At Long Odds (A Racing Romance)

by Hannah Hooton

  The crowd gave a gasp and an hysterical shout and Ginny fumbled with her binoculars. Only one thing would cause this sort of reaction. Razor Sharpe had given Silver Sabre the command.

  All of a sudden the race was on.

  Like lightning, the grey colt accelerated as the field approached the dip in the course. Without hesitation, Quillan’s jockey went for his whip. Alex followed suit on Caspian. Silver Sabre had got a head start and had increased the gap between them to two lengths.

  Ginny’s binoculars slid out of her sweating palms as the horses neared the stands.

  At the front, Silver Sabre sliced between Goinggreatguns and the rail to take up the lead. With arms and legs pumping, Alex sent Caspian after him. For a desperate moment, Ginny thought the colt had had it, that he would stay one-paced throughout the remainder of the race, but with a somersault of her heart, she saw her horse take control. Almost in slow motion, he began to gather momentum, each powerful thrust of his hindquarters and shoulders hurtling him forward, faster and stronger.

  In awe, she watched him and Quillan race as one, overtaking Dunharrow and Tiger Tiger.

  ‘Go, go, go,’ she whispered, clutching Jim’s arm.

  Caspian and Quillan swept past Goinggreatguns and Vintage Secret in tandem. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing their imminent approach, Razor began to get serious with Silver Sabre, scrubbing his gloved hands up and down the colt’s white mane. Caspian and Quillan both sailed into the dip, matching strides as they reached the grey’s flank, and the momentum Caspian had found became reinforced. He pulled away from Quillan and, for the first time in the race, began to draw up alongside Silver Sabre’s girth.

  ‘GO!’ Ginny yelled in unison with her father. Adrenalin drained her vocabulary from her making her unable to utter any other word. ‘Go! Go! Go!’

  Razor picked up his whip and brought it down on his horse’s side, making the colt spring forward in surprise. This was the first time he had ever felt the whip, and also the first time any horse had looked him in the eye. Not to be outdone, Caspian spurted forward as well, his head stretched low and his body straining as he gained a few more inches. The two colts winged out of the dip and into the final furlong, locked together in a ferocious duel.

  Forgetting everything else, Ginny leapt up and down with her parents and Sally G, urging the colt on with every atom of their willpower. But it seemed that now Caspian had drawn level, he couldn’t get past. Silver Sabre was certainly no walk over.

  Becoming more hysterical as the wire rapidly approached, Ginny and Jim yelled Caspian’s name, willing the colt to find that little bit more. And suddenly it began to happen.

  Ginny was finding it hard to control herself, and for a fleeting second she concerned herself with Jim’s heart condition. It felt like she was having a heart attack, so she could only imagine what his was feeling like. But the bullish roar of the crowd jerked her back to the race.

  Inch by bitter inch, Caspian took the advantage. Silver Sabre made one last momentous effort to recapture his lead and retain his flawless record and, once again united, they thundered past the grandstand towards the line. But Caspian was too strong. What few inches the grey colt had regained, were wrenched back and Caspian drew further ahead – first a nose, then a head as the two streaked across the finish.

  Overcome, Ginny burst into tears and flung her arms around her father. Jim, never a man to hide his emotions, brushed away the tears streaming down his weathered cheeks as he returned her hug.

  ‘My clever, clever girl,’ he said, holding her close. It was an embrace not only of achievement but also of relief that Ravenhill Stables would be saved.

  But for Ginny, as an automatic reaction to that realisation, came that of overwhelming sadness. One of losing something she quite possibly valued most of all. Raising her head from her father’s shoulder, she looked around the stand with wide watery eyes. At last she found him, his hands thrust into his pockets, looking hapless with his shoulders hunched. He glared at the ground, ignoring Clinton Cole having a tantrum beside him. The owner waggled a threatening podgy finger beneath his nose.

  Any hope that she may have harboured that the American might show some sort of loyalty to his trainer disappeared like a lanced balloon. Feeling powerless, she watched Julien make his departure from the stand, praying for him to look at her, to see how sorry she was. A flickering flame of hope coursed through her when he stopped, his hand resting on the railing.

