“Right. The races will start in another two hours. A quick barn tour will have to do.” She gave him a quirky smile. “Soon we have to get you a hat or you’ll be fried.”
Nick smiled and reached for her hand. “Good idea. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch. They must have a gift shop over there somewhere. We can do the barn tour later.”
Jerking her hand out of his, Daisy cried, “Wait! I’ve got responsibilities here. I can’t just run off. I’ve got to tell Sam what’s up. If he’s not around, then I’ll leave a message with a groom. Besides, you should meet Sam.”
“Not yet. Nope, the deal is with you, not with Sam. You do what you have to do and I’ll wait for you here in the shade.”
The lanky woman scurried down the length of the barn and around a corner. Even flustered, she moved with an unpretentious grace. She had to stand nearly six feet; he was six foot two and he didn’t have to look down at her at all. She was a lot of woman. He didn’t consider himself a betting man, but he’d bet a ton of money that Daisy Matthews could be quite convincing. So what kind of future did he have in horseracing?
- o -
Leaning against the barn for much needed support, Daisy pressed her throbbing temples. What in the hell had she gotten into now? Deal. Bullshit. The man already planned to sell Rainbow; he just enjoyed torturing women.
What choice did she have? She’d do most anything to stay with Rainbow. They’d been together since she moved out of the group home to live with Cassie and Clint Travers. Taking a kid from the inner city of Chicago to a quiet horse farm in McHenry County had been quite a reach. But it had worked. From that moment on, horses had become her lifeblood. And RainbowBlaze stood above all others.
Rainbow was the first foal she’d helped birth.
Now she had to deal with Nicholas Underwood. What a pretentious name! She’d wanted to rip his glasses off and stomp on them. But she hadn’t. Cassie would say that she was learning to live within herself, within her emotions. Sounded like just so much social work bullshit. But Cassie had been a good social worker when she worked at the group home, and she was now one of the best horse trainers in the Chicago area. And Daisy owed her a lot—even her life.
No, she could handle the Nicholas Underwoods of the world. She’d seen a lot worse. She’d survived a lot worse.
- o -
Daisy couldn’t stop grinning at Underwood, who was stuffing half a hotdog overflowing with mustard and relish into his mouth. Mustard oozed out across his lips. His tongue flicked out to retrieve the yellow goo. He might be wealthy, but he certainly didn’t act like how she thought rich folks behaved. At this moment he seemed more like a kid than she did.
“Haven’t you ever seen a man eat a hotdog before?” he growled at her.
Daisy glanced down at her food and laughed. “I never paid that much attention, but you do put on quite a show.”
“One of my mottos is that life ought to be enjoyed. I don’t eat just to survive; I eat to have pleasure.”
“The Buddhists claim that you ought to take time and enjoy each bite of food.” Reaching for a second hotdog, Nick muttered, “To each his own.”
Daisy picked up a potato chip. “Maybe it’s the hat. It makes you look younger.”
Nick pulled on the brim of the long billed Arlington Park cap. “Well, in that case, it was the best purchase of the day.” His eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t want you to start calling me Gramps.
Daisy ignored his humor and began explaining how to read the racing program. Later, on their way to the stands, she’d stop at the windows and show him how to place bets.
Underwood was a good listener. He seemed quite interested in horseracing. That was good; that increased the chances of holding on to RainbowBlaze.
“So how do you know so much about Buddhists?”
“What?” Hadn’t he been listening at all?
“You said the Buddhists think you should take time to enjoy each bite. Are you Buddhist?”
“No. I read a lot.”
“On religion?”
She heard the incredulity in his voice. “Among other things. Shakespeare. Chaucer. Wolfe. Twain. Contemporary romance. Westerns. And, of course, anything to do with horses and horseracing. I like to read.”
“Sounds like an English major.”
Daisy blinked. “I’m majoring in English, at U.I.C.”
