Lone Oaks Crossing

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 12

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

Brooks glanced at Cheyenne, who stood beside him on the back deck of Lone Oaks Crossing’s main house. Her eyes, wide and fascinated, were fixed on Another Round, whom Lee was breezing along the track around the pasture.

Another Round was a sight to behold, for sure, as he galloped across the dirt, his lush mane and tail rippling behind him as he surged ahead. The crisp air of winter had given way to spring at Lone Oaks Crossing, and every inch of the rolling acres was a healthy green, the oak trees bordering the property full of broad leaves that danced in a gentle breeze. And it seemed the soothing late-March air filled Another Round’s lungs and spirit with a hefty dose of enthusiasm.

The colt picked up even more speed, stretching his legs, galloping freely and powerfully across the serene landscape without any additional encouragement from Lee who, judging from the smile on his face, was clearly enjoying the ride.

“I’ve never seen a horse as perfect or happy as he is.” Smiling, Cheyenne looked up at him. “Don’t you think he’s happy?”

Brooks stared down at her, the joy in her bright eyes bringing a smile to his own lips. “Yeah. I’d say he’s happy.”

Although he couldn’t say Another Round was perfect.

Brooks watched his thoroughbred gallop along the track, a relaxed ease in the horse’s muscular movements that Brooks only saw here, never on the racetrack.

After placing a disappointing last in the Gun Runner Stakes in December, Another Round had delivered an equally disappointing performance at the Rebel Stakes in February and another at the Tampa Bay Derby two weeks ago. Though his times had improved, he’d finished last in both races. Each time, he’d taken off from the starting gate with his competitors, but there had been a visible tension in his gait and a hesitant air about him that eventually led to his holding back, then surging forward, only to quickly fall back again to place dead last.

Brooks didn’t expect perfection, but he’d been so sure that Another Round would deliver. He’d thought from the moment Another Round was born that the thoroughbred was different, special even. His hopes for Another Round had been high. So high that the thoroughbred’s disappointing performances hurt all the more.

But Another Round had delivered in a different way. Cheyenne, for one, seemed to have found her calling in life, having developed a strong bond with the thoroughbred. In the months since the Gun Runner race, Cheyenne had bounced back from her disappointment at Another Round’s loss. She’d jumped back into her duties as the colt’s groom with enthusiasm, complimenting the thoroughbred despite his shortcomings and eagerly consoling him upon his return after each race, stroking his neck, kissing his shoulder, and hugging him close, all the while assuring him that she couldn’t be more proud of his performance on the track.

That had surprised Brooks. Cheyenne had been so disappointed with Another Round’s performance in his first race that he’d thought she’d become increasingly downtrodden with each of his subsequent losses. Instead, she seemed to have shaken off the disappointment of not winning and embraced the joy of spending time with Another Round.

“Jo said this is his last workout for today,” Cheyenne said. “She said after I help cool him down and get him settled back in his stall, she’ll let me help her strategize for the Jeff Ruby.” She tilted her head, a confused expression appearing. “I looked it up online. Why do they call it the Jeff Ruby Steaks rather than stakes?”

Brooks grinned. “It’s a homophone. The sponsor of the race owns restaurants with the same name so it’s a play on words and a nod to the sponsor. I’m glad Jo is including you in the preparation process for the race, but I can’t help wondering if you’re keeping up with your classes, too?”

“Of course.” Cheyenne made a face as though offended. “Jo won’t let me near Another Round if my grades drop. I’ve got an A in everything right now and even made the distinguished honor roll.” She lifted her chin, a self-satisfied gleam in her eye. “What do you think of that?”

Brooks chuckled and ruffled her hair with his hand. “I think you’ll do, kid.”

He couldn’t help but smile wider at the beaming look of pride on Cheyenne’s face. The kid had worked hard in every area of her life over the past six months. She’d grown in patience, maturity, and dedication, eagerly adhering to all of Jo’s, Frankie’s, and Earl’s instructions in regard to caring for Another Round as well as completing her studies. Clearly, Cheyenne was happy at Lone Oaks Crossing, though Brooks hadn’t anticipated anything different.

He recalled her prayer at their makeshift Christmas dinner three months ago. For that brief moment of time, her tough fa?ade had been set aside in exchange for raw honesty and gratitude. He’d known Jo and Lone Oaks Crossing had a lot to offer Cheyenne, but he hadn’t anticipated what it would mean to her to have others around who cared about her, pushed her to be a better version of herself, and praised her for following through with her commitments.

What was it she had said about their trip back from New Orleans?

