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Earl, who’d ventured out onto the back deck, walking slowly and carefully as he’d practiced in PT, had shouted down that Brooks should keep his hands and eyes off Jo and on his horse instead.
At the time, Jo could’ve died from the mortification of being chastised by her grandfather as though she and Brooks were teenagers stealing a passionate moment under a parent’s watchful gaze. But at the same time, she delighted in the moment, realizing that Brooks had seemingly developed the same attraction to her as she felt for him.
Her fears of three months ago had eased just a bit, leading her to hope that he might be willing to redirect his focus from revenge on Spencer to loving her instead.
“I think he’s paying me a lot as his trainer,” Jo said. “So I’m guessing he’s keeping an eye on me to make sure I’m getting the job done.”
“Uh-huh,” Frankie said, chuckling. “You keep telling yourself that if you want, but it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice around here that you two have taken a liking to one another.”
“I never said we haven’t. But Brooks is of the same mind as Earl,” Jo continued. “He agrees that business should come first, and his focus is on Another Round qualifying for the Derby.”
Though that prospect seemed to grow farther out of reach with each of Another Round’s losses. Since the Gun Runner race in New Orleans, Another Round had continued to place last in every race, dashing Brooks’s hopes of possessing a winning thoroughbred.
Jo glanced over her shoulder as Another Round galloped along the track without encouragement from Lee. But Another Round was a winning thoroughbred and displayed his natural talents every day when training at Lone Oaks Crossing. He just couldn’t seem to transfer that performance to a formal racetrack.
Apparently, the colt suffered from stage fright. It was a shame that the thoroughbred had been unable to overcome his fears of the track to perform at his best. Here at Lone Oaks Crossing, he ran fast and free without any tension or prompting.
“I’m afraid Brooks may be in for a disappointment,” Jo said softly. “We’re about a month away from the Derby, and at the moment, Another Round has zero wins to his name. And zero winning points, I might add.”
Frankie frowned. “And how many points are on the line with this Jeff Ruby race coming up?”
“More than enough to qualify a thoroughbred for the Derby,” Jo said. “The first-place finisher is awarded one hundred points, second gets forty, third gets thirty, then twenty and ten respectively. Another Round needs to finish in at least second position to have even a remote shot at qualifying for the Derby. In addition to that, he’d need to place in at least one more race in April as well. Pairing an additional win with a second-place finish at the Jeff Ruby would be our next best shot at qualifying for the Derby.”
“And what would be our best shot?” Frankie asked.
Jo closed her eyes, visualizing what could only be called a dream at this point, considering Another Round’s prior performances on the track. “A first-place finish in the Jeff Ruby would be ideal. One hundred points would pretty much guarantee us a spot on the track at Churchill Downs.”
Frankie sighed and looked at Brooks again. “And if Another Round comes in last again? What would be Brooks’s game plan after that?”
Jo shook her head, eyeing Brooks, who stood on the deck, his eyes following Another Round now as he galloped around the track. “I don’t know. But I imagine his plan would change drastically.”
The question that bothered Jo was whether Brooks’s new plan would include her.
* * *
One week later, the stakes at the Jeff Ruby race could not have been higher. Jo stood beside Brooks in the walking ring, just prior to starting time, and watched as Another Round circled in front of the crowd.
“How’s he looking today?” Brooks asked quietly. “Is he showing any improvement over the last race?”
Jo hesitated, knowing how much today’s performance on the track meant to Brooks. “I’d say he looks the same.” She glanced up at Brooks, noting the way the lines of tension bracketing his mouth deepened. “But things could change, you know? Anything can happen once he leaves the starting gate.”
The words were true, but Jo still had trouble believing them herself.
Almost every day since Brooks had watched Another Round’s workout with Lee from the deck, Another Round had delivered similar performances on the track at the farm. Each time his feet hit the dirt, he’d taken off with purpose and passion. Another Round had been in his element, racing like the born winner Brooks had once suspected he would be.
But considering the colt’s disappointing finishes in the past, Jo had little hope that the thoroughbred would overcome his stage fright and run freely on the synthetic track of Turfway Park, which hosted the day’s race.
“I don’t believe you,” Brooks said. He glanced about at the crowd surrounding the walking ring, then ducked his head and whispered in her ear, “You say the words but they hold no conviction. I know you well enough to know when you’re holding back on me.”
Jo leaned toward him just a bit as she eyed Another Round circling the ring. “Then you know there’s more I’d like to say that you’d probably rather not hear.”
His head turned slightly, just enough that his nose brushed her cheek. “And that would be . . . ?”
“Would it be so bad?” She glanced up, holding his gaze. “Putting this behind you? Taking Another Round home and letting him continue to run for enjoyment rather than money and prestige?”
Brooks stared back at her, his eyes roving over her face, a flash of something akin to longing showing in his expression, disappearing almost as soon as it had appeared. “That’s not part of my plan.” He straightened, the emotion fading from his expression as he fixed his gaze on Another Round again. “There are other races besides this one. Win or lose today, we could still make it happen.”
Jo nodded. “There are always other races. And I suspect there’ll always be opportunities for disagreements, wins and losses, and more feuds. What I’m asking is whether you’ve ever considered putting all of that aside and embracing a new plan.”