She smiled at Underwood’s raised eyebrows. Why did she enjoy surprising him so much?
“You go to college and work here full-time?”
Daisy sipped her Coke. Did he think she was just a kid off the street? “The track is full-time. I try to take a course a semester. In the winter, I can squeeze in a little more, since things are slower at the track.”
“So what do you plan to do with your degree?”
“Do I have to do something with it?” She handed him a napkin. “You missed some.”
“Where?”
“There.” She pointed to the right corner of his mouth. He wiped the left corner. “No,” she said, grimacing. She picked up a second napkin and leaned across the table to wipe off the remaining mustard. He gave her a wicked grin and a laugh bubbled from his lips.
“You! You knew what I meant all along. Why do you enjoy teasing me so?”
“Because you react so spontaneously.”
She gave him her best pout.
“Seriously, what do you expect to do with your degree?”
“Train horses. What else? I like to read. Cassie told me college wouldn’t hurt if I never did anything particular with the degree, or even if I never finished.”
“That’s twice you mentioned this Cassie person. Sounds pretty important to you.”
“You bet.” Daisy dropped her gaze momentarily. “I lived with her and her family for a few years. And she taught me just about everything I know about horses.”
“Sounds like she taught you a few things about life, too.”
Daisy nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Maybe I’ll meet her, if I hang around the track or around you long enough.”
What would Cassie Travers make of the man under the long billed cap? Be careful, Daisy, girl she’d say.
“My mother would agree with you and Cassie, by the way.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t listen too great, Matthews,” Nick responded, draining his second cup of coffee. “I said my mother would agree with you. She’s an English professor at the University of Minnesota.”
“Really?”
Nick nodded. “She thinks people ought to read the classics and contemporary stuff and just about anything written in order to be well rounded.”
Daisy glanced at her watch and then started clearing the table. “We better go. It’s a half hour till post time. I hope you’ll like the races.”
“What I’ve seen of the track so far is impressive. Very clean. Staff seems welcoming and professional. And there’s a pulse about the place that’s appealing. Lead on, fair lady, and your eager protégé shall follow.”
- o -
“So in this first race, which horse do you like best? I rather like the sound of MoonofGold.” Nicholas sat next to Daisy in the Arlington Park grandstands.
She gave him a shocked look. He looked completely serious. She giggled. The man knew absolutely nothing about horses or horseracing. She hadn’t been able to show him the barn area—that would have to wait for another day. She hoped there’d be another day. He couldn’t sell RainbowBlaze—she wouldn’t let him.
“I don’t think he has much of a chance. He hasn’t won a race in three years,” she said, pointing to the Daily Racing Form spread across her lap. “He’s only cheap speed. He’ll run flat out for about four furlongs and then start going backward.”
“How do you know all of that?”
“By going over this information on the horses’ past performances. There’s not enough time to teach you now, but trust me, if you want to be successful at the track over the long haul, you’ll have to ar
m yourself with a lot of data, wade through it, and then make your best judgment.”
He leaned over to get a closer look. Goosebumps. Daisy cocked her head at the man. She didn’t get goosebumps—unless it was in the winner’s circle, or maybe very early when the sun was rising over the track. She did not get goosebumps because of a man, and particularly an older man. Although he did look younger as the afternoon wore on. Must be the hat.
Nick shook his head. “You’re right, there’s not enough time. But I definitely want to learn, if I decide to stay in this game.” He stared blankly at Daisy. “Who has the best chance in your judgment?”
“MisterJames is the six to five favorite and on paper looks like the horse to beat.”
“But you don’t think he’ll win.”
“Nope. He’s a speed horse, and there are three other speed horses who’ll be battling for the lead. I think the winner will be a patient horse who can come from behind—like the ten horse, BreezySurprise. I also saw the favorite during his last workout. He ran too fast. The exercise rider couldn’t control him. I don’t think he saved enough for the race.”
