She’d miss Cassie when she went back to Chicago on Monday.
Maggie and Ed already planned a trip to the Travers’ farm in October to purchase their long awaited broodmares. Midnight Dancer was at the top of her list, if she could still afford the beauty. Given everything the Travers were doing for her and Ed, Maggie wanted to give them all the business she possibly could.
She had readily agreed with Cassie’s suggestion to go directly to the clubhouse rather than standing by in the saddling paddock. Her bundle of jangled nerves would not help Capote’s Dream one bit.
Both kids were off getting food. How could they eat with the race coming up? She warmed remembering Ed wishing all of them good luck before they drove to the track.
“Good luck,” he’d said, before kissing her on the top of the head. “Remember, we can’t win them all.”
She hadn’t missed the moist glaze in his eyes. He badly wanted to be with them for the race. But that wasn’t possible.
Obviously, he was concerned about how she might handle the disappointment of losing. Cassie was confident. Jessica Wilder, who she’d met earlier that morning, was thrilled to have the ride and believed in Capote’s Dream. And Maggie’s own bones were humming with enthusiasm. Still, her nerves were strung out tight, as if she’d been on a caffeine binge.
Maggie watched Johnny climb the concrete steps balancing chips and cheese dip and a large pop. Maggie’s stomach roiled in protest.
Smiling bravely, she welcomed her birthday girl back to her seat. Carolyn clutched a large salty pretzel and a pop. She was so excited by the crowd and by the prospect of seeing one of their own horses race.
“Mom. Take a moment, bend over and take a deep breath or two,” Carolyn counseled. “You don’t want to pass out and miss the race.”
Although not wanting to, Maggie took Carolyn’s advice. It would be totally embarrassing to keel over before her horse ran. Good God, when will this race start? Why is it taking forever? Slow motion was a flash compared to this waiting. She’d never been very good with waiting.
Her nails dug into her bare thighs. Even with the air conditioning going strong, she was pleased she’d finally decided on shorts and a tank top for the day. People came to watch the horses, not her. Any more clothing and she would’ve suffocated.
This was big. This race could make a huge difference for Anderson Racing Stables. It could make saving the farm a pure fanciful wish or a plausible reality.
At last the horses stepped onto the track for the post parade. Fidgeting with her program, Maggie peered closely at the number six horse. Capote’s Dream looked splendid. His coat gleamed, announcing to all to take notice. He looked proud and ready to do battle for honor and glory. The four year old seemed so big compared to the horses they’d been working with on a day-to-day basis at the farm. And there was Jessica Wilder with her game face on decked out in black and red colors—Anderson Racing Stables colors. Scottish colors; her dad would have liked that.
“He’s up on his toes nicely,” Cassie said, scurrying to sit down. “Dream is going to run a big race.”
“I’m sure he’ll do his best,” Maggie managed to murmur. “I just wish it was over. The pit in my stomach is terrible.”
“You’ll get accustomed to it,” Cassie said, chuckling. “Sort of.”
Maggie stared so hard at the starting gate her eyes hurt. At last the gate sprang open and the horses were racing. She was surprised at how quickly Capote’s Dream raced to the front of the pack. Front running horses had won nearly every race that day. Crossing her fingers, she urged her horse on. He entered the backstretch four lengths in front. This was a critical juncture in the race—would he maintain his speed around the turn? Or would the closers pass him by?
Maggie stood and screamed encouragement along with her kids and Cassie. Not able to see around the burly man in front of her, Maggie stood on her seat in time to see the finish.
No one would catch Capote’s Dream this day. He continued to stretch his lead, crossing the finish line six lengths in front of his nearest competitor. Maggie’s ears went temporarily deaf from her children’s screams and her own. She hugged herself and then her kids. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. It most definitely was.
“Hurry,” Cassie shouted. “We have to get to the winner’s circle. Follow me.”