  He turned and looked across at her.

  The flame was forcefully blown out as she took in the expression on his face. She wouldn’t say it was anger or resentment. It was more of a farewell, the grim line of his mouth and smouldering eyes leaving her in no doubt that he held her completely responsible for losing him his best horse. Ginny felt like her heart was being ripped in half. Never had she imagined feeling such loss after such a monumental victory.

  ‘Come on, lovie,’ Jim grinned. ‘Let’s go welcome our hero. Just like we did his granddam all those years ago.’

  Ginny nodded and let herself be pulled towards the exit of the stands. She accepted a handkerchief from her mother and dabbed at her eyes. A television camera was ready to meet them as the Ravenhill party made their way down the walkway to where Alex and Caspian were jogging back. The colt’s coat glistened with sweat and his nostrils flared like poppies. Ginny felt her heart swell with pride as the realisation hit her that Caspian, her ordinary horse, cast aside by the media and critics, had just blown away the best colts of his generation.

  Alex was answering questions into a microphone offered to him by a television presenter hurrying to keep up with horse and rider. Kerry was the first to reach them and Alex returned her grin, ignoring the next media question as he placed his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze.

  With a feeling of déjà vu, Ginny greeted the returning conquerors with her father beside her. Words failed her.

  ‘Good job, Alex,’ she managed at last.

  He winked, knowing he’d done more than just a good job. Giving Caspian a thorough congratulatory pat on the neck, she took hold of his reins and led him the rest of the way into the winners’ enclosure. A microphone bobbed beside her as the presenter turned away from Alex.

  ‘Ginny, congratulations!’ he said, patting her on the back. ‘How does it feel?’

  She opened her mouth to reply but no words came out. How could she explain when her loyalties felt like they were in a tumble dryer?

  ‘You’re in shock,’ the presenter grinned. ‘We can see that. I’d say most of us are the same. Did you think Caspian could beat Silver Sabre all along? What are your plans for him now?’

  ‘I didn’t know what to expect from this race,’ Ginny said, managing to compose herself. ‘We’re going to put Caspian away for the winter and then we’ll reassess what to do with him next year.’

  ‘Do you see him as a Guineas horse? A Derby horse as well, perhaps?’ he persisted.

  A Classic horse? Ginny at last allowed herself to believe that was what she might have.

  ‘I – I don’t know,’ she stammered. ‘Alex hasn’t even had time to weigh in yet. It’s too soon to be making those sorts of judgements.’

  ‘Well, congratulations on a huge victory,’ he said as they approached the gateway to the parade ring. ‘And congratulations to Caspian, the new Dewhurst Stakes winner.’

  Like a relay team, another television channel’s representative appeared as they entered the winner’s enclosure and Ginny’s attention was roped away again. With one eye on her horse and jockey she tried to answer the questions fired at her as well as she could. She stopped as she saw Alex jump off Caspian.

  Still grinning like an idiot, Kerry went to throw her arms around him. Alex was too quick. Catching her by the shoulders, he kissed her full on the mouth, gathering her in his arms like Rhett Butler. A frenzy of camera flashes exploded around them. Kerry went limp. The American drew back and gave her his most brilliant smile. Kerry’s eyes were as big as saucers. Sh
e stood there, speechless as a fidgeting Caspian bumped her from behind. Alex leaned forward and kissed her again, a gentler, more caring kiss.

  A bouquet of microphones at last forced them apart and Ginny smiled at the pair. Kerry’s face was the picture of all that is good and well in one person’s world. Remembering the rush when Julien had first kissed her outside Sally G’s house, she could just imagine what Kerry was feeling now.

