Book Four of the Winning Odds Series: Soon to be a Movie

by MaryAnn Myers

  Junior led the way to the track kitchen.

  “Okay.” Randy turned to Tom and Dusty. “I’ll lift his shoulders and you two drag him out by his legs. Eddie, get a shank for the horse.”

  When all three were in place, Randy leaned down and tried dead-lifting Ferguson. “Where the hell’s Mark when I need him?” Now red in the face, he bent even lower with the second try and got a good hold under Ferguson’s armpits and strained again to lift the man. Eddie talked to the horse, rubbing his shoulder, keeping him calm.

  In the midst of this, Ferguson came to life. “Randy? Randy, is that you? What are you doooing?”

  Randy couldn’t help but laugh and as a result had to gently ease the man back down. It’s hard to move a mountain when you’re laughing - and this particular mountain of a man was perhaps one of the kindest men on God’s green earth and deserving of respect. Randy thought the world of him. Actually, there wasn’t a soul on the racetrack who didn’t like Ferguson, drunk or sober.

  “Okay, come on. Let’s try this again,” Randy said. “On three. One, two, three.” Randy raised Ferguson as high off the ground as he could and Tom and Dusty dragged the man out into the shedrow. When they let go his legs and arms, Ferguson lay prone at their feet.

  “Thanks, gentlemen,” he said, saluting them. “I’ll be just fine now. Ya’ll just give me a m-m-minute.”

  His horse walked to the front of his stall and lowered his head.

  “It’s all right, Lackie.” Ferguson patted him gently on the nose. “I’m okay.”

  Dusty, Tom, and Randy stood catching their breath. It was tempting to leave the man spread eagle in the shedrow until he sobered up. But, there was no way they could do that - not with today’s racing about to start and the probability of other trainers in the barn needing the shedrow to cool their horses out. Eddie latched the stall webbing and headed toward the tack room.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Tom asked.

  “We’re in the second race. I gotta get ready.”

  Randy, Tom, and Dusty glanced at one another, then stared down at Ferguson and right before their very eyes a miracle occurred. Ferguson rolled onto his stomach, got to his knees, and with no help whatsoever stood and dusted himself off. He staggered a little, grabbed the outer shedrow railing for balance, and then off he went. “Don’t forget to get the tongue-tie,” he yelled to Eddie. “I ain’t never been late to the paddock and I don’t intend to start now.”

  ~ * ~

  Wendy looked up from her desk when she heard the sound of a small stampede headed in her direction. She and Richard shared the downstairs office on the first floor just down the hall from the Stewards and Racing Secretary’s offices.

  Leon led the entourage in his trademark follow-me brisk pace, stopped abruptly for a second to tap on the door frame, and entered pointing. “Set up over there.”

  Wendy watched the film crew file in and take their places. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t on the phone.”

  “That would have been perfect,” Leon said. “Live action.”

  “Except for confidentiality,” Wendy insisted.

  “No problemo. We would edit it out or do a voiceover. Here’s the deal. Upon Ben’s suggestion, we are introducing everyone which will be at the start, so….”

  “Ben’s suggestion?”

  Leon smiled. “Precisely.” Precisely was one of his favorite expressions, right up there with no problemo and phenomenal. “Now if you’ll just sit at your desk….”

  “Okaaay.” Wendy smiled. She was already seated at her desk.

  The make-up person gave Wendy a quick touch-up.

  “All right. And action.”

  Wendy fluttered one eye.

  “Cut!” Leon shook his head. “What was that?”

  “I have something in my eye.”

  Here came the make-up person again. “Don’t move. It’s an eyelash.” She whipped out a Q-Tip and nabbed it.

  “Are we ready now?”

  Wendy blinked a couple of times and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Action.”

  “Hi, my name is Wendy Girard.”

  Leon sighed. “Hi? We’ll edit that. Keep talking.”

  “I’m the Assistant General Manager of Nottingham Downs & Casino. I’ve been with the company for eight years.”

  Leon pretended to yawn. “Boring…” he mouthed.

  “I am married to Tom Girard who has been on the racetrack forever. He and I…I mean…we, we have two children, Matthew and Gordon.”

