That Summer

by Joan Wolf

  “No, it isn't. But we had a great time. Wasn't Buster fabulous?”

  “That he was. I bet a hundred on him and raked in a bundle.”

  “Great.”

  “It's hard to believe that Wellington Farm has a horse vying for the Triple Crown.”

  “I know. But Buster doesn't belong to the farm, Kevin. He belongs to Liam.”

  He frowned. “How is that? I thought Uncle Lawrence owned all of the horses here.”

  “He owns most of them, but Liam bought a few of his own mares and he pays board for them here at the farm. Buster is the son of one of Liam's mares.”

  “Wow. How lucky is that.”

  “Yes.”

  We talked for a little longer and then he got up to go.

  “Remember what you promised,” I said.

  “I remember, but you know what, Anne? I'm beginning to think that old Liam did it.”

  “How can you say that?” I cried passionately.

  “I can say it because I don't see him through the same starry eyes that you do. He's far from perfect, you know.”

  “I know he's not perfect, but I also know he's not a killer.”

  “Then whose bloody medal is it?”

  “I don't know!”

  “I'll protect him for now, because he's my cousin, but I'm not risking my own reputation for him, Anne.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But for now you'll go along with us?”

  “If I can do it without an outright lie.”

  “You're clever, Kevin. You can manage that.”

  “We'll see,” he said grimly.

  He left and I sat back down at the table. My hands were shaking. Please, dear Mary, I prayed. Don't let your medal become a trap for Liam. Help us to find a way out of this.

  After awhile I got up and began to put the dishes in the dishwasher. Then I went out to the track to work with the horses.

  It started to rain as we were completing our work at the track and when we finished with the horses, Jacko and I went to stand inside the barn to talk.

  We were still standing there, evaluating each youngster's progress, when Liam pulled up in the farm's oldest truck. He got out and walked through the rain to join us. My heart leaped in my chest as I watched him come.

  Jacko said, “Anne and I are impressed with the Magus filly. She's very intelligent, very calm. And she can run.”

  Liam said, “She's going to have to go to auction, Jacko. They're all going to go to auction. Dad just told me that he has to liquidate all his assets.”

  “Oh Liam, no,” I cried.

  “Yes.” He looked bleak. “Our only keepers will be Pennyroyal, My Holiday and Crescent Moon—my mares.”

  “He's selling all the mares?” Jacko said in horror.

  “And the stallions too.”

  “Not Thunderhead?”

  “Yes, Thunderhead too.”

  Jacko cursed under his breath. “Why would he do such a thing?”

  “He needs the money, Jacko. He's in debt and he has to pay it off.”

  Jacko looked at me. “I'm almost glad your father isn't here to see this.”

  I nodded. My heart was aching for Liam. He had spent so much time figuring out the right bloodlines for each of his horses; so many happy hours comparing the virtues of one horse as a mate versus another. All of the babies were the products of his careful matchmaking. And the mares! He loved his mares. And Thunderhead, who he had bred himself and now was the sire of a potential Triple Crown Winner. Liam was a hands-on professional, one who was there in the barns every day to form an attachment to the animals. He was emotionally invested in his horses and the loss of them would break his heart.

  I said, “If Buster wins the Belmont, you'll have the money to buy some of them back. The sale isn't until July.”

  The bleak look never left his face. “That's a big ‘if’, Annie.”

  “I suppose you'll be letting all the help go?” Jacko asked.

  I looked at his grizzled head. Where was Jacko going to get a job to equal this one?

  Liam said, “You'll have a job as long as I have horses, Jacko. If Wellington shuts down completely, I'll be starting my own barn.”

  The relief on Jacko's face was evident. “That's good to know, Liam. Thank you.”

  Liam looked at me. “Come for a ride with me, Annie?”

  “Sure.”

  We dashed through the rain to the truck. We both climbed in and Liam drove off. Neither of us spoke. Then I said, “I'm so sorry, Liam. This is a terrible blow.”

