Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3)

by Bev Pettersen

  He charged down the shedrow, breaking his own rule about not running in the barn. Assets stared down the aisle, healthy, happy and merely curious about the racket coming from Trish’s old tack room, the sleeping quarters now occupied by Boone’s granddaughter.

  Mark shoved the door open and burst in.

  Jessica teetered on the cot, legs tangled in blankets, her face twisted with revulsion.

  “Mouse!” She gestured at the far corner.

  He jerked to a stop, his breath escaping in a relieved whoosh.

  “Mouse,” he repeated, distracted by the way she jumped on shapely legs, making the bed protest in a cacophony of squeaks. She’d limped earlier, but there was no sign of that now, although her right knee was definitely swollen. His gaze lifted, leg analysis forgotten as bouncing breasts grabbed his attention. Damn, she was built. His irritation faded as he admired the enticing view.

  “Well, can you catch it?” she asked.

  He gave a guilty jerk, jamming his attention back to her face. Her expression was so desperate that his appreciation of her stunning body flipped to concern. Concern he quickly crushed.

  She was an inconvenient presence at a very inconvenient time. After watching her lead Buddy, it was obvious she was useless. He dragged a hand through his hair, hating how Boone had forced him into such an awkward position. A Breeders’ Cup season, and he was forced to baby-sit a newbie. “There are always lots of mice around,” he said, trying to keep the impatience from his voice. “Difficult to control. It’s more important to keep them out of the horses’ feed. Just shake your boots in the morning, and you won’t squash them.”

  “Yuck!” She shuddered, staring at the floor with renewed suspicion. “So they mainly come out at night?”

  “Or when it’s quiet, and they think the room is empty.” He crossed his arms. “Look, Jessica, it’s clear you don’t belong here. Why don’t we call your grandfather and arrange for a drive home? Tomorrow I’ll take you on a tour of the backside, explain how it all works and anything else you want to know.”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m just not used to mice beneath my bed. That’s all.” She clamped her mouth, and the staunch set of her chin surprised him. “I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  Her voice was stubborn but also oddly desperate. Had her grandfather kicked her out? Surely she had better places to go than the backside of Belmont Park. She was staring at him though, and there was no mistaking the plea in those beautiful brown eyes. A deer in the headlights look he simply couldn’t resist.

  He scooped her fancy jeans off the floor and tossed them to her with a resigned sigh. “Get dressed and meet me in my office. We’ll figure out something you can do.”

  He stopped in front of Assets’ stall to check the colt. Two minutes later, Jessica bounded behind him.

  “Quiet. Always move slow. Never scare the horses.” He thought he did a good job hiding his frustration. “This is Ambling Assets. Heard of him?”

  “Don’t think so.” She spoke cautiously, as though it were some kind of test.

  “He’s my big horse.” A definite understatement. The two-year-old had won several Grade 1 races and was an early favorite for the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile.

  “He doesn’t seem that big.” She edged closer. “Buddy is taller.”

  “Big horse is just an expression. Careful, he bites. Your grandfather owns this guy.”

  “Ah.” She dodged the colt’s playful nip. “And you have to please my grandfather?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So I’m kind of your boss.” She gave him such a teasing smile, he grinned back.

  “Guess it just means we’re stuck with one another for a bit,” he said. But his smile lingered as he studied her intelligent face. It shouldn’t be too disastrous to have her around for a week. Boone expected she’d only last a couple days. At least she’d put on a bra, although her breasts still strained against her tight shirt.

  He’d have to review the dress code. It was hard on the guys staring at jiggling breasts all day, and owners’ wives didn’t like it much either. She clearly had a top notch set—

  Something grabbed his hand, and Assets’ teeth pinched his skin. Obviously not only his staff were distracted. His smile flattened, and he wheeled away.

  She followed him into his office, ballsy as an agent, wandering around and checking out his wall pictures while he rummaged through the drawers for her backside pass. He finally found it in the middle drawer behind his cache of peppermints.