  Another yawn.

  “When I first met my husband Tom, I didn’t know the first thing about horses let alone racehorses. It was right after Ben Miller bought the racetrack. Tom is Ben’s assistant trainer. Well, at least he was. Well, actually I think he might still be down as his assistant. Him or Dawn. I’m not quite sure if….”

  “Cut! Wendy, Wendy, Wendy! Can we hear about you please?”

  Wendy paused and stared out the wall-to-wall window overlooking the racetrack and didn’t notice when Leon signaled one of the film crew to zoom in on her. The horses for the second race were being led to the starting gate. “I love this place,” she said. “I didn’t always. For a long time, it was just a job. I hardly ever watched a race and now I can’t even imagine one being run without me.”

  Leon had the second videographer follow her gaze to the starting gate. “Perfect,” he said as he peered over the man’s shoulder. The room fell quiet as each horse was loaded, one camera poised on Wendy, the other on the gate.

  “And they’re off!”

  Chapter Two

  Dawn turned into the driveway at Meg’s Meadows and drove slowly past Ben’s sprawling white farmhouse. On the right of the driveway sat three large white-clapboard barns and acres and acres of white-fenced paddocks and pastures. The training track lay just beyond a tree-lined path.

  After parking to the side of the turnaround leading up to the colonial she and Randy had built on the farm several years ago, Dawn got out of her car and closed the door quietly. Maeve, Maria, and D.R. would be napping, or at least they should be, and she didn’t want to wake them. She needed a moment or two to herself.

  From her backyard where she was hanging sheets to dry, Liz watched Dawn walk up the path to the training track. She couldn’t possibly ask for a better daughter-in-law and loved her dearly. It broke her heart to see Dawn in such grief. It was sad enough that her Aunt Maeve passed suddenly, but a drowning and no body. No closure. Years ago, Dawn had lost both her parents tragically in a private plane accident her father piloted. Now this. The only relatives she had left on the Fioritto side were her Uncle Matt and her cousin Linda, and with Linda and Harland traveling so much she hardly ever saw Linda anymore.

  Dawn sat down on the small bleacher by the entrance to the training track, drew a deep breath, and gazed up at the clear blue sky. “Oh, Aunt Maeve, if you only knew how much I miss you.” Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her face. “I can’t believe you’re gone.”

  She’d cried for days upon hearing the news of her Aunt’s death and agonized even more over the sketchy information provided by the Ugandan authorities. Her Aunt Maeve had been an Olympic swimmer in her youth and still so healthy and fit. How could she drown in a shallow river?

  At the sound of rustling in the brush, Dawn prepared herself for the onslaught of the dogs. All six of them, five Labradors and a Standard Poodle jumped on her, gave her kisses, whined, wiggled, and vied her for attention. “That’s a good boy. That’s a good girl.” She petted them all, scratched behind their ears, and wiped her eyes. Enough crying for one day.

  “You’ve got to move on,” she told herself. “You’ve got to move on.” The dogs walked with her back down the path, wagging their tails, still jumping on her, jumping on one another, and barking. If the children were asleep before, they were surely awake now.

  “Mommy!” D.R. and Maeve met Dawn on the porch and leapt into her arms.

  Their nanny Carol stood smiling in
the doorway. “Quit! You’re going to knock your mother over.”

  “We want to go see the ponies!” D.R. said.

  “Yes! Ponies, Mommy! Ponies!” Maeve echoed.

  “Where’s Maria?” Dawn asked.

  “Still sleeping,” Carol said. “I’ll go wake her.”

  Whenever Linda Dillon, the Nottingham Downs Assistant Racing Secretary, was at work her daughter Maria stayed at Dawn and Randy’s; Carol served as nanny to all three children. Maria came out onto the porch yawning and rubbing her eyes.

  The ponies were in the far pasture just beyond “T-Bone’s Place, The Retirement Home for Old Racetrackers.” On the way the children always played a game of naming all the horses in the pastures. The identities changed just about every day depending on who was turned out and close enough to the fence for the children to recognize. Dawn stopped at the stallion barn to get treats for them to feed the ponies.

  “That’s Beau Born,” D.R. said proudly.