Coming back . . . felt like coming home.

Brooks had to admit he’d felt the same. His gaze wandered farther out, seeking Jo’s familiar form in the distance. She stood with Frankie at the white fence of the pasture, watching as Lee and Another Round galloped past. Shielding her eyes against the sharp rays of the morning sun, she smiled, her soft mouth moving as she called something out to Lee, then laughed with Frankie.

A sensation Brooks had grown accustomed to over the past few months flooded him yet again. A pleasurable mixture of desire, need, and admiration. He longed to stride across the grounds, tug her close, and hold her tight forever, safe and protected in his arms.

He’d fallen in love.

The realization, though welcome, still disconcerted him. It had become increasingly difficult over the past weeks to focus on Another Round and his own plans to qualify for the Derby rather than his urgent desire to redirect his time to Jo. Lately, he’d found himself longing to simply sit on the back deck of the main house with Cheyenne, much as he did now, and enjoy the serene sights and sounds of Lone Oaks Crossing.

The truth was, he’d fallen in love with the farm as well. Lone Oaks Crossing had begun to feel like home.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Brooks started and tore his gaze away from Jo, his eyes meeting Cheyenne’s curious—and slightly giddy—expression. “What?”

“Jo.” She smiled up at him. “You really like her.”

It wasn’t a question so much as it was a statement of fact.

“Cheyenne—”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Despite the uncomfortable heat snaking up his neck, Brooks grinned. “And what way is that?”

“You know.” Shrugging, Cheyenne jerked her chin toward Jo in the pasture below. “All moony-like.” A mischievous expression appeared on her face as she adopted a teasing tone. “Like your heart is melting. Like a fire is raging inside you. Like you can’t stand the thought of living another moment without—”

“All right, kid,” Brooks said, laughing. “I can do without your sarcasm this morning. We’ve got a race coming up in a few days. A very important one, I might add, that deserves all of my attention.”

Cheyenne smirked. “You’re trying to change the subject.”

“Heck, yes, I am. No way am I having that conversation with you.”

Cheyenne rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything.” She stared out at Jo again, then said softly, “It’d be nice, you know.”

Brooks studied her face again, noting the bashful but yearning light in her eyes. “What would?”

“You two getting together. You and her being here every day . . .” She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “With me, Frankie, and Earl. It’d be like . . . you know, a family.”

Brooks fell silent, surprised by a deep-seated yearning of his own that unfurled deep within him, filling him with pleasure at the prospect. The thought was enticing, mesmerizing even. But guilt rushed in soon after, flooding him with a sense of regret and remorse at having forgotten, however briefly, the family he used to have before Spencer had ripped it all away.

“I suppose it might,” Brooks said quietly.

Cheyenne brightened, searching his eyes. “So, you agree? That it really would feel like a family?”

Brooks hesitated, then reached out and gently ruffled her hair again. “I’m saying it’s okay to dream, Cheyenne. It’s okay to imagine a different life from what you have, to pursue an ideal of what you hope your life will be.”

The hopeful light in her eyes vanished as she stared up at him, a wounded expression on her face. “So, it’s okay for me to dream just as long as I don’t expect it to come true?”

Brooks turned away, unable to face the pain lacing her words and unable to answer.

* * *

“He’s looking at you again.”

Jo, standing by the white fence of the pasture, looked away as Another Round galloped past and glanced at Frankie, who stood beside her. “Who? Another Round?”

Laughing, Frankie elbowed her gently, then motioned toward the back deck of the main house. “Our benefactor.”

Jo glanced over at the main house, her eyes searching for and finding Brooks, who stared back at her. Noticing her eyes on him, he lifted a hand and waved, smiling wide.

She smiled and waved back, enjoying the delicious tingles she always felt when looking at him.

“He’s having trouble keeping his eyes on his horse instead of you.” Frankie leaned onto the fence and tossed a teasing glance in Jo’s direction. “Why do you think that is?”

Oh, Lord. Here we go.

Jo ducked her head and rubbed her hands over her warm cheeks. Early on, Cheyenne, Frankie, and Earl had picked up on the undercurrent of tension between her and Brooks. Frankie had noticed it first, teasing her every now and then about Brooks’s admiring glances and frequent compliments. Then, Cheyenne had joined in, making silly kissy faces behind Brooks’s back whenever he and Jo were talking.

Eventually, even Earl had commented on Brooks’s lack of focus.

