Four
As the announcer began his spiel, Tuck slid his palms against his jean-clad thighs. He didn’t know if his nerves drumming away was due to the impending race or the way the journalist had studied Piper. The looks were reminiscent of how Tuck knew he watched Piper, letting the longing seep out just enough to keep it from completely spilling over and making him profess his hidden feelings.
Seeing them seated at a table for two had left Tuck uneasy—even if Piper had looked unsettled. Just the little visual forced Tuck to ask himself for the first time ever, What does Piper want in a boyfriend?
That was something they actually never discussed. She didn’t talk about any dates or point out who she thought was good-looking. He didn’t know if she wanted a man her same race or if that didn’t matter to her at all.
Did she want someone accomplished like the journalist? Or would Tuck, as a first-time lead trainer, be good enough for her? It was one thing to be friends, but a lot of women seemed to want men who were wealthy and ambitious.
Don’t be ridiculous. Piper isn’t materialistic.
The announcer continued speaking, and Tuck pulled his thoughts off himself and onto the track.
Lord God, please help Dream place. Let this be his best performance yet. Tuck wanted the accolade of having a winning horse under his belt. He’d get more clients, which meant more income, and hopefully another step in winning the girl’s heart.
Piper’s jiggling knee entered his peripheral vision.
“It’ll be okay.” He placed a hand over her kneecap.
“Fifth place and two points okay or better than that?”
Thank goodness she’d asked a legitimate question to break his focus off the warmth of the touch. “You know we won’t know until he crosses the finish line. Gabe has done well working with Dream in the mornings, and I’ve put him through a regimen that’s gotten him this far.” Thank the Lord.
A few races early on in the road to the Derby had sent Tuck falling to his knees in regret, thinking he hadn’t done enough and doomed all Piper’s chances of winning that blanket of roses.
“I know,” she mumbled.
He squeezed her knee, then let go. He flexed his hand, feeling the residual warmth from her.
“And they’re off!” the announcer called.
Tuck leaned forward as the horses left the gate. He looked for the maroon top Maisha Farms’ jockey, Gabe Moreno, would be wearing.
“Dream is pulling up from the outside into fourth with a half mile to go. AlwaysaWinner, on the inside, is still in the lead.”
“Remember how we trained,” Tuck muttered under his breath.
Tuck had given Gabe strict instructions on when to spur Dream to race faster. If he gave the signal a moment too soon, the colt could run out of steam before reaching the finish line. Tuck’s jaw clenched as his heartbeat seemed to sync to the rhythm of the race.
“Come on, come on,” Piper urged beside him.
“Dream is pushing from the outside into third. AlwaysaWinner maintains the lead as they head into the home stretch and...”
Tuck watched, breath stuck in his chest as Dream neared the finish line.
“Dream sweeps past AlwaysaWinner to win the John Battaglia Memorial Stakes!”
“Yes!” Tuck jerked his fist downward in victory.
“Oh my word!” Piper shouted as she jumped into the air.
He turned to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her. “You did it,” he murmured.
“We did it.” She squeezed his neck.
His eyes closed, reveling in the moment. Unfortunately, his mind quickly realized their embrace was running a little long, and he opened them. A dazed look had Piper’s ebony eyes glowing. Tuck would love to assume their closeness had put that expression there, but that would be pure arrogance. Dream had just secured twenty points toward the Derby trail. Historically, forty points would be enough to earn him a spot. If he won another race, they’d be heading to Churchill in May.
Thank You, Lord!
Tuck blinked, realizing he’d get ten percent of the $150k purse money, as would their jockey. Tuck had been using the winnings from the earlier races to make renovations around his place. When he first purchased his farm, all his money and time had gone into perfecting the horse facilities. Nowadays, he spent his off time refinishing floors and buying furnishings for the interior of the house.
When he got home, he’d have to look at his renovation plan. He couldn’t recall if this win would be enough to finish everything or if he would still need another one. But he was certain if he had more days like today, he’d be able to mark off item one in his Piper plan and be a better provider.
Get real, you’ll never match her trust fund.
“I need to go down to the winner’s circle.” Piper looked up into his face. “You coming?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Tuck placed a palm on the small of her back and used his other arm to keep people at bay as they made their way to the track.
Flashbulbs flared in their faces as a few photojournalists took pictures of them. After today, Piper’s phone would probably be ringing off the hook as the media clamored for a soundbite. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how many times his phone rang from horse-racing magazines wanting an interview. One of the track’s social media managers had even asked Tuck for a video of Dream’s morning work to upload to their YouTube channel. That had been a strange day, one that had Tuck reaching out to Chris for advice on angles and natural light.
A man pushed through the crowd. “Ms. McKinney, how does it feel to be the first African American owner to win the Battaglia Stakes?”
