Golden Filly Collection One (30 page)

Firefly won that afternoon.
Maybe this is God’s way of helping us out right now. Giving us the money we need.
Her thoughts leapfrogged ahead of her feet as she walked back to the dressing room to change for the next race.
Just now we need horses that are able to win, and we have them. And I can ride, so we don’t need to pay jockey fees.
She shook her head.
Amazing.

“If you can get her in the money at all, I’ll be pleased,” Jason Rodgers said as he boosted Trish into the saddle for the seventh race. “There’s a tough field out there.”

“Well, old girl,” Trish said as she stroked her mount’s neck on the way back to the scale. “I know you did your best, so it’s a good thing your boss will be happy with a show. Third place isn’t my favorite, but…guess it’s better than no money at all.”

“Good job.” Rodgers shook Trish’s hand. “I have two on Wednesday’s program. Both late in the day. Can you ride them?”

“I think so, but I’ll let you know later this evening.”

“That’s fine. Sure was good to see Hal here yesterday. Tell him hello for me. He got away before I could get to him.”

Trish felt that familiar pride straighten her tired shoulders. She had to remember to tell her dad what Genie had said. It was a shame he couldn’t have been there to see Firefly win, but yesterday had worn him out.

Marge had dinner ready to put on the table when Trish and David walked in the door. Trish couldn’t believe her eyes when she sat down. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy—her mother must have spent all afternoon cooking.

“Smells wonderful!” Hal laid his napkin in his lap. After grace he raised his head and looked at Trish. “Now, tell me how the day went.”

Trish talked between bites. “Mom, this is so-o-o good.” She and David related all the happenings of the afternoon, and Trish finished with Genie’s comments. “She said you’ve helped lots of people when they needed it.”

“I just do what I can.” Hal leaned back in his chair. “You know we’ve always shared what we have. And God’s been good to us.”

Trish looked at her father. His plaid shirt hung loosely on his oncebroad shoulders. The circles under his eyes had deepened to dark hollows. Even his thin hair seemed to have grayed, matching the lines in his face. And purple and black bruises covered the back of one hand from the IVs. After all he’d been through the last couple of months, her dad could say, “God’s been good to us.”
Maybe he means for the past—not for now.

“I mean it, Tee.” He seemed to read her mind. “God is good to us right now—today and every day. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Trish nodded. Saying thanks for winning was easy. But her father said thanks no matter what.

“Now. How many mounts have you been offered this week?”

Trish told him about the offers. “But I said I’d let them know tonight.” She looked at her mother. “And while I have more studying, my chemistry is caught up. I’m okay for this week.”

“So far.” Marge sipped her coffee. “See if you can get to bed early tonight.”

“What about the rumors you mentioned, David?” Hal pushed his chair back. “Let’s go in the other room where the chairs are more comfortable.”

“Diego wondered if you were considering Spitfire for the first Saturday in May. He said to call him if there was any way he could help.”

Trish snuggled against the pillow she’d stuffed between her back and the stones of the hearth. “Genie asked the same thing. We’ve said this is our year.”

“I know.” Hal sighed. “I just…well, we have to take one step at a time. The Futurity is the next milestone. That’s a mile and an eighth, close to the Derby. Spitfire needs plenty of conditioning to run that far.”

Trish sizzled with excitement. “You mean we’re gonna try for it?”

“God only knows, Tee. God only knows.”

Chapter

10

S
o. What all happened?” Rhonda blocked her way in the school hall.

“Well, I won.”

“All right!”

“Three times.”

“Three times? On who?”

“Spitfire, Gatesby, and Firefly. Got a second and a third on the other two.” Trish twirled the dial on her locker. “And I have two rides for Wednesday.”

“Did you tell your dad…about the…”

“Extra racing? Yes.”

“And you’re still alive—and still riding? Trish, for crying out loud, quit stalling and start talking.”

“And start walking.” Brad wrapped an arm about each of them and herded them toward the lunchroom. “I’m starved.”

It took the entire lunch period to fill her friends in on all the details. Brad added a few of his own. “And so,” Trish finished, “we start seriously training Spitfire for the Futurity and then we’ll see about…”

“The first Saturday in May?” Rhonda couldn’t stand still and remain cool. Brad finally put both hands on her shoulders to calm her down.

The bell rang. Rhonda hugged Trish and dashed off.

Trish had to order her mind to quit dreaming of the Derby. Her classes came first. She needed every bit of concentration she could scare up.

When she got home, Trish found her father in the recliner reading his Bible. He put it down when she entered the living room. “Come sit here a minute.” He patted the hearth in front of the snapping fire.