  Maria and Maeve covered their ears just in time before Beau let out one of his classic stud-horse whinnies that could rock the earth. The children knew to stay outside of the barn, mindful of Ben’s stern words, “A stallion barn is no place for little ones.” They weren’t allowed to climb the fence when Beau and his pasture mate Hurry Sandy were turned out either, even though the three of them loved to climb.

  “Here she comes! Hurry, Mommy!” Maeve said. “Hurry!”

  They tugged at Dawn’s arms.

  “That’s Sissy.” Maria was the first to recognize the older barren broodmare turned out with the babies.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Dawn said. “She’s taking over for their mothers. Do you remember why?”

  “Because the babies are weanlings.” D.R. stood with his hands on his hips to say that just the way Tom would. “They’ve been weaned.”

  Dawn smiled at her little cowboy and ruffled his carrot-top hair as they walked on. “That’s Batgirl,” Maria said.

  “That’s Wee Born,” Maeve pointed out.

  These two horses were turned out in the third pasture and got along famously. With Wee Born only recently retired to broodmare status and Batgirl home for a rest, the two matched up perfectly. Over the years they’d been separated if one was at the racetrack and the other wasn’t, but for the most part, the two of them had grown up together. They were half-sisters. Ben was still debating who he planned to breed Wee Born to come breeding season. And for that matter, Batgirl too, should he decide to retire her also at the end of the racing year.

  “They’re best friends just like us,” Maeve said.

  Maria nodded emphatically as they skipped along.

  Being mid-afternoon, Glenda and George were more than likely up at their house, which was the one right past T-Bone’s Place. Morning chores were done, stalls cleaned, horses turned out, some brought back in, water troughs and buckets topped off. Glenda liked taking a nap this time of day. A lot of the old-timers napped in the afternoon as well. D.R. ran ahead and starting calling out names of the horses in the yearling pasture.

  “Little Shit, Chicken Shit, and Mighty Shit.”

  Dawn could hardly keep a straight face. “That’s enough of that, D.R. You know better.”

  “But, Mommy, that’s what Uncle Tom calls them.”

  “I don’t care.” Dawn shook her head. “I don’t want you to call them that ever again. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” D.R. shoved his hands in his pockets and walked ahead of them.

  Registered names for the yearlings hadn’t even been decided upon let alone approved by the Jockey Club, hence Tom’s creative nicknames. When they came to the broodmare pasture all three children tried to drown one another out shouting, “All Togetherrrrr!”

  The mare raised her head from grazing and nickered. All Together and Beau Born were Dawn’s favorites, but she had little to do with Beau’s day-to-day care anymore. Since he’d gotten too hard for her to handle, she had the broodmare spoiled with attention.

  All Together walked over to the fence followed by the big bay mare Native Lea nicknamed “Neta.” Both broodmares got treats and fussed over, then Dawn and the children moved on. This time of year there weren’t that many horses at Meg’s Meadows. During foaling, breeding season, and non-racing season they had anywhere from twenty to thirty horses stabled or turned out on pasture. Mares and foals everywhere, and Beau whinnying from dawn to dusk and sometimes even into the night. Dawn longed for more activity to keep her mind occupied. But then again, she reminded herself, it would be busy soon enough. The groundbreaking of Randy and his sister Cindy’s new veterinary clinic along with Randy’s partner Mark was less than a week away.

  When they arrived at Mim’s golf-cart garden; a memorial to a dear friend who passed away right there on that very spot, all three children grew quiet, stood solemnly, and bowed their heads. The first time they did this surprised Dawn, particularly since after bowing their heads they all three made the sign of the cross and said, “Amen.”

  “Carol says it’s to show respect,” D.R. said. “She said it was to Godspeed Mim.”

  “Godspeed Mim,” Maeve and Maria echoed.

  After they paid their respects, they started down the cart path to the pony pasture. “Time to play old-timers.” Dawn followed along as they rattled off the names of the residents at T-Bone’s Place.

  “Miguel. Bill.”

  “Jeannie. Steve. Jack.”

  “Um…Frank.”

  “Clint.”

  “Vicky.”

  Vicky was the live-in nurse.

