by Ann Hunter
He slid a small stack of legal-looking papers across the desk and handed her a pen to sign with. Brooke stared, wide eyed.
“Don’t look at it like a snake, dear,” Len said. “I promise it’s a straightforward sale. Just put your Jane Hancock on the line.”
Brooke’s fingers twitched. “What if she wins?”
“If she wins, and continues winning, we’ll keep her racing. But seeing as she’s yet to achieve that, I think it’s in her best interest to retire her for breeding.”
His finger tapped against the signature line. “Sign here.”
Alex hated riding in the car with Brooke, but this time she was grateful for the silence. It gave her time to think. She was done with this version of Brooke. As soon as they got to North Oak, she was tracking down whoever the hell she needed to in order to bring Morning Glory home and get Brooke to focus.
The car hadn’t even come to a full stop when Alex swung the door open and hopped out, storming toward North’s office. She’d find a way to get a hold of him somehow.
Luckily, he seemed to be keeping late hours tonight as she found him on his phone, pacing in front of his desk. She took a seat and waited for him to be done.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“I need to get a monkey off my back.”
North raised an eyebrow, sliding his phone into the pocket of his sports jacket. “You and me both,” he chuckled with a twitch of his eye.
Alex leaned forward. “I really think Brooke needs to bring Morning Glory to North Oak. She’s not getting the help she needs at Clearbrook.”
“Joe said— ”
“Her grandfather does not own this farm.”
North’s mouth tightened into a straight line. “No. He doesn’t.”
“Last I checked, the farm was called North Oak, Mr. North.”
He nodded, taking the hint. “The few times I’ve seen her in the last few months, she hasn’t looked well. No kid needs the strain she’s going through. Joe’s been too hard on her. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, rising from her seat. “I mean it.”
North nodded again, looking relieved. “Anything else I can do for you before you leave?”
Alex squinting at him, wondering if she should ask how that adoption paperwork was coming along, but she could tell by his expression that he really didn’t want to entertain any other requests. “We’re good.”
As she shut the door behind her, she found Brooke waiting for her outside.
“What are you up to?”
“I’m going to fix things,” Alex barked without looking at her. “I asked North to help you bring Mags home.” She stopped and turned.
“What business of yours is it to do that?” Brooke scowled.
“Are you freaking kidding me? I’m trying to help you. I thought maybe your dumb horse would stand a chance of winning if you were home with the people who care about you and will help you get the job done.”
Brooke’s face turned the shade of red on the shirt Alex was wearing. “Morning Glory will win. And I don’t need you or your help to do it.”
Alex ground her fists, storming off. “Fine. I’ll stay out of your way from now on then.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
Brooke felt sick to her stomach as she held her filly by the bridle while Clearbrook’s trainer tacked her up for her race. Even though the Leanders had invited her to be their guest in their private box in the stands, she decided she’d rather be close to Morning Glory in their last few moments together.
Why had she allowed herself to sign her away so easily? Why couldn’t she wrap her head around what she really wanted anymore? She leaned her forehead against Morning Glory’s and closed her eyes.
No matter the outcome of this race, Morning Glory belonged to Clearbrook when she crossed the finish line. Why make a horse race if they didn’t love running? Brooke tried to justify her decision, telling herself that Len was right. This was in Mags’s best interest. She’d be happier as a broodmare.
Wouldn’t she?
As Brooke led her around the walking ring and passed her off to the outrider with jockey up, Morning Glory glanced back to her with a forlorn whinny.
Brooke clenched her fist and ground it against her gut, trying to quell the stab inside. Gazing at her beautiful filly, now, sunlight glinting off Clearbrook’s royal blue and goldenrod silks, it just didn’t feel right. None of it did.
She could barely watch as the horses loaded into the starting gate. It was Oaklawn all over again. That little voice that kept telling her that this was all somehow a good idea remained silenced, until Brooke said to herself that maybe it wouldn’t be all bad. Maybe she could convince Clearbrook to give her part ownership in Mags’s foal. She could name it My Broken Dream or Stupid Teenager.
Brooke had a moment of surreal clarity as eight horses surged from the starting gate to the tune of the announcer’s “And away they go.”
She felt sort of numb as it all played out, exactly the way Mags always ran, finishing sixth, just shy of a paycheck. Brooke hardly had time to sort out her feelings before the next field of horses entered the saddling area. Her eyes had followed Morning Glory back to the barn, but the rest of her couldn’t move.
Promenade circled the walking ring.
He looked around with that cocky confidence he often gave off, but his eyes rolled and he snorted nervously. He jigged at the end of his short shank, rubbing his gums against the chain on the lead. Brooke looked over her shoulder for Alex, knowing no way she’d miss then. Then sort of dreaded seeing her when she finally caught a glimpse of her down the rail.
Alex shot her a look, then returned to Promenade. She sort of glowed, and Brooke knew what she must feel, to see her horse dressed to the nines for his big day.
The colt looked super sharp with his blaze jutting out from beneath North Oak’s red and silver blinkers, trimmed in a white bridle; a sharp contrast of dark chocolate against fire and ice.