  Chapter Forty

  The party at Ravenhill Stables was still going strong later that evening when Ginny at last found the opportunity to slip outside. The night was dark and moonless. A cool whispering breeze rustled the plants in the front garden as Ginny closed the front door behind her, muffling the loud music which had been blaring in her ears for the past few hours. Inside, the whole family, including Ray and Sarah, were knocking back champagne with Des and his wife, Darragh and friends, Sally G and Alex and Kerry. The stable lass was now sitting on Cloud Nine as well as Alex’s knee and Ginny was sure that the smile on the girl’s face hadn’t faltered once since their Dewhurst victory.

  She walked beneath the archway into the yard and across the concourse to Caspian’s stable. She needed a respite from the party, a few moments to herself to think and to rest her facial muscles from having to uphold a smile all evening. Caspian also deserved her congratulations. Not only had he beaten the mighty Silver Sabre, but had put Quillan, a further four lengths adrift, smartly in his place as well.

  *

  Caspian leant over his half-door as she approached and whickered.

  Mindlessly stroking the velvet-soft skin between his nostrils, Ginny considered Alex and Kerry inside. It all seemed so easy for them now.

  ‘I’m happy for them. Really, I am,’ she said to Caspian. ‘It’s just…’

  The colt pricked his ears at her and blinked, the dark pools of his eyes glistening in the dark as he listened to his trainer.

  Shame washed over her. She wasn’t even able to admit to her horse, a creature who couldn’t even understand her, what she was feeling. Jealousy didn’t come into it, but in a way Alex and Kerry finally finding each other seemed to accentuate what she had lost. It made her feel just a little bit like she was now left out in the cold, so to speak. Ginny shook her head.

  ‘I shouldn’t be so greedy,’ she whispered up at her horse. She had won her first Group One – the Dewhurst Stakes no less. She should be over the moon, but now all she could think of was what she had lost instead.

  It’s silly really, she scolded herself. Julien was never hers to lose.

  Caspian pushed his nose into her palm, encouraging her to scratch his cheek or behind his ears. She focussed her attention on him again and smiled.

  ‘All hail Prince Caspian,’ she murmured. ‘You did very well today, boy. You won more than just a race. Do you know that? You’ve given Ravenhill a second chance. Who knows where you’ll take us next year. We’ll let you have a nice long rest until the spring. You’ll enjoy that, won’t you? A great big paddock full of juicy grass that you can get fat on and grow up big and strong. You don’t have to worry about a thing…’

  Contented, the colt placed his chin on her shoulder, gazing behind her as she stroked the short soft hair on his cheek.

  The muted sounds of the music in the house drifted through the yard, and with a pang, she recognised the first gentle murmurings of Show Me Heaven. Beth must have got her Days of Thunder soundtrack out. It was a nice song, Ginny thought, but not a particular favourite, but oh, how much it meant to her now. Julien’s voice that day at the barbeque echoed through her mind. ‘It’s our song,’ he’d teased. The laughter in his face and eyes that day was a world away from the expression now imprinted in her memory – his look of farewell.

  She sighed.

  How and when would that this dark cloud of depression ease up? She felt exhausted, not physically, but emotionally drained. She was too tired to even cry, like someone had wrung every last drop of passion out of her body like a wet cloth, leaving her sapped of the will to confront the future. Her future. A future without Julien Larocque.

  ‘Oh, Caspian. What do I do now?’ she asked in despair.

  Caspian blew hot breath across her collar in reply.

  Suddenly, she felt the horse raise his head, feeling the muscles in his body tauten as his attention was captured by something behind her. The scrape of a heel against the brick walkway made Ginny spin round. Julien stood just a few paces away from her in the darkness, his face shadowed by the dim golden glow of the security light, and his pale blue shirt bright in the gloom. He had discarded his jacket, but didn’t seem to feel the chilly night as he stood there motionless in front of her, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets.

  ‘Julien –’ Ginny faltered. She stumbled forward but drew herself up short, when she saw his sober, unreadable expression. She searched his half-lit face for some sort of answer, even just a clue to explain why he was here, what this could possibly mean. ‘I – I’m sorry,’ she stammered, barely above a whisper.

  Julien shook his head but didn’t move.

  ‘I never got to congratulate you,’ he said at last.