Tuck’s mouth dried. How would she answer that? Piper had shared a little with him about how unnerving it was when people kept bringing up her ethnicity. Especially once they made the connection between her and her folks. He wished he could shield her, but all he could do was step closer and remind her she wasn’t alone.
“I may be the first owner, but I’m certainly not the first African American to win a stakes race.” She flashed a smile and continued walking.
“Great answer,” Tuck said, keeping his voice low.
“You think so?”
“Yes.” He squeezed her hand, then let go, hating the loss of her warmth.
“So many reporters,” she whispered.
“You’re handling it all beautifully.” Tuck slowed to a stop and pointed ahead of them. “Go get in that circle.”
“Aren’t you coming?”
He grinned and gave her the same answer as always. “Nah, this is your moment.”
“Tucker Hale, you’re Dream’s trainer. You belong in that circle as much as I do.”
“You know I don’t like the cameras.” Chris and Lamont ribbed him every time Tuck hit the news. Then again, it was only fair considering how much he’d joked when Lamont hit the newsstands last year.
“And I do?”
His lips quirked. “Right. Okay.” He let out a breath. “Let’s go.”
They walked into the circle side by side, fake smiles across their faces as they waved to those hoping for a newsworthy shot. Finally, they dropped their arms, and Piper turned and hugged her winning Thoroughbred around the neck. Tuck hoped someone snapped the shot, because that was gold in his book. He took out his cell to capture the moment before she moved.
Wouldn’t that look amazing blown up and hanging above his leather sectional?
In your dreams.
All too true.
A few more reporters asked for a quote from Piper—and Tuck, too, once she identified him as Dream’s trainer. Eventually, the noise from the crowd faded as they got closer to the stables and behind the grandstand.
“I’m tired,” Piper said in a grouse.
“Then let’s load up and go home.” The drive to Eastbrook was only about an hour and a half.
“Did you see my folks, Tuck?”
“I didn’t.” He hadn’t been looking. Anticipation of the race had crowded out all other thoughts. “Did they say they were coming?”
She nodded. “Dad had a couple of horses racing.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even see where they placed.”
Tuck pulled out his phone. “Give me a sec and I’ll tell you.” He scrolled through the listing. “Third and fifth.”
Silence greeted his ears, and he glanced over to see her shoulders drop. “What is it?”
“Do you think they’ll hate that Dream came in first?”
“Of course not. They’ll be too happy for you.” At least that’s what he’d guess. Ian McKinney loved his daughter, and Piper was definitely a daddy’s girl.
“Will they?” She laid her head on his shoulder.
Times like these reminded him of how perfectly she fit into the crook of his arm. Remember, keep it platonic until you check off the first three items in the plan. Only then can she know how you feel.
Tuck squeezed her shoulder, then reluctantly moved in a way that had her shifting her head off him and creating space between them. “They will. They love you.”
“Why does reaching for my dream feel so lonely sometimes?” she mused.
Tuck stopped in his tracks and took her by the shoulders. “Listen to me. As long as I draw breath in my body, you will never be alone.”
Tears welled in her eyes, wrenching his heart.
“Promise?” she whispered.
Tuck stuck out his pinky. “All day, every day.”
“You’re the best.” She hooked her little finger with his.
“Don’t I know it.” He cracked a smile, hoping to see her melancholy fade.
She tutted. “Be sure to let some of that ego out, or you’ll be riding back in the trailer with Dream.”
“Then who would listen to your random horse-racing stats?” He nudged her forward, resuming their walk.
“What year did Apollo win the Kentucky Derby?”
Tuck racked his brain for the answer. His love of racing stats didn’t measure up to his love of horses. Or maybe he just didn’t have that much room in his brain. “I give. When?”
“1882.”
“How do you remember that?”
“Because they thought Runnymede would win, but Apollo made a rush toward the end and won by a half-length.”
“Your brain is impressive.”
Piper laughed. “Nope. I just want to impress people.”
“Sure.” He didn’t believe that for a second. She’d always been able to remember random facts with seeming ease. He admired that.
Piper paused, her brow furrowing.
“What is it?”
“Don’t you ever feel like you have to prove yourself?”
All the time.He swallowed. “Yes.”
“Remembering random stats, as you put it, is the same. I always wanted to make sure my folks didn’t regret adopting me. I wanted them to be proud of me.”
Tuck blinked, shock coursing through him. “Is that why you remember those things?”
She nodded. “When I was young, I pored over racing books from Dad’s library and made notecards. Anything to show that I belonged to the McKinneys, that I wasn’t just an adopted child but their real daughter.”
“Oh, Piper.” He tugged her close, tightening his arms enough for her to know she was safe with him. “Love is what makes you theirs. Nothing else matters.”
He saw a single tear as she buried her face in his shirt. Dampness spread, and he knew she’d released the rest of them. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but even when Piper’s shoulders stopped shaking, he held on to her a little while longer.