Brooke glanced at the tote board to see him going off as the odds-on favorite. And who could blame the bettors with a good lookin’ horse like that? Just looking at him, you could tell he was the best in his class, head and shoulders above the other fractious two-year-olds headed to the gates. Composed, yet aware.
He loaded into the gate like he’d been doing it all of his life and broke cleanly.
“And they’re off. Going right to the front is Promenade, followed closely by Aftermath and Gloom And Doom. Two back to Eddie’s Maple with Fighter Pilot just behind. Trailing the field is Cordially Invited. The opening quarter done in a lazy thirty. Aftermath is moving up with Fighter Pilot ready to shoot for Gloom And Doom. Cordially Invited continues to trail with Eddie’s Maple falling back. Promenade is struggling to fight off the pacers.”
Brooke gripped the rail, dreading Promenade losing. She didn’t know if she could take another failure today. Fighter Pilot pressed the pace, grinding past Gloom And Doom and bearing down on Promenade.
Brooke glanced to Alex to see the same dismay creeping on to her face. Brooke bit her lip. The colts came down the stretch with their jockeys yelling, whips popping, the sound of hooves thundering against the dirt.
“Fighter Pilot is gunning for the lead! Promenade doing everything he can to hold him off, but it’s all over folks.”
Brooke didn’t know why, but she slowly made her way toward Alex as Promenade faded quickly from first, to second, to fourth. She felt like she moved through a confetti rain of ruined betting stubs, isolated in this moment for whatever reason.
She stood by Alex, waiting for her to say something. The noise of the crowd faded when she finally did.
“We were supposed to be a team, Brooke. We don’t always get along, but we’re a team.” Alex lifted her eyes to Brooke’s slowly, her face a quiet storm. “You failed us. Worst of all, you failed Mags. She needs you. I need you. So pull your jealous head out of your obsessive ass and be here.”
CHASING GLORY
Horse racing was a joker’s game, full of wild cards and slap jacks. Even if you had a great poker face, there was no bluffing your way through. You either were all in, or you folded. Sometimes you got lucky, but that’s what made luck special. It didn’t happen very often.
Brooke held Morning Glory’s face gently, laying kisses on her soft whiskery muzzle. “It was an amazing ride, girl,” Brooke sniffled.
Morning Glory nickered and nudged Brooke’s cheek.
“I’ll miss you.”
Leaving Morning Glory behind with Clearbrook at Churchill Downs was one of the hardest things Brooke had ever done. She didn’t think her heart could hurt this much again after her mother passing away, but it did.
It had been a long time since Brooke begged God, make it hurt less.
But now, as she forced herself to walk away from her filly, she prayed it harder than she ever had before.
Brooke slouched on the couch in Pop’s living room, watching Thunderhead with Laura who snarfed down pizza while she babbled about Johnathan.
Brooke looked at her, nodding passively, not actually hearing anything she was saying.
“How come you haven’t been to Clearbrook to see your filly?” Laura asked.
“I sold her.”
“Well that was stupid. You were crazy about her.”
Brooke slid lower on the couch. “I was crazy to think I could pull it off. I couldn’t get my head in the game.”
“That’s what Alex has been saying.”
Brooke blinked. “This whole time I thought she was angry I wasn’t around to help her with Promenade.”
“Are you serious?” Laura sat up straight, mouth ajar. “That’s such a lame excuse. Don’t tell me you’re that blind. Where is my amazing, smart, logical bestie?”
Brooke frowned. “Dead.”
“You might as well be. You’ve been a zombie since you got back from Churchill. No wonder.”
“I have no one to blame but myself.”
“Okay, sure.” Laura bumped her shoulder against Brooke’s. “Feel sorry for yourself. That’s totally the girl I grew up with.”
“How do you get over something like that?”
Laura shook her head. “I dunno, but you have to. You can’t mope around like this. It’s not healthy.”
Brooke pushed herself up on the couch. “I ran Dejado off. I’m pretty sure I hurt Alex or something. I lost Mags…”
Laura pulled her in for a squeeze, hugging her head against her shoulder. “Stop it. Stop beating yourself up. Would the real Brooke Merrsal please stand up.”
“She can’t. You’re squishing her head.”
Laura leaned her cheek against Brooke’s hair. “Listen. We’re going to have an ugly cry, stuff our faces with pizza and ice cream; A League of Their Own may be involved, and then you’re going to get that horse back. Okay?”
“Why A League of Their Own?” Brooke lifted her head.
Laura smiled. “My mom always says it makes you have a good cry and you feel better about yourself after, but the way I see it— those broads didn’t take no for an answer, and you need to be reminded that neither do you. Because my best friend… well, she kind of runs the show.”
Tears welled in Brooke’s eyes. Laura hugged her again, letting her use her shoulder for a sobbing place.
“You’re a lynch pin, Brookie. North Oak just doesn’t work the same without you.”
Brooke sat across from Mr. North in his office. “I have to get her back. I don’t care what it takes.”
“I want to help you. I really do. You know I respect your family, and therefore I respect you.”
“So you’ll help?”
“The yearling sales were enough to keep us floating, and I need you to work your magic again. In exchange for Morning Glory’s acquisition and boarding, you’ll take no commission this year, and I want ownership of her first foal.”