“You’re talking in a language I don’t fully understand, but I’m getting the gist of it. So what would you bet?”
“If I give you the winner, it’s only right to split the winnings,” she kidded, wrinkling up her nose. “I’d put two on the ten to win. He’s eight to one, so he’ll give you a nice return, if he wins.”
“You’re not certain?”
“Of course not. This is horseracing.”
“Okay. Sounds like the stock market, but what the hell. I’ll go make the wager.”
- o -
Daisy tried not to stare at Underwood. The man must have an iron stomach; he had returned with a salty pretzel and a box of popcorn. “You must really like junk food.”
“Not my typical fare,” he responded, offering her some popcorn. “But I like to pig out now and then, particularly when I’m nervous. I’ll work it off tomorrow.”
She didn’t doubt that. She hadn’t seen any spare fat on the guy. “They’re entering the gate,” she said, pointing across the infield.
The starting bell clanged and the race was off. Daisy kept one eye on the horses and the other on her enthralled student. The muscles in his neck tightened and his eyes narrowed. He stood when everyone else stood to get a better view of the horses coming down the homestretch. Unlike most fans, he said nothing. His mouth fell open when the number ten horse swept past the favorite in the final sixteenth to win easily. At least he wasn’t going to be one of those gushy fans who screamed at their favorite horse when he got stuck in the middle of the pack. Daisy liked that.
He turned and caught her up in a bear hug; his lips brushed her cheek. Before she had a chance to pound his shoulder she was back on her feet. His grin split his face in two.
“That was spectacular,” he hollered, leaving his arm around her shoulders. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Such power. Determination. Guts. My God, why didn’t somebody tell me about this before?”
She watched Underwood nod at the horse standing in the winners circle as if he were acknowledging a champion. What did the man really see in the horse?
Certainly, more than the casual fan. Whatever, she was thrilled, and it didn’t even bother her that he hadn’t let her go.
“And you,” he said, staring at her with bright shining eyes, “you’re a guru. You had that race pegged.”
Flushed by his admiration, Daisy countered, “Just don’t count on that happening. We lose more often than we win.”
“Yeah, but what a thrill it is to win. I couldn’t believe how that horse was straining to get ahead. So do I collect our winnings now?”
“Sure. I don’t see another worthwhile bet until the fifth race. I’ll handicap that one while you’re gone.”
- o -
Daisy glanced up from the Form when Nick returned. He sat down looking quite pleased with himself. Once she’d finished her handicapping, she set the papers down and sipped her drink. She leaned back and swept her eyes across the tote board, the pond, and the horses coming onto the track.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was about as good as it got. She didn’t spend enough time sitting in the stands and appreciating the races. Usually, there wasn’t enough opportunity.
Clearly, Underwood was enjoying his first day at the races. The odds of keeping RainbowBlaze had rocketed. Daisy’s skin warmed.
“Oh,” Underwood said, reaching into his pocket. “I forgot. Your share of the winnings.”
Daisy held out her palm and he placed in it a stack of bills. Her mouth went dry. Her eyebrows narrowed. “What’s this?” she managed to say.
“There you go, kid. Not listening again. I said it’s your share of the winnings. You said two hundred on the ten to win. I thought that was a little light. So I put four hundred on him to win. There should be a little less than two thousand there. Not bad, I’d say.”
“I can’t take this,” Daisy stammered, shrinking into the chair. “I meant two dollars, not two hundred. Good grief! I’d never bet two hundred dollars on a horse.”
She shoved the money toward him. He closed her fingers over the bills and pushed her hand back on her lap. “It’s yours, fair and square. You said yourself that if the horse wins we split the winnings.”
“But I meant a two dollar bet,” she squeaked.
“So, I misunderstood.” He squinted and thinned his lips. “Of course, you wouldn’t want to make me feel too stupid and utterly terrible about this whole horseracing thing.”
Daisy shook her head. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled.
