Making Her Mark

by Renée Dahlia

‘Can you organise enough tickets for my whole team?’ he asked.

  She shrugged, more of twitch really, ‘Sure, I don’t see why not. Allira?’

  ‘I’ll check my calendar. I think I switch to nights on Friday, so I’ll probably be sleeping.’

  ‘Oh bugger, that’s a shame.’

  ‘Not really. I don’t particularly want to spend all day with Jacob and his drunken team mates,’ Allira smiled.

  ‘They aren’t that bad.’

  ‘Aren’t they?’ Allira asked.

  Jacob rolled his eyes, ‘You’ve never bothered to come and meet them. What did Dad say about making assumptions about people?’

  ‘I don’t need to meet them. I’ve heard enough stories from you to know they aren’t my kind of people.’

  ‘Hey, hey, you two,’ Rachel called out, and Jacob turned in his seat to face her.

  ‘What?’ Allira asked.

  ‘You are bickering.’

  ‘Siblings do that, it’s perfectly normal. Unless you don’t argue with yours?’

  Rachel laughed, a full body chuckle, her shoulders shaking, ‘True. I argue with mine all the time.’

  ‘Well, you can’t taunt me into spending the day with your team, Jacob. You know how I feel about alcohol.’

  ‘That one is fine, but any more and people start doing dumb things that require you to stitch them back together?’ He’d heard her say it often enough.

  ‘Precisely. I just couldn’t spend a day with people getting drunk on purpose and not be a buzzkill about it. And before you say it, working in the pub is fine because I can watch people as they leave and make sure they’ll be okay.’ Allira sighed. Rachel slung her arm around Allira’s shoulders, needing to stretch up on tiptoes to do it.

  ‘I’m with you. Let the boys get drunk, I’ll ride some winners, and hopefully even the big one, and we can have a quiet glass of bubbles here together the next day.’

  ‘Now that’s a plan.’ Allira visibly relaxed. Jacob’s hand prickled with a sudden protectiveness. Was there more to Allira’s unwillingness to be in a crowd?

  ‘You can stop right there, Jacob,’ she said as if on cue, and Rachel frowned at them both.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can see you worrying about me. There is nothing wrong with not liking crowds. There doesn’t have to be a reason for it, apart from being mostly introverted. Crowds are stressful to me, they take a lot of energy, nothing else.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Leave it, Jacob. Not everyone likes to perform.’ Rachel shifted away from Allira, who sat down again.

  ‘Perform?’

  ‘Yeah. Both of us are entertainers. Admit it, you love it when the crowd roars for you,’ Rachel said.

  He nodded. He did love that feeling when he kicked a goal and crowd went wild. Every single time, it would send shivers down his spine, and he wanted to do it again and again. He would get old and sore before that sensation got boring.

  ‘And you?’

  She waggled her head, ‘It’s different. I do it for the thrill of going fast. You can’t really hear the crowd when you are on a horse. I feel the rhythm of the horse under me, I can hear the other jockeys yelling, the swish of the whips in the air as everyone tries to find the gaps and push through. The crowd noise is just background, although I’ve never ridden on one of the big days. I bet it’d be amazing to ride down the long straight at Flemington on the first lap of the Cup with a hundred thousand people yelling.’

  ‘I hope you get to experience that one day,’ Allira said. ‘You guys should eat before it gets cold.’

  Rachel glanced down at the coffee table, then flicked a smile his way. ‘I reckon Jacob has eaten most of it already.’

  ‘Hey.’ He protested. He hadn’t eaten everything. ‘There is heaps left.’

  ‘I’m teasing. It’s fine. Thank you for bringing dinner.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Allira said.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I need to call my brother and sort out what he’s doing with Tsuyoi Red.’ Rachel bounded up the stairs, her phone in one hand. Jacob stared after her.

  ‘Keep your eyes off her arse,’ Allira said.

  He blinked, ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve seen the way you look at her, Jacob. She needs a bit of space, not you lusting after her.’

  He swallowed, ‘We’ve already discussed it. I know her boundaries.’ Better than he wanted to. His only hope to get another kiss was to best her in the physical challenge, and the idea of getting sweaty beside her in their team gym was darn hot.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You don’t need to be her guard dog.’