Two weeks ago, on the warmest day so far in March, Brooks had insisted on joining Jo in the pasture to observe Another Round’s workout. Despite his stated intention of getting a closer look at Another Round’s progress, he’d spent most of his time leaning into Jo as they stood by the fence, murmuring softly in her ear, and sneaking a kiss on her cheek and neck every now and then.

Earl, who’d ventured out onto the back deck, walking slowly and carefully as he’d practiced in PT, had shouted down that Brooks should keep his hands and eyes off Jo and on his horse instead.

At the time, Jo could’ve died from the mortification of being chastised by her grandfather as though she and Brooks were teenagers stealing a passionate moment under a parent’s watchful gaze. But at the same time, she delighted in the moment, realizing that Brooks had seemingly developed the same attraction to her as she felt for him.

Her fears of three months ago had eased just a bit, leading her to hope that he might be willing to redirect his focus from revenge on Spencer to loving her instead.

“I think he’s paying me a lot as his trainer,” Jo said. “So I’m guessing he’s keeping an eye on me to make sure I’m getting the job done.”

“Uh-huh,” Frankie said, chuckling. “You keep telling yourself that if you want, but it hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice around here that you two have taken a liking to one another.”

“I never said we haven’t. But Brooks is of the same mind as Earl,” Jo continued. “He agrees that business should come first, and his focus is on Another Round qualifying for the Derby.”

Though that prospect seemed to grow farther out of reach with each of Another Round’s losses. Since the Gun Runner race in New Orleans, Another Round had continued to place last in every race, dashing Brooks’s hopes of possessing a winning thoroughbred.

Jo glanced over her shoulder as Another Round galloped along the track without encouragement from Lee. But Another Round was a winning thoroughbred and displayed his natural talents every day when training at Lone Oaks Crossing. He just couldn’t seem to transfer that performance to a formal racetrack.

Apparently, the colt suffered from stage fright. It was a shame that the thoroughbred had been unable to overcome his fears of the track to perform at his best. Here at Lone Oaks Crossing, he ran fast and free without any tension or prompting.

“I’m afraid Brooks may be in for a disappointment,” Jo said softly. “We’re about a month away from the Derby, and at the moment, Another Round has zero wins to his name. And zero winning points, I might add.”

Frankie frowned. “And how many points are on the line with this Jeff Ruby race coming up?”

“More than enough to qualify a thoroughbred for the Derby,” Jo said. “The first-place finisher is awarded one hundred points, second gets forty, third gets thirty, then twenty and ten respectively. Another Round needs to finish in at least second position to have even a remote shot at qualifying for the Derby. In addition to that, he’d need to place in at least one more race in April as well. Pairing an additional win with a second-place finish at the Jeff Ruby would be our next best shot at qualifying for the Derby.”

“And what would be our best shot?” Frankie asked.

Jo closed her eyes, visualizing what could only be called a dream at this point, considering Another Round’s prior performances on the track. “A first-place finish in the Jeff Ruby would be ideal. One hundred points would pretty much guarantee us a spot on the track at Churchill Downs.”

Frankie sighed and looked at Brooks again. “And if Another Round comes in last again? What would be Brooks’s game plan after that?”

Jo shook her head, eyeing Brooks, who stood on the deck, his eyes following Another Round now as he galloped around the track. “I don’t know. But I imagine his plan would change drastically.”

The question that bothered Jo was whether Brooks’s new plan would include her.

* * *

One week later, the stakes at the Jeff Ruby race could not have been higher. Jo stood beside Brooks in the walking ring, just prior to starting time, and watched as Another Round circled in front of the crowd.

“How’s he looking today?” Brooks asked quietly. “Is he showing any improvement over the last race?”

Jo hesitated, knowing how much today’s performance on the track meant to Brooks. “I’d say he looks the same.” She glanced up at Brooks, noting the way the lines of tension bracketing his mouth deepened. “But things could change, you know? Anything can happen once he leaves the starting gate.”

The words were true, but Jo still had trouble believing them herself.

Almost every day since Brooks had watched Another Round’s workout with Lee from the deck, Another Round had delivered similar performances on the track at the farm. Each time his feet hit the dirt, he’d taken off with purpose and passion. Another Round had been in his element, racing like the born winner Brooks had once suspected he would be.

But considering the colt’s disappointing finishes in the past, Jo had little hope that the thoroughbred would overcome his stage fright and run freely on the synthetic track of Turfway Park, which hosted the day’s race.

“I don’t believe you,” Brooks said. He glanced about at the crowd surrounding the walking ring, then ducked his head and whispered in her ear, “You say the words but they hold no conviction. I know you well enough to know when you’re holding back on me.”