She didn’t resist when Nick grabbed her by the hand and helped her up the stairs to an inner lobby. Leaning against a cool marble wall, she slid to the floor. She held her head between her knees while he rubbed her taut neck muscles.
Two thousand dollars. She’d never held that much money in her hand. At least her stomach was settling some. It must have been a bad hotdog. She was about ready to float. She tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t. It was his fingers. What were they doing to her neck? To her body? Good grief, what was happening to her?
“Why don’t we get you outside,” he said. His words were soothing, like a cool cloth on a hot forehead. “Maybe back to the barn. Do you think you can stand?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to form a single word. He held her firmly as they made their way back toward shedrow. By the time they got halfway there, she could breathe again.
“Sorry about that back there,” she said, gruffly. “I’m not the swooning type.”
Nick leaned back and laughed. “I never thought you were, kid. Anything but. You probably had some bad food.”
She looked quickly at him and knew he was teasing her again. Without forethought, she punched his bicep. Her fist met rock-hard muscle.
“So how do you make all of this money?” she asked, not attempting to hide the accusation.
Again, Nick laughed. “It’s all legitimate, kid; you haven’t fallen into the hands of the crime syndicate.” He sobered. “Most of it was made investing in the stock market—my money and other folks’ money. Lately, I’ve gotten out of that line of work.” He glanced at Daisy. “I own a canoe factory.”
“Really?”
“Yep, handcrafted, very expensive canoes. You ever canoed?”
“Nope. I’ve hardly been out of the Chicago area. I don’t imagine there’s a big demand for canoes here.”
“Actually, there is. A lot of our buyers vacation in Northern Minnesota, or maybe Wisconsin or Michigan. You really should try canoeing.”
“Why? I’m too clumsy for that.”
“Nonsense. You carry yourself with the grace of a tall woman who is comfortable with her body. You must drive the young studs up the wall. I suspect anyone who can be so at ease with horses can manage a canoe. And I think you’d love the serenity of it. Hang around me long enough and you’ll find yourself
in a canoe. You can count on that.”
Daisy smiled to herself. She knew about as much about young studs as she did about canoeing, but she wasn’t going to tell Nicholas Underwood that. Did he find her appealing?
- o -
They walked without saying anything more until they came to a halt in front of RainbowBlaze’s stall. The horse stepped forward, obviously expecting a treat. Nick was pleased to see Daisy didn’t disappoint her.
“So,” she said, not meeting Nick’s eyes, “what’s your plan? Are you going to keep RainbowBlaze?”
A slow grin crossed Nick’s lips. “I’m not sure I got a whole day’s tour.”
The blood seeped from the lanky woman’s face. “Okay,” he said, “I won’t leave you hanging. Yeah, you’ve done a very convincing job. Two things stood out, really. First, listening to you talk to that horse earlier today before you knew I was standing here. I’m envious of that kind of relationship. Second, watching that number ten horse strive to win was something I’ll never forget. I appreciate that desire.”
“So you’ll keep Rainbow?”
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll keep Blaze on two conditions.”
Now why was she frowning? Would the woman ever learn to trust him? But then maybe she shouldn’t. “First, you will continue to educate me regarding horses. How to be a heads-up owner. I’ll likely want to expand. Don’t look so shocked. You’ll learn, kid, I never do anything halfway. When I decide I want something, I go after it.”
So why was she blushing again? “Second, you will teach me how to read that newspaper you were reading today—that form that looked like a jumble of numbers and letters to me. Do you agree?”
“Of course. I can do all of that, if you have the time. And it will take much of my time, too.”
“Good. To cement the deal, when I draw up the papers on RainbowBlaze, you will appear as twenty percent owner.”
“What?” Daisy gasped. “You can’t...”
“Listen, kid, I’m beginning to think you’re a slow learner. Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” Nick took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the dust from his glasses; he studied the woman to see if she was again in danger of fainting.
Willow Smoke Page 2