  Allira frowned at him, ‘I’m not. But you didn’t see her that night. She’s more fragile than she shows.’

  ‘I’ve already committed to keeping my distance. I don’t know what else you want from me.’

  ‘Not to pant after her?’

  ‘I don’t …’ he started, and Allira’s eyebrows reached up high on her forehead. ‘Okay, I look, but it’s just looking, damn it. I’m only human.’

  ‘Typical man, you mean.’

  He coughed, ‘And you don’t use your eyes when someone hot is around?’

  ‘Yeah, alright. But keep your hands off her.’

  ‘I promise to do as she asks.’ Jacob couldn’t promise not to touch Rachel, not if she asked, but he could promise to wait until she was ready.

  ‘Guard dog,’ he teased.

  Allira shook her head, ‘Someone has to do it.’ Her smile told him everything was cool between them. He had to keep reminding himself that she was all grown up, not the eight-year-old kid that she was when he left home. It didn’t seem to matter that the evidence was all there, one part of him could never seem to let go of his natural big brother protective instincts.

  Chapter 10

  If Rachel thought winning on Static Alarm had been the most amazing day of her life, it had nothing on winning the Makybe Diva Stakes on Darnation. The opportunity came thanks to the owners of Darnation being upset with his previous loss, ironically in the race where she’d ridden Static Alarm to beat him. The owners had moved Darnation to Shelley Twayne’s stable, and given her the chance to ride him. She’d first been legged up on him on Thursday morning at trackwork, and again yesterday. Not much time to get acquainted with him before the big race, but when the gap opened up with ten strides to go, and she pushed him through it, he responded with everything. Nothing beat the sheer exhilaration of seeing the empty green grass between a horse’s ears and knowing that you’d crossed the line in first place.

  All the hoofbeats and cheering faded as the gap opened, and she had leaned down close against Darnation’s neck. His mane whipped against her cheeks as she asked him to push through the gap, and he responded, his huge lungs drawing in oxygen and his body stretching out towards the finish line. On her outside, another horse ranged up beside her, and she waved her whip in the air between Darnation and the other horse to keep it from leaning on Darnation. She felt her whip brush the other jockey’s leg, a measure of how close they were as they surged together to the line. Darnation’s head was still in front as they passed the finishing post. A few strides after the post, Rachel relaxed and let Darnation slow his speed naturally, allowing him to pull up without risk of injury. The jockey on the second horse leaned over and yelled his congratulations, and she turned her head to thank him with the biggest grin possible on her face. The reins and her whip in one hand, she ran the other gently down Darnation’s mane. She patted his neck and told him what a good horse he was, whispered in his ear what a marvellous horse he was. Everything you’d want, brave, fast, willing, tough—there weren’t enough adjectives to describe him. By the time they reached the back straight, Darnation had slowed to a loose trot, nice and even, and the journalist on horseback had reached them.

  ‘Congratulations. How good was that! Is this your first Group One win?’

  She refused to let his ill-informed comment steal the joy of her win, ‘My second. I won t
he Memsie on Static Alarm a fortnight ago.’

  ‘And now you have a second on Darnation. Talk me through the run.’

  ‘To win on the big stage, in front of everyone, is an amazing feeling. All credit to Darnation—he took the gap when I asked and kept finding when the second horse came up beside him.’

  ‘The trainer, Shelley Twayne, had a good chat with you in the mounting yard. What is it like to ride for her?’

  ‘Amazing. I’m so pleased to get the result after she gave me the opportunity to ride Darnation. I know punters were disappointed with his run, against Static Alarm a fortnight ago, but he brought his A game this week. I think they’ve seen the real Darnation today.’ Rachel deliberately avoided the controversial change of stables and patted the big horse again. He’d earned his carrots today.

