Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Asher reached over the stall door to greet Derby Dreamer.
The colt nudged the back of his hand and nickered softly.
Asher grinned, even though he knew he was going to ruffle some feathers soon enough.
Although, the sooner the confrontation was over, the quicker he could get to the good part of his day, like seeing Kelley and taking her on a sunset ride out to the stream.
If he was lucky, perhaps there would be another opportunity to pull his cowgirl into his arms and give in to his new curiosity. After all, he was dying to know if a second kiss would be just as spectacularly world-altering as the first. Something told him it would be all that and more.
The slam of the stable door alerted Asher that he had company. Asher gave the colt one last stroke, tucked his curiosity away and prepared himself. After all, it was not every day he meddled in stable business.
“Elliot tells me you want to pull Derby Dreamer from the Rising Star Classic this afternoon.” Irritation tightened across Joe’s face and echoed in his heavy footsteps down the center aisle of the stable. “Care to tell me why?”
“He’s not ready.” Asher turned away from the stall door.
“Doc gave him a clean bill of health,” Joe said, with resolve. “He’s cleared to compete.”
A clean bill of health was important, but Asher held firm. “It’s not his health. It’s his conditioning I’m concerned about.”
“I know full well how to properly train and prepare a horse for competition.” Frustration tightened through Joe’s words.
“I know that.” Asher tipped his hat back. “But even you admitted their training was accelerated. Walter always told us there were no shortcuts. No speeding up the process.” The horse is ready when it’s ready. And it’s for us to have the good sense to know when it’s not.
“Don’t think to lecture me on Walter’s training program.” Joe braced his hands on his hips. His motions were tense and curt. “I helped him create it all these years.”
“Then you have to agree there are risks if Derby Dreamer races,” Asher argued.
“There are always risks,” Joe stated, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. “That’s the nature of this business. Your father and I understood and accepted it. You need to do the same.”
“Protecting a horse is not a mistake. You taught me that,” Asher countered. “What has happened to you?”
“Me.” Joe jerked back. “I’ve been here pouring everything I have into this place. Year after year. Day after day. I’ve been more loyal to the Blackwell name than Walter’s own blood. You of all people cannot deny that.”
Asher barely kept from flinching. As it was, he stepped into the aisle to face Joe and widened his stance as if to steady himself.
“Look, Asher, I get what Big E is trying to do here.” Joe flicked his arm between them. “Sure, I appreciate good optics as much as the next person.”
Asher folded his arms over his chest and asked, “What exactly is Big E trying to do?”
“A couple of turns on the dance floor with a local cowgirl and a parade float aren’t going to fix things around here,” Joe explained. “We need wins at the racetrack. Wins are all that matter. They certainly mean more than having a Blackwell walking around the property.”
“Any Blackwell or me in particular?” Asher asked, his own level of frustration rising.
“You know what I’m saying,” Joe said.
“I’m not wrong about Derby Dreamer.”
“I mean no disrespect. I care about you like you’re one of my own.” Joe lowered his shoulders and his words mellowed. “But this is the part where you let Elliot and me do what we do best. What I’ve been doing since before you were born. What the stables pay me to do.”
“And what? I can go back to parade floats?” Asher said, impatiently.
“We know that’s temporary, too. And everyone needs a little timeout for some fun and parade games,” Joe said. His eyebrows lifted, his tone tempered even more. “But you know where you’re meant to be. You made that choice a long time ago.”
And that was not at Blackwell Stables. That much was clear to Joe. Asher ground his teeth together.
“From what I’ve heard, you’ve carved quite a trail for yourself on Wall Street. You should be proud of that,” Joe added. “No sense taking a detour from what you know.”
Asher may not have been Walter’s protégé, but Asher worked the stables the same as his brothers growing up. He knew something about this place. “This isn’t about me. It’s about the horses and their health and safety.”
“I recognize that better than anyone,” Joe said, lashing out. “All you are going to do, if you pull Derby Dreamer out, is make us look weak and tarnish the Blackwell name and reputation even further.”
“It is one race.” Asher stood firm. “One horse.”
“Perhaps that is exactly what you want.” Joe’s laugh was bitter and sharp. “To take control and run the stables so far into the ground that there’s no coming back.”
“You think I would do that?” Asher asked and heard the sudden chill in his own words. He had left so he would not ruin the stables.
