The Horsewoman(38)

“Wait,” I said, “you’re a lawyer.”

He put a finger to his lips.

“Don’t let that get around,” he said.

As nervous as I was, I laughed. It felt good. He was never around, my dad, at least not enough to suit me. I didn’t get to New York as much as I’d like to. But he was here now. All that mattered.

We were both silent then. I looked down at my phone to check the time.

“So how are you doing, really?” he said.

“Other than being scared out of my mind right now?”

“Yeah.”

“I actually like my chances tonight, crazy as that sounds,” I said.

“Doesn’t sound crazy to me,” he said. “I’ve seen you ride.”

“It’s mostly because of the way we finished on Thursday,” I said. “I honestly think I’ve got more horse than anybody.”

When the PA announcer welcomed everybody to the $500,000 Longines Grand Prix, I said, “Now it’s time for me to put my game face on.”

The two of us walked down Vendor Row and were about to head into the tent when one of the golf carts that shuttled guests from the VIP parking lot pulled up and Steve Gorton got out with a blonde almost as tall as he was who looked about my age.

Not now, I thought.

Dad and I felt obligated to walk over to him. He introduced his date as Blaine. I introduced both of them to Jack McCabe.

“Heard a lot about you,” Dad said to Gorton.

Gorton looked at him, then at me, then back at him. Grinning. “Well that can’t possibly be good for me,” he said. “Don’t believe everything she says about me. No matter what she told you, I never slashed the tires of her car.”

I said I had to meet Daniel at the ring and get up on my horse. Dad kissed me on the cheek and wished me luck. For once Steve Gorton didn’t have much choice but to do the same.

I was about to make the turn toward the pedestrian bridge when I stopped and turned around. Blaine must have already gone inside.

Just my dad and Steve Gorton now.

Then I saw Dad lean close to Gorton and say something into his ear and pat him on the shoulder before leaving him there, Gorton staring at Dad’s back until he disappeared into the tent.





FORTY-ONE



THURSDAY HAD BEEN all about getting to the Grand Prix. Tonight’s first order of business was to get to the jump-off.

“How do you feel?” Daniel said after Coronado and I had done some light jumping in the ring.

“Like I want to throw up,” I said.

“I’m being serious,” he said, as if Daniel Ortega were ever anything but.

“So am I,” I said.

“Matthew next, followed by Andrew Welles,” the starter said. “Then Rich.”

Rich Grayson. Appropriate first name. His father was the fourth or fifth wealthiest guy in the country.

He’ll be fine wherever he finishes tonight, I thought. Or doesn’t finish.

He’ll be pissed. He’s as competitive as I am. But his life won’t change at all.

“Then Tyler four,” the starter said, “Eric five. Becky six.”

“Just a little more jumping, please,” Daniel said. “Don’t forget to use your legs as well as your hands.”

If I wasn’t calm, he was. It made me feel better. The way seeing Dad had made me feel better. The two men in my life, I thought. Only one of them official.

Maybe Daniel and I would never be official. But I was glad he was here. He was smart. He was good. He only wanted the best for me. And even though I hated to admit it, he probably did know me better than I knew myself.

After Daniel signaled me to stop, I walked Coronado over to the fence.

“At least I haven’t seen Gorton down here,” I said.

“He is not even worth thinking about right now,” Daniel said. “He does not matter. The course matters. It is difficult, but it is fair.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But the jump-off was designed by some sick, twisted monster.”

“What jump-off?” he said.

Daniel being Daniel. He was telling me that all that mattered in the world right now were the next sixteen jumps.

“Eric next,” the starter said. “Then Becky.”

Time coming at me fast now.

“Breathe,” Daniel said.

“Easy for you to say,” I said.

I heard a cheer from inside the International, then a groan, then heard the PA announcer saying that Eric Glynn had gone clean until the last jump.

The in-gate now for Coronado and me. Daniel next to us. I heard the announcer say Coronado was next in the ring, and then we walked out there and went into a trot around the outside of the course. Then I slowed him down to a walk and took one last look at the course, using a finger to map it out in the air in front of me.

We headed for the first jump. When we were six strides out, I heard the buzzer, which meant I’d passed the sensor and the clock was starting.

Cleared the first one.

Then the second.

We were into it now.

Sometimes a rider knew how much horse was under saddle on a given night. And sometimes it was a charade leading up to a big, hot mess.

Tonight I knew.

I knew.

The first combination came up on us now, right in the middle of the course. About the same place where I’d given Coronado a crap distance and he’d plowed through the jump and stopped and sent me flying.