  ‘See that big grandstand over there. Now you get to go into the winner’s circle and enjoy this victory.’ The journalist put away his microphone, and Rachel trotted Darnation back to scale. The strapper clipped on the lead rope, and soon she found herself inside a media swarm. She had no idea what she’d said to the cameras shoved in her face as she’d unsaddled the big bay horse. She’d taken an extra moment to make sure she had all her gear before walking the few steps to weigh in, and once the all clear was given, she’d been overwhelmed by more microphones, and journalists all yelling questions.

  ‘This is your first ride on Darnation. Are you grateful for the opportunity?’

  Rachel nodded, ‘Yes, of course, it is an honour to ride a horse of Darnation’s quality. My agent, Matthew—’

  The next question cut off her thanks, ‘That was pretty impressive. He’s a nice horse, isn’t he?’

  ‘Darnation has always shown talent, he was the deserved favourite, and he just kept finding the line today,’ she said.

  ‘Talk us through the run. He looked like he might get beaten on the post.’

  ‘No, he travelled really well, and I honestly thought we were the winners from a long way out. Yanko’s Bride kept finding on the outside of us, but Darnation dug deep and found enough to win,’ she said.

  ‘That was quite a small gap he dove through to win.’

  ‘Yes, he’s something quite special and he responded when I asked him for the effort.’

  ‘You only got the ride because regular jockey Brad Jenkins is injured. Why do you think you deserve any credit for this win?’

  Rachel gasped, ‘Sir, that question is unfair, and I’d like to enjoy this moment first, thanks.’

  ‘On that note, Darnation hasn’t been the punter’s friend lately.’

  ‘Yes, I watched his whole career after accepting this ride as well as rode him in work to get a good handle on him. He’s improved a ton since last year, you know colts can be a bit inconsistent when they are younger, and Darnation seems to have put it together a bit more now. He’s always had the talent.’

  The next question was cut off as the protest siren rang out. Rachel’s shoulders slumped as the clamour from the media grew. She held up her hand, thankful they’d covered this situation at apprentice school years ago.

  ‘I’m sorry. No further comments.’

  She gathered all her gear and headed towards the jockey’s room. The loudspeaker confirmed the protest of second versus first, and she ran back over the final furlong of the race. Yanko’s Bride had leaned on Darnation, not the other way, if anything she was impeded by the second horse. If the world was fair, the placings should stand. But it was her and a female trainer against the racing world, so anything was possible. Shit. She rolled her shoulders and pushed open the door to the jockey’s room, so she could put her saddle and helmet away before facing the steward’s inquiry.

  Rachel finally finished up the day’s work and wandered over to the public stand to see Jacob and his team mates.

  ‘Hey, Lawless, is that your new missus?’ Rachel heard one of Jacob’s team mates say in an overly loud, too-many-drinks voice, as she approached the group. Lawless? She could only see the back of his head, so missed his expression. She didn’t know what expression she’d want to see on his face—pretty much everything was going to be wrong after the kiss that wouldn’t go away.

  No matter how much she tried to convince herself that it was the right thing not to bounce into bed with him, the buzz from one kiss sung like a good memory on her skin. She’d tried to wash it off in the shower, and only ended up pleasuring herself with thoughts of Jacob’s mouth on her where her own fingers played. Was she just rebounding after the shock of Lisa’s cheating? Or was there really something in this electrical connection between her and Jacob? Shit. If it wasn’t for the horses, she wouldn’t have been able to focus today with all this mess soaring around her head. The moment she swung up onto a horse, every other thought disappeared, and it was always just the two of them in partnership. Complete clarity of mind for the ten minutes jogging down to the start, utter focus on every stride for the two minutes of the race, every hoofbeat mattered as they galloped together among the field. And the moment of victory, when all she could see was the horse’s ears and green, green grass—nothing could beat the surge of adrenaline. Not even the best kiss in her extensive history of kisses. Well, fuck. So much for clarity of thought. She blew out a sharp breath as she joined their group.

  ‘Hey boys, did you enjoy your day out?’ She’d won the feature race, she could afford to be happy-go-lucky no matter what they thought of her.

  ‘Yeah, thanks for the tickets.’

  ‘It’s been great.’

  ‘Congratulations on the big win.’

  ‘Thank you, everyone. A shame about the loss last night, you guys had a cracking season.’ She smiled. A random comment about her being Jacob’s girlfriend couldn’t ruin her mood.