Jo leaned toward him just a bit as she eyed Another Round circling the ring. “Then you know there’s more I’d like to say that you’d probably rather not hear.”

His head turned slightly, just enough that his nose brushed her cheek. “And that would be . . . ?”

“Would it be so bad?” She glanced up, holding his gaze. “Putting this behind you? Taking Another Round home and letting him continue to run for enjoyment rather than money and prestige?”

Brooks stared back at her, his eyes roving over her face, a flash of something akin to longing showing in his expression, disappearing almost as soon as it had appeared. “That’s not part of my plan.” He straightened, the emotion fading from his expression as he fixed his gaze on Another Round again. “There are other races besides this one. Win or lose today, we could still make it happen.”

Jo nodded. “There are always other races. And I suspect there’ll always be opportunities for disagreements, wins and losses, and more feuds. What I’m asking is whether you’ve ever considered putting all of that aside and embracing a new plan.”

He remained silent and issued a tight smile toward the crowd surveying Another Round with admiration.

“If Another Round had a choice,” she asked softly, “what do you think he would choose?”

Brooks glanced back at her, answering immediately. “He’d choose to run.”

“But where?” She gestured toward the walking ring, the crowd, and the track in the distance behind them. “You think he’d prefer to be here or at Lone Oaks Crossing?” She bit her lip, unsure of how much more to say. “I know what I’d prefer. I’d prefer to be back at Lone Oaks Crossing, enjoying a nice view in good company. Having the choice to spend my time the way I wanted each day.” She stared at Another Round, watching his muscular form stride across the walking ring. “I guess what I’m asking is, if this feud between you and Spencer no longer existed, where would you rather be? At tracks like this or back at Lone Oaks, enjoying your estate?”

A muscle clenched in his strong jaw, but he didn’t answer.

Moments later, the jockeys were introduced, and Lee entered the walking ring in his pristine silks and cap, smiling broadly as he joined Jo and Brooks.

“I’d say it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood,” Lee drawled, glancing around them at the sun-drenched spring day.

Jo laughed. “What makes you so peppy this afternoon? You know something we don’t?”

Lee lifted his chin, a proud look on his face. “Not really. Just looking forward to the ride.” He motioned toward Another Round. “Let’s just hope he brings the same energy to the track that he’s had at Lone Oaks Crossing for the past week.”

“If he’d just run here like he runs back there, he’d take it all,” Brooks said.

Lee sighed. “Yeah. I know. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“We were just discussing that,” Jo said. “I was asking Brooks where he thought Another Round preferred to spend his time?”

“I think that’s obvious.” Lee’s smile dimmed just a little as he continued studying Another Round. “He loves to run, only not on the track.”

“And you?” Jo asked. “Do you enjoy racing as much as you used to?”

Lee thought it over, his gaze remaining on Another Round, then shifting to Brooks. “I enjoy racing, but my favorite days are training days.” He shrugged. “I appreciate your letting me work with Jo again, Brooks. I’ve learned a lot from her over the past few months.” He looked at Jo. “Matter of fact, been thinking about training myself at some point.”

Jo smiled, sneaking a glance at Brooks, who continued to watch Another Round silently. “That sounds like a plan,” she said. “If I manage to get Lone Oaks Crossing back into good financial standing and the new business I hope to open on its feet, I’d love to have you back on our team on a permanent basis. I know Earl would love having you around.”

Lee smiled even wider. “I’d like that.”

Jo waited, hoping that Brooks would join the conversation again and possibly commit to working with Jo and Lone Oaks Crossing on a permanent basis rather than a temporary one. That maybe, just maybe, he’d consider a different path that didn’t include racing.

But the moment was gone, the walk was over, and Another Round rejoined them, ready to undergo final preparations for the start of the race.

Brooks wished Lee good luck, patted Another Round’s neck, then walked away.

“Be careful out there,” Jo said, giving Lee a leg up onto Another Round. After Lee was settled in the saddle, she leaned close to Another Round, stroking his neck. “I know you’re nervous,” she whispered to the horse. “But don’t pay any mind to the fanfare or the end result. Just run, handsome. Run your heart out and have fun.”

Lee nodded at Jo, then guided Another Round off to join the pony horse and rider that would escort them to the track.

Jo watched them leave, then rubbed her hands together and began walking toward her viewing position by the track, stopping when a deep voice called her name. She glanced over her shoulder to find Brooks had stopped several feet away, his eyes holding hers, a somber look on his face.