“You’ll sell it.”
“Yes, I will,” North said matter of factly.
“What about after the first foal?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Half ownership in all foals thereafter.”
The price was steep.
“The question is how badly do you want Morning Glory at North Oak?”
Brooke sat there feeling weary from this battle she had been fighting, realizing the real question was how badly did she want to come home again?
Even though North’s offer stung, it was still a better deal than living life without Mags. Brooke hoped her knees wouldn’t turn to jello when she stood. This pill was horse-sized, and it was almost too hard to swallow.
Her voice was dry and scratchy. “Let’s go get her.”
“Didn’t you just sell her to us?” Len Leander’s eyes narrowed, looking perplexed.
Brooke glanced at Mr. North who sat beside her across from Clearbrook Farms’s owner. She cleared her throat. “Horses get bought and sold every day. I’m buying her back. You said yourself she’s worth nothing to you as a racer.”
“I’ve already booked a stallion. Are you going to pay for my lost fees on that too?”
Brooke rubbed the sweat from her palms on her knees. How was she going to get around that one? North nodded in encouragement. “I can, if you’re willing to take half ownership in a foal or two.”
Mr. Leander leaned back in his office chair as North often did. Brooke thought their similarities were kind of remarkable. In fact, Leander sort of looked like an older version of North’s son.
“We discussed this, Miss Merrsal. Straight across deal. Morning Glory’s career as a racehorse is over. Being a broodmare is what’s best for her now.”
Brooke rose and braced herself on the desk, leaning in so Leander could hear her clearly as she dropped each word stoutly. “She is mine. And I am hers. And I know what’s best for her. I’m what’s best for her.”
And somewhere deep down, she’d known it all along.
Leander repeatedly clicked a pen in his hand, like she’d somehow unnerved him. He sat up straight. “It’s not that simple. You signed papers. Legal documents. And unless you can provide some of those, she’s staying with us a good long while.”
Mr. North cleared his throat, producing a blank check from his jacket pocket. He slid it across the desk.
Brooke smirked at Leander. “How ‘bout them apples.”
“I’ll double whatever you paid for her, Len,” North said.
Leander glared at him. “Why would you do that? She’s worthless.”
“Wasn’t so worthless when you bought her from me,” Brooke retorted.
“Take the money and give the kid the horse,” North urged. “You won’t get a better deal in her lifetime.”
Brooke wanted to cringe as Mr. Leander kept clicking that ridiculous pen. It finally silenced and he put it to the check. “Double what I paid and half ownership in two foals.”
He scribbled an amount on the check and slid it back toward North. North looked at it and gave Brooke the same peeved look Laura sometimes got from her mom. She leaned over to see the amount of thirty thousand dollars.
She nodded, feeling guilty she had roped North into this. He ducked his face close to her ear.
“This is your dream?”
Brooke bit her lip and nodded.
North shook his head like she was crazy. “Don’t let me down,” he said and signed the check. “No pressure, of course.”
Brooke winced as Leander took the check, seeming pleased with the deal. He offered his hand to her. “Pleasure doing business.”
North rose from his seat, buttoning his sports jacket. “I’ll have my people send you official papers. Ask your trainer to move Morning Glory to my barn at Churchill.”
Brooke shook Leander’s hand as he agreed that wouldn’t be a problem, and he’d have it done right away. The next time Brooke saw Mags, she’d be in a red and silver blanket, and all hers. For good this time.
Knowing Morning Glory was safe with North Oak’s horses, Brooke fo
cused on getting her suffering grades back up over the next few weeks. When she wasn’t studying, she was skimming the card at Churchill for another race to try Mags at.
She knew her grandfather would still refuse to give the filly the attention she deserved, but he wouldn’t neglect her. He was stubborn, not cruel. Brooke would didn’t want too much time to pass between races before Morning Glory soured again.
She had an idea to try a race as late in the day as possible. She’d been training Morning Glory at Clearbrook like that, and wondered if the good work she’d done had helped solve Morning Glory’s morning glory problem. Brooke didn’t think it would be that easy, but it was worth a shot.
She apologized to Alex and asked her to come to Churchill with her a few days before the race. The Showmans agreed to let her go as long as Alex stayed on top of homework, which meant Alex brought Carol along too, and Carol’s mom.
Brooke wasn’t so sure how she felt about the whole entourage, wishing the Showmans weren’t so busy with breeding and foaling season. She made a note to herself to start working with weanlings to prepare them for the fall sale right after she brought Morning Glory home.
When she got to Churchill Downs, she ditched the caravan as soon as she could to see her filly. She was ready to stuff her with peppermints and swear to never let her go. What she didn’t expect was for Mags to have a visitor.
He turned and smiled at her. “Egg!”
“Dejado? What are you doing here?”
“I was tracking Mags on equibase and noticed she changed hands a few times. I wanted to make sure she was all right, so I came down from Belmont to check on her.”
“Yeah, it got hairy for a second.”
“What was that all about?”
“I sold her and bought her back.”
“Why isn’t she in your name?”
Brooke sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s complicated.”