  ‘I bet on Darnation. Tops outcome.’ One of Jacob’s team mates stuck his hand out and she shook it. ‘I’m Willem, but they all call me The Palace.’ He had the most amazing icy blue eyes that somehow managed to look happy even though the colour was cold.

  ‘You did so well in there,’ Jacob said.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘The big win makes up for Jacob’s knee.’ The Palace nodded in Jacob’s direction and he shrugged. She’d sent him a commiseration text after the game, and he hadn’t responded. And now his mates labelled her as being with him—how little did they know? Unless they could see the chemistry hovering between them? Shit, she had to stop second-guessing herself. She’d never done that before, always just leaped in feet first. This waiting game was messing with her head. Why was she doing this to herself? She breathed in. To make sure she didn’t end up with another fuckwit, that’s why. Sometimes the bravest thing was not to leap without looking.

  ‘I have a few months to rest it now,’ Jacob said, dismissively. Rachel glanced askance at him, and his return look said later. She blinked away the crap racing around her head and tried to focus on the conversation.

  ‘I thought you did a great job in there. It’s amazing how they televise the protests like that. It was pretty brutal,’ The Palace said.

  Rachel agreed, ‘It was a nonsense protest. Anyone could see that Yanko’s Bride laid in on Darnation. It’s annoying that it took the stewards so long to figure that out.’ Rachel didn’t want to ruin Jacob’s team mates’ day with a rant about the male domination of the racing industry. Or ruin her own day. She’d already wasted too much of the day stressing about Jacob, rather than just enjoying the thrill of winning. Besides, they were all blokes, they wouldn’t get it anyway. She rubbed the corner of her eye.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jacob asked.

  ‘Yeah, just tired. It’s been a big day.’ Having to fight to keep her Group One win really sapped her energy levels, it was damned exhausting having to prove that she’d done everything right, had been on the better horse, and had won fairly. And then to discover …

  ‘Hey,’ The Palace butted into her thoughts, ‘Who was that guy beside you outside the protest room?’

  ‘Why?’ She really didn’t want t
o spend any more time thinking about fucking Driscoll, who’d spat abuse at her while making threatening gestures with his arms. Shelley, her agent Matthew, and some of the media had helped hold him out of her way, and she’d later found out that he owned a share in Yanko’s Bride. If it hadn’t been so tense, she would have laughed, manically, at beating him.

  ‘He looks familiar.’

  She blew out a hard sigh. ‘His name is Harrison Driscoll. He’s one of those new city investors in racing that crop up every now and then. He’s been buying into a lot of nice fillies, so perhaps he wants to start a breeding empire.’ She held back a cynical laugh—so many people thought getting into horses was a fast way to make money, and nearly all of them failed because they didn’t have the horse skills. ‘He has a share in Yanko’s Bride.’

  ‘The horse that ran second?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve met him a few times before and he’s an obnoxious piece of work. I’d bet he pushed the trainer to protest even though it was obvious it was Yanko’s Bride leaning on me.’

  The Palace tapped his rolled-up form guide against his thigh. ‘Where have I seen him before?’

  ‘Sponsor’s meeting? They let all sorts of banking types come along to those “meet the team” events,’ Jacob asked.

  ‘Nah, I don’t reckon. It’s …’ There was a long pause as The Palace narrowed his amazingly coloured eyes. Rachel held her head high, she wasn’t one to be intimidated by something as ridiculous as eye colour. It wasn’t like he could help it. She much preferred brown eyes, ones that shined bright as they looked at her. Shit, she had it bad for Jacob. She tried not to let her shoulder’s slump and stiffened her spine purposefully.

  Jacob shook his head, ‘It’ll come to you at midnight.’

  Rachel blinked quickly until she realised Jacob was talking to The Palace, not about spending time with her at midnight. She eased out a wobbly breath.

  ‘Yeah, you are probably right. I’m sure it’s not important,’ The Palace said.

  ‘Hey boys,’ one of the other team mates joined the conversation, ‘they are shutting the bar soon. Shall we go to the pub across the road?’