was eat on the run.

I drove to the track faster than I did yesterday and was pretty surprised I wasn’t pulled over for speeding. Because that’s what I was doing. Yeah, I was that excited. When I pulled into the backstretch, it was quieter than yesterday, but there was still a handful of people walking around. Getting out of the car, I grabbed my bag and headed for Shiloh’s barn.

I was surprised to see the colt already tied outside his stall and his groom, Toby, getting him ready. Shiloh picked his head up from where it was snuffling for hay on the ground and stared at me. His ears were pricked forward and his nostrils flared. I smooched to him and tossed his head. Toby patted his neck and turned to look at me.

"You’re here early," he commented.

"Apparently, not early enough," I said, walking up to Shiloh, with my hand outstretched toward him. "I wanted to spend time with him before I rode him today."

"Well, I’m almost done here," Toby replied, walking past me to deposit a brush in a grooming box and picked up Shiloh’s saddle. "You want to help?"

"Sure," I took the sheet from him and placed it on the colt’s back. As Toby walked around the other side and placed the saddle on I asked the question that’s been on my mind for awhile.

"You know, I’ve been here for two weeks now, and everybody I’ve come across had spoken Irish," I started, making sure the saddle sat correctly on the colt’s back. "But yet, you, Sean, and Dan speak perfect English, Why?"

"Well, Dan and Sean were both born in Ireland, but Dan’s parents moved to the US at an earlier age and Sean’s parents moved all over Europe and the US, buying and selling horses," Toby explained. "They both constantly move from here and the US for races. As for me, I’m a full-blooded American."

"Ah, so why move here?" I asked him. It went quiet as Toby moved to the colt’s head and started to bridle him. I watched him curiously, waiting for his answer. But it never came. When he finished, Toby took the reins and started leading Shiloh down the aisle. I stood where he had left me, perfectly shocked. First, he’s all open and friendly and the next moment he’s quiet and mysterious. If that’s not a sign of a dirty, little secret, then I don’t know what is. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I grabbed my helmet and hurried to the track.

"Nice to see you back," Sean said when I arrived at the track.

"Why wouldn’t I be back?" I questioned him, putting my helmet on and walking up to Shiloh.

"After Shiloh’s antics yesterday, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to ride him again," Sean answered coming up behind me to give me a leg up into the saddle. When I got settled and gathered up the reins, I looked down at him.

"Actually, it’s just the opposite," I told him.

Sean smiled at me, "Well, this will just be a getting to know each other session," I gave him a confused look. "Start out at a nice, slow canter, just get used to his stride and movement. Then once you’re familiar with each, see what he gives you. The thing about Shiloh is he hasn’t taken to any certain rider, I want to see him get that spark in his eye and strive to win. Are you up to it?"

I nodded and clucked to Shiloh. The colt stepped onto the track and broke into a trot. He lowered his neck and snorted. A chestnut colt passed us on the inside and Shiloh tossed his head and broke into a canter. However, I pulled him back to a trot for a couple of strides and them urged back into a canter.

His stride was beautiful and I found myself closing my eyes. My body was moving with his in our own rhythmic tune. Suddenly, I became conscious of my arms moving with head and soon we were flying. It was like time slowed down and we were the only ones on the track, in the world.

~*~*~

"That was amazing," Toby was saying as he led Shiloh back up to the barn. "I have never seen him run like that before. He was incredible,"

"Ok, ok, I get it," I said, getting a little annoyed.

"What’s wrong?" Toby asked when he stopped the colt inside the barn. I watched him exchange the bridle for a leather halter before answering.

"Nothing, just hearing the same thing over and over again, gets a little tiring," I answered, watching him take the saddle off and put it on its rack. "Although, I have to admit, I have never felt anything like that before. Well, I have once...."

Toby looked at me as he clipped a lead onto the halter. I averted his gaze, hoping he would get the message and just let it go. He did. He led Shiloh out of the barn and I followed him. He stopped at the hot walker where a black filly and a bay colt were already hooked up. Toby hooked Shiloh and stepped back after he got the colt walking.

"You know the question you asked me earlier?" he asked.

I looked at him and nodded, "Yeah, I remember,"

Toby shifted a little bit and then looked back up at me. "Well, you see, my parents are Olympic stars, my mother in dressage and my father in showjumping,"

To tell the truth, I was a little shocked. Definitely not what I was expecting. "Wow,....but wait, then why are you here?"

"To make a long story short, I wasn’t really into those disciplines," Toby answered. "I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew it wasn’t that. Until, I saw one horse race and I was captivated. Dan found me working at Churchill Downs and offered me a job."

"He always does seem to be at the right place at the right time," I commented.

