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Jo pressed her hand to her chest, where a strong surge of emotion throbbed. She, of all people, knew how much could transpire in the two minutes or less that comprised the Derby. Lives were made or broken on the racetrack in the flash of a millisecond. But she’d never anticipated her heart opening so quickly to a man she barely knew . . . but whom her heart insisted she’d known forever.
Jo wiped her eyes and exited the truck, trying not to focus on the layers of obstacles today’s events had introduced. Instead, she strode purposefully toward the back of the main house and focused on what needed to be done now.
To beat Spencer on the track—and hopefully in whatever other way Brooks sought to achieve—they needed to form a team, formulate a plan, and put both to action as soon as possible. And she needed to get Another Round into the best shape of his life, prepare him for the competition that lay ahead, and foster his passion for running to enable him to cross the finish line first.
It had been years since she’d trained. She just hoped she still had it in her.
“There she is.” Frankie, seated on the newly built deck attached to the back of the main house, smiled and waved as Jo walked up the ramp toward her. “We’ve been wondering where you were.” She looked at Earl, who sat in his wheelchair beside her, a small smile on his face and his head tilted toward the sun. “Earl had a hefty breakfast and felt pretty good today, so we decided to give this deck of y’all’s a try. I think he’s taken a liking to it.”
Earl looked up at Jo and raised his hand toward her. “Beautiful.”
The tears she’d fought earlier returned, and Jo blinked hard as she pulled a lawn chair over and sat in it beside Earl. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, covering his hand with hers on the wheelchair’s armrest. “It was Brooks’s idea. He wanted you to be able to feel the sun on your face and have a nice view of the horses.”
Earl, his eyes brightening, nodded and lifted his hand again, pointing at Cheyenne, who stood in the pasture in front of them, leaning against the rail, watching Another Round graze. “Beautiful,” he repeated.
“That kid’s giving me whiplash with her moods,” Frankie mused, a small grin flickering across her mouth. “She’s like a completely different kid now that you’ve introduced her to Another Round. Earl has had a hard time taking his eyes off that thoroughbred ever since Cheyenne finished up his grooming session an hour ago.”
Jo studied Cheyenne, noting her relaxed stance and the peaceful expression on her face as her eyes followed Another Round, admiring his every movement . . . and possibly her handiwork.
“Cheyenne is proud of herself,” Jo said, smiling. “As well she should be. She was very attentive this morning. She listened closely and followed my directions well. I think she could be an excellent groom and stable hand if she decides to be. She seems to love thoroughbreds.”
Frankie laughed. “Too bad her online classes don’t deal with them. Matter of fact, if they had horses at that school she was attending, she probably wouldn’t be in the predicament she’s in now. And she certainly wouldn’t have had time to get herself into the trouble that obligated her to serve community service hours.”
Jo shook her head. “No. Cheyenne probably would have taken a completely different path had something sparked her interest the way Another Round has. Some kids aren’t meant for four walls and stifling, standardized restrictions. Sometimes open space, fresh air, and autonomy are more effective than any academic lesson in a classroom.”
“Seems that way,” Frankie said. “It’s a good sign for your new plans, isn’t it? I mean, if Cheyenne can find healing here, anyone can, right?”
Jo bit her lip, glancing at Frankie and then Earl. “Speaking of plans, that’s what I wanted to talk to you both about. I just came from Brooks’s place.”
“Oh, yeah?” Frankie asked. “I thought that might be where you’d gotten off to. Does he have any other surprises for us?” She grinned. “Hopefully, not another foster child yet. I think our hands will be full with Cheyenne for a while.”
Jo shook her head. “Actually, I had a surprise for him. I’ve agreed to train Another Round.”
Earl, who’d watched her silently, returned his attention to Another Round, then glanced up at her, his eyes widening with surprise and what she suspected was excitement. “T-train?”
“You’ve agreed?” Frankie slid to the edge of her chair, a mixture of surprise and confusion in her expression. “But . . . you were adamant that it wasn’t something you wanted to do.” A hard glint flashed in her eyes. “Is Brooks holding something over your head? I know he’s been very helpful to us, but it’s not worth accepting his help if it means—”
“No,” Jo said. “Brooks had very little to do with it. Did Cheyenne mention to you that we had a visitor this morning?”
Frankie nodded, her lips twisting. “She said some rich-looking dude stopped in and was asking about Another Round. Someone looking to buy him?”
Jo looked down, her hands fidgeting in her lap, wondering exactly how much to share in front of Earl. “Our visitor was Spencer Harris. And he wasn’t interested in Another Round so much as he was interested in my association with Brooks.”
A look of dismay crossed Frankie’s features, and Earl, staring at her silently, frowned, too.
“The bottom line is this,” Jo said. “Spencer has caused a lot of trouble for Brooks over the years and there’s bad blood between them. The man seems determined to make life difficult for Brooks and, I assume, the intention is mutual for Brooks.” She looked at Earl, her tone hesitant. “I could walk away from that—from a disagreement between two men, I mean. But Spencer mentioned Lone Oaks Crossing’s financial troubles this morning. And from the impression I got of him, he would have no qualms about taking this farm away from us if it meant hurting Brooks.”
Earl’s hands clenched the arms of his wheelchair and a muscle in his jaw ticked.
“He threatened in a veiled way to make things difficult for us if I didn’t walk away from Brooks and his thoroughbred.” She looked at Earl then, her eyes appealing to his. “I know the last thing we need is risk right now, but Brooks has done a lot for us. And,” she whispered, looking down, “he’s a good man that I’ve grown to admire. I think it’s time we returned the favor.”
Earl’s expression changed. He leaned closer, a fierce light in his eyes and a proud smile stretching across his face. “Get Lee. You . . . train him.”
Jo reached out and cupped Earl’s cheek in her palm, her voice firm and encouraging. “No,” she said softly. “I’ll find Lee, and then we’ll train him. Together, like the winning team we used to be.”
CHAPTER 9
The next morning, five minutes after the sun rose, Brooks drove up the long driveway of Lone Oaks Crossing and parked his truck in front of the main house. Before he could exit the cab, Jo had already opened the passenger door, hopped in, shut the door, and pointed back to the driveway.
