That’s when a beefy guy wearing a wrestling T-shirt comes over. “I’m Brent,” he slurs in my ear.
“Oh yeah?” His hot beer breath on my skin makes me shiver—and not in the good way.
The guy cups my elbow. “Want to get out of here, new girl?”
“No, thanks.”
“But you’re hot.” He spills beer on my boot. I give Vanessa a look that says “is this guy smoking something?” and she rolls her eyes.
“Get lost, Brent,” she says, sipping from her cup.
“You got a boyfriend?” Brent clamps his hand on my arm.
I want a boyfriend—I really do, but I want somebody who likes me for me, not because I’m the new girl. I can’t think of a good word to describe how this Brent guy makes me feel. Resentful? Flattered and angry? Flangry.
“Let go,” I say, yanking my arm away from this drunk King Kong.
“Is there a problem here?” a low, rough voice says. Jack gently pulls me away from Brent, loosely wrapping an arm around me. “We’re good here,” Jack says pointedly, and Brent skedaddles toward the trucks. So much for Mr. Macho Wrestling T-shirt.
Jack touches my wrist, and the sensation of his skin on mine sends shivers up my arm. In the good way. Our eyes meet.
I pull a purple sucker out of my pocket and pop it in my mouth. I’m pissed at myself for being attracted to a rich boy. I turn to focus on anything else but him.
Great. Now everyone at this party is looking at me. Way to make a good impression before school starts, Savannah.
“You okay now?” Jack asks me quietly. When I nod, he pats my shoulder and rejoins Kelsey over on their log. She grabs his hand and threads her fingers between his, but he keeps staring at me. His gaze makes me nervous.
What if Jack had gotten into a fight with that stupid Brent kid and Brent punched him out? What if Mr. Goodwin had blamed me? What if Mr. Goodwin fires my dad before we even unpack our winter clothes?
With a new baby on the way, we can’t afford to lose the free housing. Plus, this job is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to my father. He’s proud of it, and I want to help him succeed at Cedar Hill.
I resolve not to cause Jack Goodwin any problems from now on.
Rory reappears, drops a hand on my shoulder, and smiles at Vanessa. “Ladies, I have a surprise. Come with me.” He ushers us down to the pond at the end of the big field. Ava barks happily and runs in circles.
“What’s the surprise?” I ask, bouncing on my toes.
Rory grins then pulls up his shirt, revealing a muscular back and torso.
“The surprise is you’re doing a striptease?” I ask. Vanessa glances at Rory’s body. Then she does a double take before taking another sip of beer.
Two boxes are sticking out of his jeans. Sparklers! I squeal and run toward him. Smiling, he gives me a sparkler and pulls a lighter from his pocket. He lights it and I twirl in a circle, sucking on my purple sucker, watching my sparkler spit out green and red sparkly goodness, relishing the smell of summer on the air.
“Can I have one?” Vanessa asks. Rory stares at her for a sec before whipping a sparkler out of the box and lighting it for her.
“I’m a witch!” she yells, laughing, pretending her sparkler is a wand.
“Witches are sexy,” Rory mumbles to me, not taking his eyes off Vanessa.
While we play with our sparklers, Rory starts launching bottle rockets. I love fireworks. You never know what’s going to happen when they explode in the dark sky. Will it be a giant burst of light or just a dud? Will sparks rain down like glitter?
Jack touching me just now was like fireworks exploding right in my face. It was so, so dangerous.
But the colors were so real.
Chapter 5. At the Races
Today I find out if I got the exercise boy job.
But first I have to ride a horse that doesn’t like being ridden. A horse that bucks all his riders. Sure, I had luck with him when he escaped yesterday, but can I strike the jackpot twice?
We’re at the barns at River Downs in Cincinnati, and the races start in a couple hours. Dad is standing off to the side, looking worried. I ignore him and concentrate on steadying my heartbeat. I tighten my gloves and pull a deep breath as Rory leads Star toward me. All I have to do is take Star through two warm-up laps and one at a full breeze. I can do this.
I suck in long breaths, working to rid my body of tension. If Star thinks I’m nervous, he’s gonna be scared, and I’ve gotta show him that I’m in charge.
Rory stops about ten feet from me and attempts to hold Star still, but he’s prancing and acting skittish. I charge toward Star with confidence and purpose. I rub his face and he whinnies for a sec, and then he sighs and lips my hair. I straighten his front leg so he will be easier to mount.
“You got this?” Rory asks, mimicking my dad’s expression.
“I got this,” I say, moving to the near side to mount. Rory hands me the reins, I get a leg up from him, grab the horse’s mane, throw my other leg over his back, and slip my feet into the stirrups. Star prances in a circle and jerks away from Rory, and I might go flying.
“Whoa!” I say, and Star snorts. “Whoa.”
I cluck my tongue and trot onto the practice track. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Dad joins Jack, Mr. Goodwin, and Gael in the clocker’s tower. Jack waves and whistles, and suddenly I’m not so nervous. We circle the track twice at an easy speed and then it’s time for the real show. I push the horse to a full gallop. Wind rushes against my face. We must be going forty-five miles an hour. That’s well past the speed limit on the four-lane back in Franklin.
“Go,” I shout to Star, gripping the reins tight. We fly around the track. I’m standing hunched over as I make the far turn, urging the horse faster. My guess is that Star starts slow but makes up his speed later, and now’s when it counts. “Go, Star! You got this!” Ten seconds later we cross the finish line, and I bring the colt to a jog, patting his neck and smiling my brains out.
Jack is clapping and beaming.
“Time?” I call out to Gael.
Gael rubs his chin. “1:40. It’s not completely terrible.”
I pump my fist. To hear him say it wasn’t complete shit must mean the horse did pretty well. I steer Star over to the hot-walkers ring, dismount, and hand him off to Dad.
“If he runs like this later today, he’ll win for sure,” Dad says, stroking the colt’s mane, trying to get him to calm down. Star’s ears twitch and point forward.
I get up on tiptoes to kiss my father’s cheek, making him smile. “Do you think I’ll get the job?”
“I’d wait until after the race to bring it up to Jack. He seems nervous out of his mind right now. But yeah, I’d say you’ve got the job if you want it.”
I kiss Dad’s cheek again then make my way toward the barns, my red braid bouncing against my back.
I’m super excited about Star’s prospects for today but tired as hell. I shouldn’t have stayed out past midnight when I had to get up at 5:00 a.m. for the four-hour drive. I spend the next couple of hours helping Dad and Rory in the barns, feeding the six horses and lead ponies we brought with us, keeping them calm. Exercise riders typically don’t help in the barns, but I don’t mind. I love being around horses.
When it’s time for Minerva’s race, I go with Rory to the paddock to help put her saddle on. When she’s ready, Rory goes back to the barn and I start walking Minerva in a circle. Not only does this calm her down, it’s a chance for spectators watching the race to check out the horses. They get to see which horses are looking good, which ones are moody, which ones have too many bandages on their front legs, and which ones are clearly injured.