Toby nodded in agreement.

Chapter One

The bell over the door pinged as someone entered the small café and walked up to the counter. I paid no attention to them, though. I just sat in my chair, staring into my coffee, watching the hot liquid swirl round and round the inside of the cup. I sighed and looked at my watch. It was now half past eleven. I wasn’t going to wait around here all day, so I stood up, slipped some bills onto the table and picked up my canvas bag, slinging it over my head.

"Hazel Bradsmith?" came a voice from behind me.

I turned around and came face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered man about in his mid-thirties. He wore tweed pants, a navy blue jacket and tie, with shiny black shoes that I could see my face in. His brown hair was smoothed back and looked like he put way to much gel in it. I was so not impressed.

"Mr. Daniel Caldwell," I replied with a slight smirk on my face. "I thought you had changed your mind."

Mr. Caldwell smiled, "Maybe I should, considering your past."

My smirk instantly disappeared and I took a step closer and spoke to him in a whisper. "Listen, I did what I had to do, which was my only option. I don’t regret anything I did. So, you can stand here and judge me by my past or you can forget everything I have done and give me a chance. Either way, I won’t shed a tear."

I pushed past him the best I could, considering my short, thin frame to his tall, muscular one. I had just pushed on the door when he called back to me.

"Be at the track at seven tomorrow morning,"

I turned to look at him, a little surprised that he had agreed to take me on. "Okay," I said and for the first time since I came here, a smile grazed my lips. I pushed open the door of the café and stepped outside to the lush Ireland countryside. I could see the mountains off in the distance behind the buildings of the small town. It seemed like no matter where I would go, I could always see those mountains. Normally, that would so freak me out, but I actually like always being able to see those mountains. It was the one thing in my life I could depend on.

~*~*~

The next morning dawned bright and clear, a ray of sunshine peeking in through my curtains. I opened my eyes and gazed at the clock on my bedside table. It was a quarter to six. It took at least an hour to get to the track. I jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. There was no way I was going to be late for this. I had to show them all that I was dedicated to this and not just some juvenile delinquent.

After I had showered, I pulled on my jeans, t-shirt, and tall boots. I hurried down the stairs of my apartment, pulling my wet honey-brown hair into a ponytail as I went. I grabbed a pack of pop tarts from the cabinet, grabbed my canvas bag and headed out the door.

When I pulled into the track, the backstretch was alive with activity. Grooms were taking horses to and from the track, trainers were calling out instructions, and jockeys bragged about their mounts. I turned the car off and threw my keys into my bag. I opened the door and stood up, putting my sunglasses over my eyes. I pulled my bag over my shoulder and headed over to where I spotted the dude with too much hair gel, a.k.a. Mr. Caldwell.

He turned at the sound of my footsteps and grinned. "Cutting it offly close, aren’t you?" he asked me.

I smirked, and moved my sunglasses to the top of my head, "I get here when I get here and nobody tells me otherwise, especially you." I told him, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, instead he was looking at something over my shoulder. I turned around when I heard the sound of hooves behind me.

A beautiful dapple gray colt was standing there; his head held high, ears pricked, nostrils flaring. The bit jiggled in his mouth as he chewed nervously. The groom holding him was quite a sight too, being about six-foot, tan, with black hair falling into his eyes that were behind black-rimmed glasses. He looked no more than nineteen or twenty.

"This is Shiloh," Mr. Caldwell introduced me to the colt. "He’s a two year old thoroughbred racehorse and I think he’ll be a good match for you."

I looked at him doubtly.

"You’ll see," he said, looking away and calling someone over. A short, but still taller than me, middle-aged man, wearing jeans and a polo shirt walked over to us after talking to someone on a bay colt. "Hazel, this is Sean Hughes, my trainer. Sean, this is Hazel, the new jockey I found."

I shook the man’s hand politely. He asked me a few questions, mostly about my riding and I answered them the best I could. Finally, both men told me to mount up on Shiloh. I pulled my riding helmet out of my bag, tossed the bag by the fence and put the helmet on. I moved to Shiloh’s side, taken notice that the groom had disappeared and Mr. Caldwell had taken his place. I bit my lip to stop the laugh from coming; he did not look like he belonged there, holding a horse of all things.

Sean gave me a leg up and I settled quickly in the lightweight racing saddle. As soon as I sat in the saddle, I immediately felt at home and I couldn’t wait to feel the exhilarating gallop. I gathered up the reins as Sean started rattling off instructions.

"Jog him out a bit, hit the 3/4 pole and let him go," he instructed. "But keep him in check, I don’t want him getting tired."