“I think you are not Dylan.” Joe held Asher’s gaze and held his ground. “You aren’t sticking around, Asher. You never intended to. It’s not in you. We both know it. There’s no use pretending otherwise.”
Asher absorbed the stinging truth of Joe’s accusations.
“The horses need to know who they can depend on. Same as the staff. Same as me,” Joe said, more calmly. “At the very least, Dylan cared enough to stick around.”
Translation: They did not trust that they could depend on Asher. He could argue. He could claim he cared. But Joe was not wrong. He was leaving. There was no use interfering now, only to be second-guessed later. In fact, he was second-guessing himself right now.
Joe eyed Asher for another beat before he glanced away and called out, “Let’s get Derby Dreamer ready to load. We’ve got a schedule and a racetrack to get to.”
Owen stepped into Asher’s sightline, hesitation clear in his expression.
Asher inhaled and exhaled, then finally dipped his chin and said, “Joe has made the call. You heard him. Get the colts loaded.”
Owen gave Asher one last look and got to work.
Joe gave Asher a curt nod, then walked around him. At the tack room door, Joe called out, “See you in the stands this afternoon, Asher.”
“Right,” Asher muttered and shook his head. “Best not forget about those optics.”
Outside the stable, Asher slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses and walked over to the UTV parked outside the filly barn. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He slipped a wireless earbud into his ear and accepted the call without checking the caller ID.
His boss’s greeting boomed over the line followed by, “Now that I know you’re okay, I’m going to make my pitch. I’ll double whatever Fletcher and Rowe Capital offered you.”
Asher propped his boot on the step bar of the UTV and rubbed his forehead. “What are you talking about?”
“Fletcher told me he had a call in to you,” Pierce explained. “I figured since you weren’t immediately back online first thing yesterday when your access was restored, well, it was obvious. Fletcher and his team got to you with an offer you could not say no to.”
Asher tossed his cowboy hat onto the passenger seat of the UTV and scrubbed his fingers through his hair.
“I will take your silence as an affirmative.” His boss sighed, the sound more irritated than resigned.
Asher considered how to play this unexpected turn of events.
“I’m changing my counter,” Pierce said suddenly. “We will do whatever it takes to get you to stay. Whatever. It. Takes. Asher, just name it.”
“You’re serious.”
“Absolutely,” his boss said, determination in his voice. “We need you. And we are prepared to fight to keep you here.”
We need you. Wow, wasn’t that what anybody wanted?
To be needed. Perhaps Joe had the right idea after all.
Everyone should stay in their lanes. Stick to their own trails.
Skip the work of clearing a new one. Asher sighed and said, “What if I told you that I have not spoken to Fletcher and Rowe Capital and there is no job offer?”
“Well, there will be,” his boss insisted. “They recognize talent and know what you bring to the table. I will have an offer and contract ready when you get home. I’m not losing you to any rival.”
“Fair enough,” Asher said.
“When will you be back?” his boss asked.
Asher paused and watched Elliot back the trailer toward the twos’ barn, then said, “I’m catching a flight out later today.”
“Excellent,” Pierce said. His boss quickly set about getting Asher up to speed on the current deals and negotiations in the pipeline. Pierce ended their call with a pleased, “Looking forward to seeing you in the office tomorrow.”
There was one goodbye Asher was not looking forward to. Yet, the sooner it was done, the sooner things would seem right. Asher stuck his phone in his pocket. Big E hollered his name before he could climb into the UTV and head back to the house to pack up and prepare for that last goodbye.
Big E closed the door to the filly barn and walked over to join Asher. “I see they’re loading up Derby Dreamer.”
Asher nodded yet did not turn around to look. He kept his tone indifferent. “It is Joe’s call.” That was Joe’s lane. No sense believing otherwise.
“But you don’t agree,” Big E said and nudged his hat higher on his forehead to eye Asher.
“Not the decision I would have made,” Asher admitted.
“You’ve got a say around here, too.” Big E set his hands on his hips.
“Let’s be honest,” Asher said, taking a page from his conversation with Joe. “The time to use my voice passed years ago.”
Big E’s nod was slow and pensive. “Or perhaps you needed all this time to find your voice?”
“You should know that was my boss on the phone just now,” Asher explained. “He needs me back in New York to close a few deals before we lose them.” Asher needed to go before he lost his way again.
“I understand,” Big E said, easily.