  “Junior.”

  “I love Lucy - Baby Julie.”

  “Good job,” Dawn said. The I love Lucy reference always made her smile, because even though it was basically just another game the children played, rhyming to help them remember, everybody did love Lucy.

  “Tongue twister, Mommy. Listen. I love Lucy. I love Lucy, I love Lucy, I love Lucy, Lie Love Ucey, I Lou Youcy, woocy woocy.”

  Vicky walked out onto the back porch at T-Bone’s Place and waved to them.

  “And Cracker Jack too,” D.R. said.

  “Cracker Jack?” Dawn looked at him.

  “He’s coming soon to live here.”

  “Who said that?”

  “Daddy.”

  Dawn knew Cracker Jack was planning to move into T-Bone’s Place someday, but not this soon. He’d always said when the time came that’s where he wanted to be, just like Mim.”

  “He’s coming tomorrow Daddy said.”

  “Tomorrow? That soon?” Dawn glanced back at Mim’s garden, whispering, “Oh, dear God, no.”

  Vicky came down the back steps to join them and walked along with Dawn as the children ran on ahead. “Is it true Cracker Jack’s coming tomorrow for good?”

  Vicky nodded. “Sometime around noon. He’s so excited.”

  “You mean this is a good thing?”

  “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. I’m seeing gloom and doom in just about everything lately. Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine, dear. He’s just slowing down and he knows it. Besides, he’s tired of living alone. He’ll have his son and his family close by and he’ll have all of us.”

  Dawn looked at her. “I wonder why no one told me.”

  “You’ve had your mind on other things.”

  “Yes, but….”

  Vicky put her arm around Dawn’s shoulder as they walked along. “Time, Dawn. Time. It’s not a cure, but as the saying goes, it does put some distance.”

  Dawn looked at her and smiled sadly. “I don’t know how you do it. Everyone in your care is so close to ‘their time.’ I would be so worried. Look at Ben.”

  Vicky chuckled. “Ben is fine, and so is everyone else. If there’s one thing I know from being in the nursing business all my life, when your time comes, it comes. There’s nothing you can do about it, sooo….” She squeezed Dawn’s shoulder. “Go have some fun with the kids.”

  The children climbed the fence,
called the ponies, and they came running. Red had the lead, followed by Poncho, and then Biscuit with the little blind pony Sadie flanking his side. It was no illusion that Biscuit slowed his pace so she could keep up. All three of the ponies watched over her. Poncho and Biscuit were Maria’s mother Linda’s old racetrack ponies. Red was Tom’s and Ben’s old pony.

  These horses were used to leading other horses around at the racetrack. The fact that Sadie was a pint-size blind Shetland pony and not a Thoroughbred racehorse didn’t make any difference to them. She was their responsibility and they took their jobs seriously. The little pony was never alone. Just like mares herding foals into the middle of a circle to protect them in harsh weather, these three old geldings would nudge Sadie between them and hover over her until long after a storm had passed. Biscuit had even been seen with his head and neck hung low over the little pony to keep her snug in place.

  “Treats, Mommy! Give us the treats!”

  “Okay. But get down off the fence.”

  The children climbed down and held their hands out flat and wide the way they were taught. “Make sure Sadie gets some. Remember to touch her nose first so she knows where you are.”

  All four ponies got an equal amount of treats and pats on their noses. The children giggled, tickled as the horses nuzzled for more. Then it was back to grazing for the ponies and heading back home for the children.

  When a truck turned into the driveway, D.R. squealed. “Daddy! I want to ride with Daddy!”

  Randy stopped the truck and leaned over to open the passenger door. “Hop in!”

  “Are you home for the evening?” Dawn asked.

  “Hopefully. Come on. Make room for Mommy.”

  “No. Go ahead.” Dawn shut the truck door and stepped back. “I’ll see you up at the house.” She watched Randy drive away. The children were perched on their knees, looking out the back window, waving, happy, their little noses pressed against the glass. Normally Dawn would laugh and wave back, but all she could do today was stand there in the driveway and cry, sadness consuming her.

  At the sound of tires on gravel she turned. It was Tom. He pulled up next to her. “What’s going on?”