I nodded and clucked to the colt. As we stepped onto the track, the gray colt snorted and immediately broke into a trot. Oh, this is going to be easy. He feels more like a school pony than a racehorse. As if he had read my thoughts, Shiloh let out a buck, and tossed his head in the air.

"Okay, okay," I said, after I had settled back into my seat. "I won’t make fun of you anymore."

As we rounded the first turn, Shiloh’s trot became rigid until he broke into a canter. I pulled him back to a trot, but he bucked again and broke into another canter. After losing both my stirrups from the buck, I clung to his gray mane as his canter increased to a gallop. I desperately tried to slow him down, but he felt me trying and ducked his head, kicking out his hind legs. Before I knew it, I was flying over his head and landed on the dirt track with a groan.

I got up and brushed the dirt off myself. When I was breathing normally again, I was able to look up and see the groom from earlier holding Shiloh. Sean was running his hands up and down the colt’s legs, feeling for any heat or swelling, and Daniel Caldwell was leaning on the fence, watching me, with that stupid smirk on his face. Something inside me snapped because before I knew it, I was walking over to him.

"Jackass!" I exploded, I felt Sean and the groom turn to stare at me, but I didn’t care. "How dare you put me on a crazy horse like that! Let’s get one thing straight, I will not be made a fool of and I’ll be damned if I let you have the satisfaction."

Daniel leaned in close to me and said, "And you better get something straight, missy, I’m the only one who knows what you did and if I want, I can make all this disappear from your life and you’ll be back in that jail cell. So, suck it up or just walk away."

I glared at him. "You had better stop crossing me because when you mess with me, you mess with fire," I threatened. He didn’t say anything else, instead he turned and walked away. I stared after him until I heard hooves thudding away from the track. I looked behind myself and saw Sean looking at me.

"I’m sorry," I apologized, walking over to him. "I didn’t mean—"

Sean held up a hand, signaling me to stop. He smiled an easy-going smile. "It’s okay, no harm done. I just assumed that Dan told you about the colt. Apparently not. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess not," I muttered and then realized what he had just asked me. Nobody had asked me that question in a very long time. "Yeah, yeah, I’m fine," I answered him. "Is there anything I can do?"

Sean nodded toward the stable area and said, "Go help Toby cool Shiloh out," I thanked him and hurried off in search of the pair. It turns out a six-foot guy with glasses and a gangly, unpredictable two year old colt are very hard to find in this place. The rows of stalls seemed to go on forever until I found them in the last barn. Figures.

Shiloh saw me first and let out a low nicker. Now, he wants to be my friend. At the sound, Toby looked up and saw me. His startling, ice blue eyes glazed over me and I felt a little subconscious under his steady gaze.

"Uh...." I shifted uncomfortably, I hate people staring at me. "Sean told me to help you with Shiloh." Toby pointed to a few brushes nearby and I walked over to them, picked one up, and walked over to the colt’s other side. We worked in silence and I was wondering if I had done something to make him hate me. It’s not like I care what he thinks, but I do like to know who my enemies are. Just as I was about to ask, he spoke up.

"Are you scared?" Toby asked.

I was taken by surprise and a little confused. "What?" I peered at him over Shiloh’s back. He pointed to his head and I moved my hand to my head. I still had my hard hat on. I quickly ducked my head, my cheeks turning scarlet, and I tossed the hat off my head.

"No, um....I..." I looked back over at him and saw that he was holding back a laugh. I gaped at him. "That is so not funny. I really did forget I had it on." But I found myself laughing along with him.

Author:

Shannon’s POV

I sat across from my boyfriend, Derek Hough, on the sofa. It was silent. The only sound was the humming of a vaccum a few doors down. I don’t really blame him for being quiet, I don’t know what to say either. It’s kind of a shock, what I just told him. I fiddled with my hands in my lap, looking down at them. Derek, also, was staring down at the floor. Neither one of us expected this to happen.

Derek took the plunge first. "How far along.... are you?" he asked.

Simple enough question, but you could hear his brain buzzing over this through the question. I could tell he was nervous and a little bit scared. His whole life could possibly be changing forever. "Two months," I told him.

He nodded slightly. Sighing, he looked up at me, "What are you going to do?"

I shrugged my shoulders, glancing up at him. "I guess I’m going to keep it," He still looked a little shocked and tense, "Look, if you’re not ready for this or you don’t want anything to do with it, then it’s okay —"

"No," Derek interrupted. "We’re in this together." He reached over and took my hand, "Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together." I nodded in agreement as he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and a small smile of reassurance. I feel better now (with the exception of the nausea creeping slowly up my throat, but I can ignore it), we can get through this.

A minute later, the moment was broken by a knock at the door.

Chapter One