  “Yes. It is.” He continued to drive. The windshield wipers were working hard; the rain had started to come down fast.

  “Are we going anywhere?” I asked.

  “No. I just wanted to get you to myself. I'll park by the broodmare pasture.”

  He parked the truck facing the pasture and we looked at the mares and their foals huddled under the run-in shelter that protected them from the rain and the sun. He said in a choked voice, “I can't believe all this is going.”

  “I can't either.”

  We sat together inside the cab of the truck with the rain pouring down outside. “You were afraid this was going to happen,” I said.

  “I knew there was a problem, but deep down, I never thought it would come to this. To sell all my horses! When Dad said that, it was like a dagger went into my heart.”

  “Oh, Liam.” Tears welled up in my eyes. “I am so sorry, so very very sorry.”

  “Annie.” He turned to me and held out his arms. I slid across the seat and put my own arms around him as his closed around me hard. “I feel like I'm in a nightmare,” he said.

  My arms were around him, my whole body pressed against his. “Is it a done deal or only a possibility?”

  “It's a done deal.” His voice sounded muffled because his mouth was pressed against my hair. “He has to have the money. He borrowed money to put into the stock market and now he has to pay it back.”

  “Is he going to keep the property?”

  “He doesn't know yet.”

  I almost reminded him of his idea of starting anew in Kentucky, but I caught my words back. There would be time to think of the future. Right now he was grieving too hard for what he had lost.

  I wondered if the police had come out and shown him the medal.

  He said, “I had to see you. You're the only one who understands how I feel about this.”

  “My heart is broken for you, Liam. But you'll get some of the horses back. I know you will.”

  “What if Buster doesn't win the Belmont?”

  “You'll do what everybody else does, take out a loan.”

  He said huskily, “You must think I'm acting like a baby about this.” His arms never loosened their hold.

  “Of course I don't. I think you're devastated, and you should be devastated. Everything you've worked for for so many years is crumbling around you.”

  My face was pressed against his chest and I could hear his heart beating under my cheek. It was as if we were alone in the world, with the rain making a drumming sound on the roof and windshield of the truck.

  He gave a great shuddering sigh and I pulled away a little to look up at him. For a moment he looked back, then his mouth was coming down on mine.

  I closed my eyes and let him kiss me, a long, sweet, gentle kiss. “Annie,” he said softly. “I'm glad you're here.”

  “I am too.”

  He kissed my cheeks and my forehead and then he came back to my mouth. I was so afraid of scaring him away by showing my neediness that I didn't kiss him back at all. I just received his kiss, as sweetly and gently as he gave it.

  He raised his head and cuddled me close. I rested my head against his shoulder. I said, “Liam, did the police contact you about the medal?”

  “Not yet. But I left the house right after Dad told me the news.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I went for a walk. Then, when I couldn't stand my own company any longer, I came looking for you.”
r />   “I saw Kevin this morning,” I said.

  “Oh? Did he ask you for a date?”

  “No. But I got him to promise not to say anything about you once wearing a miraculous medal.”

  I could feel him stiffen. “You got Kevin to lie for me?”

  “He's not going to lie. He's going to … evade … the issue.”

  “And how the hell is he going to do that?”

  “I don't know. Kevin is clever. He'll think of something.”

  “Is he doing this for your sake?”

  “No. He said he would do it because you were his cousin.”

  Liam snorted.

  “He did say that, Liam. Honestly.”

  “Oh the hell with the medal,” he said angrily. “I'm losing my farm.”

  I reached my hand up and smoothed his hair off his forehead. “If you want to cry, go ahead,” I said. “I won't tell anyone.”

  “I'm not going to cry,” he said gruffly.

  “You'll be able to buy some of the mares back,” I said. “You aren't going to lose them all.”

  “What about Thunderhead?”

  “What if you ask your father not to sell Thunder-head?”