  “Here are your credentials,” he said. “You’ll have to stop by the office and have your picture taken. Officially you’re a groom, but I only want you handling Buddy. Dino or I will help with the poultice and wraps. If you have any other questions, ask Maria. Stay out of everyone’s way, and don’t get kicked.”

  “Does this mean I get a raise?” she asked as she clipped the laminated pass on the pocket of her jeans. “Now that I’ve been promoted from hot walker to groom?”

  “A raise?” He lifted an eyebrow. Couldn’t remember any of his staff ever asking for a raise.

  “Well, yes, since I’m taking over Trish’s job. Her job as a groom, I mean,” she added, so quickly he wondered what the hell Maria had said.

  She was breathing fast now, maybe wasn’t quite as cocky as she appeared. And she definitely knew how to stick out her lower lip. It was thicker on the bottom. Pink. Ripe. Jesus.

  He grabbed a rubber bucket and slammed a rectal thermometer on the desk. “Naturally if you want to do a bit more—assume some of Trish’s other duties—that’ll be fine. Maybe I can consider a raise. Ten horses. By the way, Trish always used gloves.”

  She backed up a step, her nose wrinkling as she absorbed the implications of the thermometer, the tail clip, the brown-crusted string. “Actually,” she said, “let’s forget the raise for now. And maybe it’s best if I only groom Buddy.”

  He nodded gravely. “Good call.” But he was smiling as she fled the office, and it was another full minute before he turned his attention back to the Keeneland sale catalogue.

  Chapter Three

  Jessica forced herself from the cocoon of blankets and tried to shake off her bleariness, a definite result of sleep deprivation. Mice had scurried beneath the cot all night, and the prospect of a furry body joining her beneath the covers had been too horrifying to allow any sleep.

  But it was four a.m., and already voices leaked from the aisle. Horses nickered, buckets rattled and a challenging day loomed. She’d already decided that instead of napping later she would find a store and buy some much-needed mousetraps.

  Mark was wrong. There was absolutely no reason to tolerate mice, and she’d never be able to sleep with rodents rustling three feet from her head. At least he’d made her a groom and not a hot walker; she didn’t want to be at the bottom of any organization, no matter how temporary her position.

  She tugged on her jeans, wincing at the stab of pain in her knee. It had ballooned up during the night even though her grandfather’s doctor had drained the fluid only two days earlier. A warm bath always helped, but the rusty showers across the road didn’t have tubs.

  Yawning, she limped into the aisle. The lights were on, but it was black outside and the air crisp. Figures drifted from the shadows, exchanging a series of grunts and terse greetings.

  No one paid her any attention, so she wandered down to Buddy’s stall. It was filthy. So was the horse. Straw clung to his mane and tail, and manure stains streaked his belly.

  “Morning,” Maria called, gesturing at a giant whiteboard. “Better get to work. Buddy is scheduled to go out with the second set.”

  Riders with boots, helmets and safety vests gathered around the board, reading out names and making comments.

  “Boss put me on Jed today. Man, I hate that horse,” someone said.

  Jessica scanned the aisle but didn’t see Mark. It seemed everything happened fast in the morning so she rushed across the road to the bathroom, washed her face and tied her hair in a
ponytail. She cast a longing look at the shower but hurried back.

  Already five horses were saddled and in the aisle where grooms legged riders onto their backs. She checked the board. Except for her, each groom cared for three horses, five exercise riders worked the sets, and five hot walkers cooled out the horses when they returned to the barn. It appeared grooms cleaned the stalls while the horses were ridden. It was also clear she’d been assigned much less than any other worker. She squelched her spike of guilt. At least she was up and working long before the trainer.

  “Hurry up, kid,” Maria said as she brushed past with a loaded wheelbarrow. “Tie Buddy to the wall and get him ready. Boss will have your skinny ass if you mess up his schedule.”

  “He’s not here yet,” Jessica said as she picked up Buddy’s grooming kit.

  “Of course he’s here,” Maria said. “He’s checking the track.”

  Damn. Mark was here, and her horse was the dirtiest one in the barn. Jessica rushed into the stall and rubbed furiously at Buddy’s manure stains, even using some of her herbal hair conditioner to tame his knotted tail. Buddy stood obligingly, flicking his ears as though mystified by her panic. The gelding’s serenity amused her. According to Maria, grooms were supposed to calm the horses, not the other way around.