“Wait a sec.” Trish raised her book bag. In the bedroom she dropped her load beside the cluttered desk. Her room seemed to grow piles of clothes when she wasn’t looking. She shut her eyes on the mess and went back to her dad by way of the kitchen for milk and an apple.

“How was your day, Trish?”

“Good.” She offered him a bite of her apple. “Finals are this week, so the teachers kind of let up today.”

“I’ve been thinking about the logistics around here. You need to get your driver’s license so people don’t have to keep hauling you around.”

“All right!” Trish’s grin nearly cracked her jaw.

“Do you have time to take the test soon?”

“Well, my chemistry final on Thursday is my last hard one. I only have history on Friday, so Thursday afternoon would work. We have Anderson’s horse running on Friday and I have one other mount.”

“Fine. Your mother will pick you up at school on Thursday afternoon, then.” Hal returned her grin. “Just make sure you pass the first time.”

“Da-a-d.” She drained her glass of milk. “Gotta go work those beasts. You been down to see Miss Tee yet? She’s really growing.”

Hal shook his head. “I’ll be down to watch tomorrow afternoon.”

Trish spent the week studying. Every spare minute she reviewed Spanish vocabulary, chemistry symbols, and Shakespeare for English. Her two mounts on Wednesday finished in the money but not the winner’s circle. While she was disappointed, Bob Diego congratulated her for good rides. He offered her two more on Saturday and one on Sunday.

“Sorry you can’t ride during the day,” he said. “I’d like you up on Friday afternoon.”

“Me too.”

Another trainer asked Trish to ride on Saturday.

I’m going to have to keep a calendar,
Trish thought on the way home.
In fact, I need to be better organized. Somehow, I’ve got to keep my room clean. That’d make Mom happier than anything…other than quitting my racing, that is.

Trish was up till three Thursday morning. Even though David coached her in the evening, she felt she hadn’t done enough. All the equations and symbols ran together—mixed with racing times, and how many feet one must dim the car lights for an oncoming vehicle.

Trish slept right through her alarm. When she finally heard the insistent buzzer, the clock read 7:10.

“Trish, you’re going to be late.”

“I’m up.”

“That’s what you said fifteen minutes ago.” Marge wiped her hands on a dish towel as she leaned against the door frame.

“I did?” Trish shook her head and tried to blink her eyes open. “I don’t remember.”

“How can you stand…” Marge cut off her words, but Trish knew what she wanted to say. One glance at her mother’s face after seeing her totalled room said it all.

Not today. Not this week.
Trish stumbled down the hall to the shower.
Maybe I’ll have time to clean it up Saturday.

The hot shower helped wake her up, but her eyes still felt gritty, as if she had to force her eyelids to stay open.

“Control to Trish, come in, Trish,” David teased her in the car.

“Umm-mmm,” Trish yawned for the umpteenth time. “I should go out and run the track.” She picked up her book bag. “I just can’t wake up.”

“I noticed.”

She felt good about her Spanish test. The essay went well too. But she felt totally defeated by the chemistry test.
Why can’t I get this stuff?
Tears of frustration pricked the backs of her eyelids.
I’ve never studied so hard for anything in my life.
She slumped into her seat in history class. The hour was slated for review, with the teacher answering questions and approving topics for term papers next quarter. Trish opened her book. Panic swept over her. She hadn’t even thought of a topic yet.

Half an hour later the teacher shook her awake.

“I’ll have to call your parents right after school,” she warned. “You’re just too tired, Trish. Something has to give.”

Trish just shook her head and muttered as she left the room. She felt like slamming her fist into her locker door when it wouldn’t open. A perfect end to a perfect day? Right!

Trish waved at Rhonda and Brad, then tossed her book bag in the back seat of the family car.

“Feel like driving?” Marge opened the door and stepped out.

“I guess so.”

“Pretty bad day, huh?”

Trish just nodded as she slid into the driver’s seat. The nagger added to her weariness.
You better tell her. You know you promised.
Trish felt like twisting his scrawny neck, if he had such a thing.
I planned on it,
she answered.
Give me a break, will ya?
She bit her lip. That wasn’t quite true. She
had
thought about postponing telling her mother.

As they turned onto 79th Street, heading west to Hazel Dell, Trish glanced over at her mother. Marge sat half-turned in the seat, studying her daughter.

“I did fine in Spanish and English, maybe flunked chemistry, and fell asleep in history.” Trish got it all out in a rush. “Mrs. Smith will call you to set up a conference. She’s probably trying to get you now.”