  “He was quite clear; he had to sell them all.”

  “He might be too expensive, then. You'll have Buster to stand at stud. You might have to wait until you can get another stallion.”

  “It's just that… this place is part of me, Annie. It's been my home for all my life. It was home to all of my ancestors. It just stinks that Dad has thrown it away like this.”

  “I know, Liam. I know.”

  Outside the rain continued to pour down. After a moment he put his hands on the steering wheel. “I'll take you back to your car.”

  “Okay.”

  “I was thinking of flying up to New York to see Buster. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I'd love to. When were you going?”

  “Let's go tomorrow.”

  “Terrific.”

  I ran from the truck to my car and, when I got in, I waited while I watched Liam drive off in the rain. Then I turned the key in the ignition and drove myself home.

  CHAPTER 21

  We flew out of Dulles the following morning and landed at Kennedy in New York right on time. Liam rented a car at the airport and we drove the few miles to Elmont, where Belmont Racetrack is located.

  We checked into a local Holiday Inn then went to the track to see Buster.

  He was napping, stretched out on his side with his four legs sticking out in front of him.

  Liam said with amusement, “He's really feeling the pressure, isn't he?”

  I said, “It's great that he's sleeping like that. Sleep is a great restorative.”

  Henry, Buster's groom, appeared at the end of the shedrow. “It's just us, Henry, no need to take alarm,” Liam said. “We flew up to get a look at the boy.”

  “Hello, Mr. Wellington.” He smiled at me, clearly not remembering my name. “He's been doing great, sir. Mr. Ford is real happy with him.”

  “That's good,” Liam said.

  “He certainly looks comfortable,” I commented.

  “He's a great napper,” Henry said. “Even when there's a crowd of newsmen around the stall, he'll still sleep.”

  “Have there been a lot of reporters?”

  “They're all over the lot,” Henry said. “Mr. Ford has been galloping Red at five in the morning, just to get away from them.” He looked beyond us. “Here comes one of them now.”

  Liam and I stood there as a tall, thin man in a wind-breaker came up to us and introduced himself as John Kerrigan from the Daily News. “You must be excited to have a shot at the Triple Crown,” he said to Liam.

  Liam said, “We're very excited. And it's nice that he's likely to go off as the favorite. He was getting to feel like a stepchild.”

  Kerrigan looked into the stall. “Yeah, he really looks upset.”

  Liam almost smiled.

  “So you like your chances?” Kerrigan said.

  I said, “Our chances are very good—especially if I wear my lucky hat and suit.”

  The reporter looked interested, so I explained about my pink suit and Kentucky Derby hat. “My only fear is that Liam is going to make me wear it every time one of his horses runs,” I concluded.

  “Hey, that's an idea,” Liam said.

  “Now you're a veterinarian, is that right Dr. Foster?” Kerrigan inquired.

  “That's right.”

  “Do you take care of Someday Soon?”

  “No, I have a practice in Maryland. But my dad used to break all of Wellington's horses and I grew up on the farm. Liam and I have known each other since we were children.”

  “Did your father break Someday Soon?”

  “He certainly did.”

  “He must be excited about all of this.”

  I didn't answer and Liam said, “Pete passed away just before the Derby was run. But I think we both feel that he is with us.”

  I nodded.

  The reporter said, “Have you heard that a horse is being flown in from Ireland to run in the Belmont?”

  “No,” Liam said. “I hadn't heard. Who's the owner?”

  “Coolmore.”

  “Wouldn't you know it. What do you know about him?”

  “He ran one or two big races in Europe and they think he can last the mile and a half.”

  Liam asked, “Is he a front runner or a come from be-hinder?”

  “He's like Someday Soon. He comes from behind.”

  “Well, all we can do is run our race. If we do, I think we'll come out on top.”

  “What do you think is the single most important thing in this race, Mr. Wellington?”