“I enjoy being here,” he said, “because you’re here.” His smile returned, brightening his expression. “Good luck out there. I’ll be watching.”

Jo smiled back, that pleasurable tingle returning, raising goose bumps on her skin. “You better be.”

* * *

Later, Jo stood near the track, watching as the jockeys warmed up their horses near the starting gate. Another Round moved the same as always when he neared the starting gate, his movements showing signs of tension and hesitation. Lee continued warming him up though and Jo could see him leaning close to Another Round’s ear as though giving him a pep talk.

All too soon, the horses were led one by one to their positions at the starting gate. Soon after, the gates were swept open and a bell rang, signaling the race had commenced.

Jo’s hands clenched into fists by her sides as she watched the thoroughbreds race along the track. The afternoon sun was strong, glinting off the stands and the lenses of spectators’ sunglasses. The crowd was on its feet, cheering the horses on, adding to the tension in the air.

Jo searched the racing horses until she managed to catch a glimpse of Another Round and Lee. They were struggling at the back of the pack, keeping pace but behind all the other horses as usual. The announcer blared overhead, calling out the names of horses who’d taken the lead, detailing each thoroughbred’s move.

There was excitement in the spring air, lending an even more urgent feel to the competition. Jo watched with increasing dismay as the pack rounded another bend of the track, Another Round still lagging at the back.

“And there’s about a quarter to go here, and Royal Jade still leads the pack.” The announcer’s voice continued to drone over the stadium speakers. “Mercy Angel is holding on to a close second and Praying Marksman third.”

Jo closed her eyes, a familiar sinking feeling settling in her gut as she envisioned the finish line drawing closer and closer and Another Round lagging farther and farther behind.

Brooks would be disappointed with yet another loss; his confidence in Another Round might very well be shattered after this. He’d scour the listings again as soon as the race ended, begin strategizing new opportunities to race over the next month, planning to enter races with the highest points, spending every spare moment he had stressing over a new approach, which might very well include replacing Another Round with a different, more dependable—if not faster—horse that could—

“And out of nowhere, there goes Another Round, blasting up the outside, weaving his way in and out of the pack!”

Jo’s eyes sprang open at the announcer’s voice, shocked and electrified, blaring overhead.

“Another Round’s kicking it into high gear now, picking the others off, one by one. He’s past Praying Marksman, now Mercy Angel, and now Royal Jade! He’s overtaken Royal Jade and he’s not stopping! He’s not stopping, folks!”

“Go, boy!” Jo sprang up and down, throwing her arms in the air and cheering as Another Round passed the pack and tore down the track, leaving the other horses behind, and thundering past the finish line.

“He’s done it!” the announcer shouted. “Another Round has just bagged the Jeff Ruby with a time of one forty-four and three!”

Screaming with joy, Jo took off, weaving her way through the crowd, making her way toward the Winner’s Circle and craning her neck for any sign of Brooks headed in that direction as well. But before she could get very far, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, spinning her around and lifting her up against a hard, broad chest.

“He did it, Jo! He did it!” Brooks’s deep voice vibrated against her chest as he shouted above the crowd, hugging her tight. “We’re in!”

Jo stumbled back as he released her, but he shot out a hand, steadying her on her feet, then grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the Winner’s Circle, weaving in and out of the milling crowd.

Their time in the Winner’s Circle flew by, the flashes of cameras, shouts of onlookers, and enthusiastic handshakes from well-wishers rolling over Jo in a harried frenzy. She stood there by Brooks’s side as he introduced her and, after Lee had joined them with Another Round, praised Lee for his riding and praised Another Round as well. They were presented with the trophy, then posed for more pictures, engulfed in compliments, optimistic predictions for future wins, and admiration for Another Round—the surprising underdog who’d bolted out of nowhere and overtaken all his competitors in a flash at the last moment.

“It’s what I’ve suspected all along,” Brooks said happily to a reporter. “Another Round is a closer. He’s the winner I hoped he was. He just needed the right training and a great rider.” He motioned toward Jo and Lee, beaming proudly. “This is the winning team that made Another Round’s win today possible. They’re all winners.” He reached out and tugged Jo close, tucking her into his side and wrapping his arm tight around her as he lifted his chin proudly toward the onlookers. “We hope to see you at the Derby, folks.”

Brooks’s praise and joy at the prospect of Another Round having the opportunity to race at Churchill Downs should have lifted Jo’s spirits even higher. Instead, she found herself sagging against him, her mood plummeting into a downward spiral at the thought of undertaking yet another race, of yet again leaving Lone Oaks Crossing behind.