  With a gasp of release, Ginny wavered, not able to take a step as he strode purposefully towards her. He cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her hard on the lips.

  The rest of the world ceased to exist for Ginny, as she savoured the touch of his skin against hers, the warm taste of his mouth as he pressed it against hers. She breathed him in, felt her body tingle as he smoothed his thumbs along her cheekbones. With her hands lingering on his neck, she drew back.

  ‘Silver Sabre, is he –’ she began.

  ‘Don’t worry about him,’he reassured her.

  ‘But is he still yours?’ Ginny persisted, needing to know.

  Julien shook his head.

  ‘Clinton Cole is booking first class tickets for them both back to America as we speak.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Julien. I never meant for this to happen.’

  Julien shrugged and threaded her hair away from her face in a tender gesture.

  ‘It doesn’t matter anymore. This is what matters.’ Again, he kissed her and Ginny’s senses reeled. The breeze cooled her moistened lips as they parted. She hesitated still, not quite able to believe in her fairytale.

  ‘But what’s to stop this from happening again?’ she asked, a tremor of uncertainty in her voice.

  A smile tugged at his mouth.

  ‘You mean we are still business rivals?’

  ‘Um, well, yes. We are, realistically.’

  ‘And do we always have to be realistic?’

  Ginny didn’t reply. She didn’t want to lose Julien now that they had found each other but neither could she ignore the realities of their opposing businesses. Julien was silent for a moment then he looked to his left, to where Ravenhill Stables bordered with Cobalt Lodge.

  ‘That wall seems easy enough to knock through, don’t you think?’ he said.

  Ginny stared at him, her eyes widening as it hit her what he was implying.

  ‘You mean – you mean join forces?’

  Julien’s expression was serious again.

  ‘I have twenty odd stables now empty. I think you’ll be needing a few more than what you have now after annihilating us all with Caspian.’ He looked at her, searching for her response. ‘We could try work with one another, instead of against for a change. What do you say?’

  At last, Ginny was able to smile without any doubt. Pulling his head down, she kissed him with abandon. As she closed her eyes, she felt the waves of torturous emotions which had crashed against the walls of her head and heart throughout the season, still into a gentle calm.

  ‘There’s just one thing,’ Julien continued, breaking away.

  Ginny held her breath. Now that she’d actually allowed herself to believe in her fairytale ending, she hadn’t contemplated any terms and conditions.

  ‘What?’ she said dubiously.

  ‘This is a big decision to be making.�
�� Julien’s tone was grave and Ginny swallowed. He glanced behind him at Ravenhill’s office. ‘I think we need to close the deal.’

  She nearly choked at his words. For the most romantic moment of her life, he wanted to go draw up a contract?

  Julien smiled at her bewildered expression and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘And I don’t mean putting pen to paper.’

  *

  In the glow of the dim electric light, Ginny and Julien walked across the yard, his arm wrapped around her side. Ginny rested her head against his shoulder. Caspian watched them go, his head held high. Tossing it up in the air, he whinnied, calling for them to come back and give him some more attention. Neither of them acknowledged him. Through the darkness, he watched his trainer opening the door to the office and he waited for the light to be switched on. When the yard remained in darkness, he pricked his ears with anticipation of their return and a low whicker trembled at the back of his throat, ready for their reappearance. With interest, he watched Ginny and Julien’s silhouettes through the window, their bodies separated only for a moment before becoming one and disappearing from his view.

  Caspian tossed his head once more, his thick forelock splaying over the star on his forehead. With a resigned snort he ducked back into his stable and reached down for a mouthful of hay, a sixth sense telling him he would be getting no attention from those two for a while yet.

  THE END

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  Read on for the first chapter of Hannah Hooton’s second racing romance, Keeping the Peace.

  Keeping the Peace

  HANNAH HOOTON

  London waitress, Pippa Taylor has no interest in horses or country-living. But when she inherits Peace Offering, a hopeless racehorse, she embarks on a career change in order to see her late uncle’s wish to run him in the Grand National come true.