Cassie led them to the winners circle. After their picture was taken with Dream, Carolyn protectively carried the yellow and blue Inaugural Stakes blanket in her arms. Johnny couldn’t stop jumping up and down. And Maggie felt like she could spend a week in bed without ever waking up.
Maggie stopped at a betting window to collect her winnings. Ed had asked her to put a hundred on the horse to win and she’d done likewise with twenty of her own money, which included five dollars for each of the kids. With the horse going off at three to one odds, the payoff was simply an added bonus for the day.
While Cassie led Dream toward the test barn where winners were examined for illegal drug usage, Maggie and her kids headed back to their seats. She even bought drinks and pretzels for herself and her children. “This must be the most weird birthday you’ve ever had, Carolyn.”
“It’s the greatest,” Carolyn squealed. “I just wish Ed could’ve been here, too.”
“Yeah,” Johnny chimed in. “He would’ve cheered louder than anybody.”
“I don’t know about that,” Maggie responded lightly, “but it would have been nice. Maybe someday.”
“Fifteen. And I got to stand in the winner’s circle. Can you believe it?” Carolyn wiped her hands on a napkin and then very carefully brushed the Inaugural Blanket. “You know, when I become a vet, I might specialize in horses.”
“That’s a grand idea,” Maggie said, “but let’s not rush things. You’re already growing up too fast.”
“Mother,” Carolyn scolded, “I want to dream big just like you. Just like Ed. Just like Cassie.”
“I know. I know.” Maggie reached for her daughter’s hands. “We all grow up. Hopefully, we all have dreams to chase. And I dearly hope that you and Johnny will reach for and fulfill your own dreams, whatever they might be.”
Later that evening the celebration of the day’s victory continued in Maggie’s living room. After expenses, Maggie would clear about seventy thousand dollars for the day. Her mind swirled trying to grasp those numbers and their implications. She was used to eking things out over the course of a year from cash crop to cash crop. She might be permanently bruised from the number of times she had pinched herself since the completion of the race. She sobered some, remembering Cassie and Ed’s cautionary words—one race does not make for a competitive stable. But it would do a lot to assure them they could stay afloat until another growing season.
In January, the foaling season would begin. Maggie looked eagerly toward that time. That would be the best yet. She’d helped many sows give birth beginning when she was little, but this would be even more special. Ed had shared the awe of foaling in words, but she wanted to experience it herself. How could any man be so sensitive about horses and kids as well as being a considerate lover, and not imagine himself good enough to be a husband and father?
Maggie smiled at her daughter, who was blushing slightly, apparently searching for words. She was far too rapidly becoming a young woman.
“This has been the best birthday ever,” Carolyn finally said. “Thank you everybody for all the gifts.”
Maggie nodded with satisfaction. It certainly had been a memorable birthday. She’d given Carolyn cute dangling earrings and a silver bracelet. A very stout riding croup came from Cassie, who had leaned over to remind Maggie about the tack shop at Prairie Meadows. Johnny had given his sister a huge book on horse injuries and diseases. He’d confessed that Ed had helped him pick it out. Even Brad had sent a funny card and two videos on training colts. And Ed had probably shocked them all by presenting her with custom made eastern riding boots. They must have cost a small fortune. He insisted that every vet ought to h
ave a pair.
Their house hadn’t witnessed such a celebration for some time. This was the way it ought to be more often. Tonight everyone and everything was mellow. She liked that very much.
The next morning as Cassie prepared to drive back, she exchanged hugs with Maggie and Ed. “Let me know when you’re ready to come up and look for broodmares. You’re staying with us, of course.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Maggie said.
Ed frowned and said, “Let Clint know I’ll be calling him soon. Want to talk with him more about the troubles we’ve been having down here.”
“I’ll do that.” With furrowed brow, Cassie clasped Maggie’s hand. “I do hope your troubles will end now that people know you’re serious about keeping your land.” Winking, she added, “And good luck with the cantankerous one here. His bites are not as bad as his growl.”
They watched Cassie’s pickup pull out of the driveway. Ed muttered, “What the hell did she mean by the cantankerous one?”
“How does she know about your biting skills, is what I want to know.” Maggie teased.
Ed squirmed. “She doesn’t know a damn thing about what she’s saying, and neither do you,” he bellowed, stalking off toward the barn.
Maggie grinned at the man fleeing her tongue. He wouldn’t go far. She trusted that now. Things were on the improve all the way around. And she was very happy.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Look at this!” Johnny shouted, skidding to a halt in the middle of the kitchen.
“Slow down, Johnny,” his mother urged. “Why so excited? I thought going all the way to the road for the paper was a big chore for you.”
“Look, Mom. You’re in the paper. We all are! Front page. Even our picture.”
Maggie grabbed the paper and moved quickly to the table. Carolyn and Ed, who had been working a puzzle in the living room, also rushed in to see what the commotion was about.
Leaning over the table, Maggie gawked at the paper. She read the front page headline aloud: “Local Girl Scores Big at PM.” With awe and pride, Maggie read the sub-title: “With Big City Connections, Anderson Stables Races to Inaugural Stakes Victory.”
“Oh, my God,” Maggie groaned, “if what we were doing here was unknown before last Sunday, it isn’t anymore.”
“Nice picture,” Ed said. “You all look real happy.”
“It was fantastic,” Carolyn responded.
“Yeah, next time you’ll be there, too,” Johnny declared.
Ed blinked and nodded at the boy. “We’ll see, pardner.”
Maggie cleared her throat, and continued reading aloud. “Maggie Anderson, daughter of the late Colt and Marilyn Magee, owner of Anderson Racing Stables, pulled off a major coup in her first entry at Prairie Meadows. Capote’s Dream, a four year old, won the $150,000 Inaugural Stakes running away from the field.
“Turns out, surprising to most folks around here, Anderson has been racing a number of horses in the Chicago area with Cassie Travers, a trainer well known throughout the Midwest. Capote’s Dream was shipped in special for this high stakes race, like so many of his challengers. A purse of $150,000 attracts horse people from all over the country.
“Folks locally are abuzz about their new found heroine and her future plans. Is this a rags to riches story, or what?
“Mrs. Anderson is not without help. Mr. Ed Harrington, a former horse trainer from the Chicago area, is reportedly helping her set up a first-class racing stable and handling her younger horses and broodmares. While Harrington is banned from entering any horse track because of being implicated in a betting scandal in Chicago, his expertise no doubt is providing the foundation for Anderson Racing Stables.
“A graduate of Beaverhill High School, Mrs. Anderson is the mother of two children: Carolyn, 15 and Johnny, 10. Her late husband, Mason Anderson, died tragically of cancer two years ago. Mrs. Anderson has been active in the Crossroads Community Church and in a number of organizations here in town. Sources tell us that her level of participation has fallen off of late, probably due to her working with Mr. Harrington and her horses.”
Maggie slapped the newspaper down on the table. “Her level of participation has fallen off of late. Now is that catty or what? Sounds like Mrs. McPherson. And is working with Mr. Harrington and the horses sexual innuendo?”
“Mom, what’s sexual innuuu…whatever?” Johnny asked.
Maggie blanched at the look of wonder on his face. How could she explain this one? “Ah, that will become clearer as you get older.” Sometimes you just had to duck.
“Great, Mom. Must be pretty bad, or you’d explain it.”
Pulling out a chair to sit, Ed said, “It’s not that it’s so bad, as that someone is trying to diss your mother some. But I expect we can handle it.” Then he grinned at Maggie, “Don’t know whether that was what was meant. But the headline is a mite suggestive: Local Girl Scores Big At PM.”
“Damn, didn’t even notice that one.”
“Mom, you’re slow,” Carolyn chided. “Wow, this is going to be all over school. You’re a celebrity. We’re celebrities.”
“You don’t mind the sexual overtone?”
Carolyn gave her a simpering smile. “Just makes you more glamorous. Since when do Magees and Andersons care about what other people think?” she squared her shoulders.
Maggie didn’t correct her daughter, but there were some Andersons in the area who cared a lot about what others thought. There was no reason, however, to widen the gulf between her in-laws and her children. Mason’s parents wanted to stay involved with their grandchildren, but couldn’t understand why Maggie wasn’t trying to disabuse her daughter of becoming a veterinarian. That was a dirty job for a man and ill suited for a lady. And how could she allow Carolyn to wear four metal studs in her ear? That had to be unhealthy and too provocative. And Johnny, being small for his age, never quite performed in sports as well as his grandparents hoped. Both children had shared their disappointment and the pressure they felt to be perfect like their dad was remembered to be.
She’d loved him, and she knew he was never as perfect as his folks thought. He’d been in her pants from the time they were seniors. She expected his parents would have regarded that behavior as slightly flawed, but would have explained it away easily as Maggie leading their son astray.
That was history. She had the present to deal with. Looking at each individual standing around the table, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Okay. Guess there’s no need to pretend anymore about our plans for the farm. Each of you can talk openly about what we’re doing with the stables. If Con-Ex Farms or whoever wants to get their back up about it, so be it. We’re ready to fight. There is no place to retreat to now.”
“That a girl.” Ed grinned broadly. His pride and his willingness to join the fight were obvious to Maggie.
Resting her head against his chest, Maggie wondered if he was aware of what he was doing. Then their hug was joined by Carolyn and Johnny, laughing and hurrahing. Could life be better than this? It was a family hug. They were prepared to stand by each other.
- o -
Staring out the loft window toward the house in mid October, Ed could only guess at what she was plotting now. Maggie Anderson was full of surprises. Even after pledging not to seduce him again, she constantly made it clear in small ways that she wanted him. It might be the crook of her smile. The gleam in her eyes. The way she arched her body. The sultry voice daring him to react. Or the way the woman embraced life. Seldom was she depressed. He’d never been around anyone so hopeful and determined.
No matter what she said, she hadn’t given up on him—or on them.
That pleased him immensely, and it made him break out in a cold sweat. Her boldness sometimes lit him up like a Christmas tree. Tension snaked across his lower back. He wanted her, pure and simple. He missed her touch, her smell, her taste. Somewhere along the line he was either going to have to leave for good or find a way of being with her, to
tally. Thinking of life without Maggie and her kids made him cringe.
He placed his forehead against the window. The cool glass pane provided welcome relief. A strong wind blew about the brown, red and yellow leaves from oaks, maples and aspens. The seasons were changing. The heat of the summer was finally gone, replaced by cool crisp mornings. It wouldn’t be long until winter would arrive with its brashness.
They were ready for it. Most of the horses would winter all right, with access to one end of the barn or to other outbuildings. He’d just finished constructing stalls for the broodmares. That was a task requiring much care and patience. Those stalls were larger than the average stall and there could be no tiny protruding objects that might hurt a new born foal. Within the next week or two they would go to Chicago to purchase Maggie’s broodmares. He was eager to bring back Midnight Dancer. Every time he thought of that mare, his pulse quickened.
Foaling season would begin in late winter and early spring. He smiled, anticipating the family’s reactions to the arrival of babies. They hadn’t seen anything yet.
Ed pressed his palms against the window. He was weary from running—from Maggie, and from himself.
He broke into a sweat. Why did he have to run? There was no way he could leave these people. They’d become his family, as important to him as breathing. Equally impossible would be staying and watching Maggie with another man. His skin crawled at the thought of anyone else running fingers over her body. He still believed Maggie deserved much better, but he guessed she was too stubborn to change her mind.
Stepping back from the window, Ed grinned, satisfied. If he and Maggie were ever going to be a real couple, then they were going to go about it his way. There would be room for romance. The Harvest Festival was the following Saturday, and he planned on having a date for it. Maggie, what will you do when it’s my turn to pursue?
Heat Wave (Riders Up) Page 20