  Liam replied without hesitation, “The jockeys. On this long of a race, the jockey is all-important. Only he can judge the pace; only he can know when it's time to make the right move. The trainer can only get the horse ready. Once he turns him over to the jockey, it's all his responsibility.”

  Kerrigan asked, “Do you think having a Triple Crown winner will help the sport?”

  “I think it would be wonderful for racing,” Liam said. “It's one of the most difficult feats in all of sports. For example, the British Triple Crown spans five months, not five weeks. It's why it's been decades since the last winner. I hope Someday Soon will break that drought.”

  There was the sound of rustling inside the stall and then Someday Soon's head appeared over the front door. “Buster,” Liam said. “Hey there, boy. How are you doing?”

  Someday Soon allowed his face to be rubbed.

  “Buster?” Kerrigan said.

  “That's his farm nickname. He's had it since he was just a little guy.”

  We talked for another few minutes and then Liam said to me, “Want to take a walk around and see some of the other horses?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  We said goodbye to Mr. Kerrigan and walked off in the direction of D Wayne Lukas's barn. Liam said, “That was smart, telling him the story about the hat and suit. The press gobbles up things like that.”

  “I thought it was kind of a cute story. Plus it will explain to anyone who might have noticed that I do have other clothes.”

  We walked around the barns, admiring the horses, then we returned to Someday Soon, where we found John Ford. “Oh, there you are,” he said. “Henry told me you were here.”

  “We just flew up for the day,” Liam said. “I had this yen to see my boy.”

  “He seems to be fine,” John said. “I don't get any sense that he's tired. I haven't been pushing the speed at all; we're just galloping and galloping. And at the end he's still pulling to go.”

  “That sounds great,” I said.

  Liam said. “I heard that the Irish are sending a horse.”

  John replied, “They are. Solomon's Riddle is his name. I understand he's raced and won at a mile and a half in Ireland.”

  “So they know he can do the distance.”

  “Yes. He
might be our best challenge. The rest of the horses we've already seen and beaten—except for Star Beta, and I don't think we have to worry about him.”

  “What else do you know about this Irish horse? Is he here?”

  “No, he's not here yet. They're flying him over at the end of the week. That's all I can tell you. Nobody knows much about him.”

  Liam said, “They must think he has a good chance of winning or they wouldn't send him.”

  “That's so.”

  I said, “We took a look at Point Taken and Honor Bright today. They're beautiful-looking animals.”

  John said, “They're both good horses. But Someday Soon is better.”

  We all turned to look at Buster. “Not only are you faster than those other horses, but you're more beautiful,” I told him.

  He pricked his ears as if he agreed with me.

  John said, “He's a terrible ham. Every time he sees a camera he poses.”

  Liam laughed. “Does he really?”

  “He does. He lifts his head as if he's looking off into a long distance and holds the pose until the camera is lowered.”

  I said, “He knows he's special. That's good.”

  “The TV people are going to film a segment on him this afternoon to be aired on the day of the race. Stick around and you can be in it.”

  “Buster's going to star in a TV spot?” I said. “If he likes the still shots he should really hog up the TV camera.”

  We stayed around the barn for the rest of the afternoon. The TV people did film Liam, “the man who bred and owns Someday Soon,” and they talked strategy with John. When they asked him what his instructions to his jockey would be, he replied, “Just keep him within striking range, then let him run.”

  We got back to our hotel at six-thirty, changed and went out to dinner at a local steakhouse.

  “This was a nice break,” I said as we sat down with our salads. “I'm glad we came.”

  “So am I. I wish I knew more about this Irish colt, though.”

  “You heard what John said. It doesn't matter who else is running, Buster just has to run his own race. Which I'm sure he'll do.”

  “God, I hope so. That Triple Crown bonus means an awful lot right now.”

  What will you do if Buster loses? I thought the words but didn't say them. We'll deal with that when the time comes, I thought. Right now Liam has more than enough on his plate.