Willow Smoke (4 page)

No,
she
could
handle
the
Nicholas
Underwoods
of
the
world.
She’d
seen
a
lot
worse.
She’d
survived
a
lot
worse.

- o -

Daisy
couldn’t
stop
grinning
at
Underwood,
who
was
stuffing
half
a
hotdog
overflowing
with
mustard
and
relish
into
his
mouth.
Mustard
oozed
out
across
his
lips.
His
tongue
flicked
out
to
retrieve
the
yellow
goo.
He
might
be
wealthy,
but
he
certainly
didn’t
act
like
how
she
thought
rich
folks
behaved.
At
this
moment
he
seemed
more
like
a
kid
than
she
did.

“Haven’t
you
ever
seen
a
man
eat
a
hotdog
before?”
he
growled
at
her.

Daisy
glanced
down
at
her
food
and
laughed.
“I
never paid that much attention,
but
you
do
put
on
quite
a
show.”

“One of my mottos is
that life ought to be
enjoyed.
I don’t
eat
just to survive; I eat to have
pleasure.”

“The
Buddhists claim that you ought to take time and enjoy each bite of food.”
Reaching for a second hotdog, Nick muttered, “To each his own.”

Daisy
picked up a potato chip. “Maybe it’s the hat. It makes you look younger.”

Nick
pulled on the brim of the long billed Arlington Park cap. “Well, in that case,
it was the best purchase of the day.” His eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t want you
to start calling me Gramps.

Daisy
ignored
his
humor
and
began
explaining
how
to
read
the
racing
program.
Later, on their way to the stands, she’d
stop
at
the
windows
and
show
him
how
to
place
bets.

Underwood
was
a
good
listener.
He
seemed
quite
interested in horseracing. That was good;
that increased the chances of holding on to RainbowBlaze.

“So
how do you know so much about Buddhists?”

“What?”
Hadn’t he been listening at all?

“You
said the
Buddhists
think
you
should
take
time
to
enjoy
each
bite.
Are
you
Buddhist?”

“No. I read a lot.”

“On
religion?”

She
heard
the
incredulity
in
his
voice.
“Among
other
things.
Shakespeare.
Chaucer.
Wolfe. Twain. Contemporary
romance. Westerns. And, of course,
anything
to
do
with
horses
and
horseracing.
I
like
to
read.”

“Sounds
like
an
English
major.”

Daisy
blinked.
“I’m
majoring
in
English,
at
U.I.C.”

She
smiled
at
Underwood’s
raised
eyebrows.
W
hy
did
she
enjoy
surprising
him so much?

“You
go
to
college
and
work
here
full-time?”

Daisy
sipped
her
Coke.
Did
he
think
she
was
just
a
kid
off
the
street?
“The
track
is
full-time. I try to take a course a
semester.
In
the
winter,
I
can
squeeze
in
a
little
more, since things are slower at the
track.”

“So
what
do
you
plan
to
do
with
your
degree?”

“Do
I
have
to
do
something
with
it?”
She
handed
him
a
napkin.
“
You
missed some.”

“Where?”

“There.” She pointed to
the right corner of his mouth. He wiped the left corner. “No,” she said,
grimacing. She picked up a second napkin and leaned across the table to wipe
off the remaining mustard. He gave her a wicked grin and a laugh bubbled from
his lips.

“You! You knew what I
meant all along. Why do you enjoy teasing me so?”

“Because you react so
spontaneously.”

She gave him her best
pout.

“Seriously, what do you
expect to do with your degree?”

“Train horses. What
else? I like to read. Cassie told me college wouldn’t hurt if I never did
anything particular with the degree, or even if I never finished.”

“That’s twice you
mentioned this Cassie person. Sounds pretty important to you.”

“You bet.” Daisy dropped
her gaze momentarily. “I lived with her and her family for a few years. And she
taught me just about everything I know about horses.”

“Sounds like she taught
you a few things about life, too.”

 Daisy nodded. “Yeah,
you could say that.”

“Maybe I’ll meet her, if
I hang around the track or around you long enough.”

What would Cassie
Travers make of the man under the long billed cap?
Be careful, Daisy, girl
she’d say.

“My mother would agree
with you and Cassie, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t listen too
great
,
Matthews,”
Nick
responded,
draining
his
second
cup
of
coffee.
“I
said
my
mother
would
agree
with
you.
She’s
an
English
professor
at
the
University of Minnesota.”

“Really?”

Nick
nodded.
“She
thinks
people
ought
to
read the
classics
and
contemporary
stuff
and
just
about
anything
written
in
order
to
be
well
rounded.”

Daisy
glanced
at
her
watch
and
then
started
clearing the table. “We better go.
It’s
a
half
hour
till
post
time.
I
hope
you’ll
like
the
races.”

“What I’ve seen of the
track so far is impressive. Very clean. Staff seems
welcoming
and
professional.
And
there’s
a
pulse
about
the
place
that’s
appealing.
Lead
on,
fair
lady,
and
your
eager
protégé
shall
follow.”

- o -

“So
in
this
first
race,
which
horse
do
you
like
best?
I
rather
like
the
sound
of
MoonofGold.”
Nicholas
sat
next
to
Daisy
in
the
Arlington
Park
grandstands.

She
gave
him
a
shocked
look.
He
looked
completely
serious.
She
giggled.
The
man
knew
absolutely
nothing
about
horses
or
horseracing.
She
hadn’t
been
able
to
show
him
the
barn
area—that
would
have
to
wait
for
another
day.
She
hoped
there’d
be
another
day.
He
couldn’t
sell
RainbowBlaze—she
wouldn’t
let
him.

“I
don’t
think
he
has
much
of
a
chance.
He
hasn’t
won
a
race
in
three
years,”
she
said,
pointing
to
the
Daily
Racing
Form
spread
across
her
lap.
“He’s
only
cheap
speed.
He’ll
run
flat
out
for
about
four furlongs
and
then
start
going
backward.”

“How
do
you
know
all
of
that?”

“By
going
over
this
information
on
the
horses’
past
performances.
There’s
not
enough time to teach you now, but trust
me, if you want to be successful at the
track
over
the
long
haul,
you’ll
have
to
arm yourself
with
a
lot
of
data,
wade
through
it, and then
make your best judgment.”