  “You’re a good boy, Buddy,” she whispered. He pressed his velvety muzzle into her hand, tickling her fingers with his whiskers. He needed a shave, she decided, remembering that Assets’ ears and muzzle had been neatly trimmed. Obviously ‘big horses’ received special attention, and she frowned with a mother’s indignation. Assets was a cocky brat who pushed and nipped, while Buddy was a sweet, undemanding horse who only wanted to please.

  She rushed to the tack room, resolving to be the best groom Buddy ever had. Besides, it would be good experience for her dog business.

  Buddy’s tack, soft, clean and freshly oiled, hung beneath his nameplate. The saddle was tiny, and she carried it gingerly down the aisle, amazed riders would dare gallop in something so flimsy.

  “Make sure it’s tight,” Maria warned. “A slipping saddle can kill.”

  “Could you check it for me?” Jessica asked, trying to keep the alarm from her voice. “Just to make sure? It’s been a while since…well, since I saddled a racehorse.”

  “I’ll check it.” Mark’s deep voice sounded behind her.

  Relieved, she glanced over her shoulder to where he sat on a muscular gray horse. She’d known skiers who were hurt because of poorly adjusted equipment, and she didn’t want to be responsible for any wrecks.

  Mark stepped off his horse and passed the reins to Maria. “Good grooming job,” he said as he entered the stall. “I noticed Buddy was dirty this morning.”

  She flushed with pleasure, suddenly glad she hadn’t wasted time with a shower.

  “Saddle pad needs to be shoved above the withers. Girth tightened another two holes.” He adjusted the tack with expert hands. “Buddy doesn’t need wraps but when he comes back, check his legs. He’s your responsibility. You can walk over to the gap now and watch him work.”

  She nodded, deciding she’d ask someone else what and where the gap was. She didn’t want to risk shattering Mark’s patience. Besides, his virile presence seemed to suck away all her oxygen. He was standing so close she could feel his heat, smell a whiff of aftershave, something nice and piney and…appealing.

  He strode from the stall, remounted his patient gray, and the second set of horses followed him from the shedrow.

  “Quit daydreaming and get Buddy in the aisle,” the last exercise rider called, impatiently snapping his whip against his boot.

  “May I follow you to the gap?” she whispered as she boosted him into the saddle, copying the method the other grooms used.

  The rider, a young man called Slim, was amazingly light with muscle-corded arms, and he laughed once he was on Buddy’s back. “Just follow any horse, greenie. We’re all going to the gap.”

  He spoke much too loud, and she winced as Mark’s amused chuckle drifted down the aisle.

  She trailed the string of horses past endless rows of barns but didn’t gawk around, too fascinated by the animals’ sheer beauty. All the horses looked majestic, even mysterious as they walked through the mist, but Buddy looked much the best. The rising sun painted a glint on his coat, and every strand of his thick tail gleamed. He glanced back twice, as though checking if she were following, but that could have been her imagination. Mark definitely didn’t look back.

  Clearly her boss was well-respected; people called out greetings as he led his line of horses. The amiable joshing reminded her of ski events. Odd, she hadn’t thought about skiing in almost twenty-four hours. Hadn’t thought about Anton and Cindy’s engagement. Horse work was certainly a consuming affair.

  The eager horses outstripped her awkward walk, and she had no idea how much further the gap was. When a golf cart slowed and offered a lift, she accepted with a grateful smile.

  “Heading to the gap?” the silver-haired driver asked.

  “Sure am,” she said. “Going to watch my horse work.”

  She was quite certain she had the lingo right but noticed his gaze flickered over her credentials. He didn’t speak again, only whipped the golf cart up to the rail just as Buddy walked onto the track. Mark twisted in the saddle, one hand on his horse’s rump, face expressionless as she stepped from the cart.

  She gave him a breezy smile before leaning over the rail to concentrate on the five horses from her barn. Her barn. The notion filled her with a heady sense of belonging. Not one day, and already she was bursting with information. The gap was self-explanatory and merely an opening in the rail where the horses walked from the backside onto the track.

