Six
Tuck studied horse and rider as Gabe jogged Dream around the track. In a couple of weeks, the team would be traveling back to Turfway Park for the Jeff Ruby Steaks—named after the owner of Jeff Ruby’s Steakhouses. The possible points earned would be five times more than at the Battaglia Stakes, enough to cement a place at Churchill Downs.
The jockey slowed the colt, ending their twenty-minute jog. Jogging the Thoroughbreds before a gallop was a new technique gaining popularity in Japan, and Tuck had been itching to try it. So far it seemed to be working well for Dream.
“You ready for me to race him now?” Gabe asked.
The Latino was five-one and one hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet, yet the slight build was perfect for his position. Not to mention, the man had a great way with horses. Tuck could only continue to pray it would be a winning way with Dream. The thought of failing Piper when she’d placed so much trust in him to train the Thoroughbred had had him on his knees before the Lord ever since the season started.
“Yeah, take him to the gate.”
Gabe pulled on the reins, directing the colt to the three-horse-wide starting gate. Tuck couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the track, gate, and farm all under his ownership. If a few years ago you’d asked him if working on his own was a future goal, he would’ve adamantly said no. But now he found the experience filled him with pure joy.
He opened a horn app that mimicked the sound used on race days. Once the jockey signaled the okay, