The Horsewoman(52)

“We may have some breaking news here,” she said to Daniel, who was talking on his phone.

“I need to call you back,” he said, then ended the call to listen to Maggie’s theory on Sky and the Olympics.

Daniel looked at me.

“What do you say about this?” he said.

“You first,” I said.

“Your mother is absolutely right,” he said.

“Ha!” Mom said. “There you have it.”

“Wait,” Daniel said. “I have news of my own I want you both to hear. I was about to come up the hill and tell you.”

Daniel was never easy to read, but whatever was on his mind was serious business.

“I have been doing a lot of thinking since the other night,” he said. “And once Becky was back, I was going to wait a few days. But there is no longer any point in waiting.”

He turned to Mom then.

“You are going to need to find another trainer,” Daniel said.

“Excuse me?” Mom said. She tilted her head, and curiously raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, but have you suddenly inherited your own barn, Daniel?”

“I’m the one who is sorry,” he said. “But I only want to train Becky.”

“No,” Mom said.





SIXTY

Gorton



STEVE GORTON AND Tyler Cullen were seated at Gorton’s table in the tent at the International Arena. Before buying the top-tier table for the season, Gorton had checked its location, a little closer to the ring than Bloomberg’s table and the one that belonged to Bill Gates.

It was a few minutes after twelve. The breakfast crowd had already cleared out. The waitstaff was setting up for lunch, which would be followed by some afternoon event in the arena. Gorton couldn’t have said what kind if somebody stuck a gun in his ear.

“Wait,” Cullen said. “Nobody told you that Maggie was back in the old saddle?”

“No one did,” Gorton said. “You say it just happened yesterday?”

Cullen nodded.

“How did you find out so quickly?”

“I make it my business to know,” Cullen grinned and said, “but maybe the owner of the horse is the last to know.”

God, Gorton thought, he is a cocky little bastard. But maybe that’s what made him such a good rider. He’d invested in a few movies and been around enough stars to know how much shit directors and studios were willing to put up with from them.

“This might actually help you get all three of those women out of your life,” Cullen said.

“Why is that?”

“Because Maggie has no shot at winning on that horse, that’s why,” Cullen said.

Gorton sipped his Bloody Mary. Cullen had coffee in front of him. He was in his riding clothes, having told Gorton he was only schooling today—whatever the hell that meant—and due back to his ring in a few minutes.

“You’re full of shit,” Gorton said. “You don’t know she can’t win.”

“Yeah, boss,” Cullen said, “as a matter of fact I do. Maybe she’s back in form by the fall, if she’s lucky and doesn’t break her ass again. But not before. Nobody comes back this fast. Don’t ask me. Ask anybody. Trust me: The rider you thought you wanted in the first place isn’t the rider you want now.”

“Is that so?” Gorton said.

Cullen nodded. “You want to hear something funny?”

“Yeah, Cullen,” Gorton said. “You can probably see how much I want you to amuse the living shit out of me.”

“Not funny, actually,” Cullen said. “More ironic. Because as much as it pains me to admit it, the kid is the better rider.”

“Son of a bitch!” Gorton said, loud enough to turn heads at nearby tables. “I’d rather lose without that kid than win with her.”

He finished his Bloody Mary.

“I could be boxed in here,” he said. “And I effing hate being boxed in.”

“Yeah,” Cullen said. The smug grin again. “It’s not like you’re Steve Gorton or anything.”

“Let me ask you something,” Gorton said. “Say I can figure this out and get rid of them both once and for all and get you on the horse without looking like I threw brave little Maggie under the bus, what about the horse you’re on now, and your owner, what’s-his-name?”

“You give me a shot at Coronado,” Cullen said, “and let me worry about the rest of it.”

“You’d sell him out?”

“I’d sell my mother out,” Cullen said.

Gorton said, “If everything else does turn to shit, and I’m with one or the other, we still need a Plan B.”

“Still working on it,” Cullen said.

“Work harder,” Gorton said.

“I hear you.”

“You better,” Gorton said. “You’ve got a lot riding on this, too. So to speak.”

“Hear that,” Cullen said. “Some money might have to change hands.”

Gorton smiled. “Now we’re talking about my sport,” he said.

Cullen stood up.

“Even you sometimes forget that you’re the one who tells people how this shit is going to go,” Tyler Cullen said. “Not the other way around.”