  Every horse on the property seemed to be exercising. Some riders were standing, some trotting, others galloping. They looked like monkeys hunched over the horses’ necks; it was rather incredible they didn’t tumble into the dirt.

  For a moment she lost sight of Buddy, but suddenly he was visible again, trotting toward her through the thinning mist, his breath mingling with the primal thud of hooves. It was sheer magic. She gripped the rail, drinking in the sights, the sounds, the smell, savoring the moment like a snapshot.

  Buddy trotted past and when Slim nodded a greeting, she puffed up, feeling like she’d just received the secret handshake. Her gaze slid back to Mark. He was watching his five horses, although with all the traffic it was probably hard to keep a visual. On the mountain, skiers wore bright jackets and helmets but at the track, most of the horses looked identical. Mark’s brown saddle pads were simply too nondescript to stand out.

  She crossed her arms. Tomorrow she’d braid bright ribbons along Buddy’s mane so he’d be easier to spot.

  Mark stiffened and abruptly galloped off, without any obvious signal to his aggressive horse. He pulled alongside Buddy. The two riders spoke for a moment before turning and heading toward the gap. Slim grinned, Buddy looked frustrated and Mark looked pissed.

  “Did you bring a shank, Jessica?”

  She wheeled at Dino’s abrupt question and shook her head. Dino stood five feet to her left, a stopwatch and clipboard in one hand and wearing a serious expression instead of his usual grin.

  “You should always have a shank, towel and hoof pick,” he added, “and judging from Mark’s face you’re going to need it.”

  “I didn’t know,” she sputtered. “He told me to go the gap. He didn’t say pack a bag.”

  “He shouldn’t have to,” Dino said as he jotted something on his clipboard.

  Jessica sighed. Mark did look annoyed—rather unfortunate as the morning had been going so well. The nice man in the golf cart had a tangle of equipment in his basket; maybe he had an extra shank. She walked up to him, flashing her most charming smile.

  “Do you have a lead shank I could borrow?” she asked. “I seem to have misplaced mine, maybe dropped it when I was getting into your cart.”

  He lowered his binoculars in surprise.
“A shank? Yeah, sure. Just return it to barn thirty-nine.”

  She accepted it with grateful thanks and was back at the gap by the time Mark arrived with Buddy.

  “Did this horse have all his shoes when you cleaned his feet?” Mark asked.

  Her hands tightened around the leather line. She hadn’t cleaned Buddy’s feet. But now she remembered her camp lessons and how important it was—the most important part of grooming. She studiously linked the chain through Buddy’s bit, the way other grooms had done with their horses, and managed to avoid Mark’s hard stare.

  “The shoes were good and tight this morning,” she said.

  “He probably lost the shoe on the walk over,” Slim said quickly. “I felt him take a funny step.”

  Mark blew out a sigh. “Take Buddy back and walk the shedrow. He’s hopping out of his skin.” But he gave Jessica a long look before trotting off.

  “You owe me one, greenie. But it works for me.” Slim shrugged off her grateful smile. “Stop this old guy so I can grab a coffee before the next set. I’m a little hung over today.” He gave Buddy a quick pat before swinging to the ground and hurrying off.

  “I’m sorry, fellow,” she whispered as she led Buddy away. “I’m just learning how to take care of you.”

  Her arms and knee throbbed by the time she wrestled Buddy back to the barn. The gelding had been primed to run and was unwilling to accept the day was over. Several times he balked as though positive they were going the wrong way, and she was relieved to see one of Mark’s hot walkers, a rather large woman, returning a cooled-out horse to a waiting groom.

  “This guy is supposed to walk the shedrow,” Jessica said, reaching out to pass her Buddy’s lead.

  “Well, I’m not doing it.” The woman raised a hammy elbow and barged past. “I’m already walking an extra horse this week because somebody can only handle Buddy.”

  “Well, somebody’s cranky,” Jessica said under her breath, feeling a tad cranky herself. After all, she’d risen at four with no shower, no coffee, no breakfast.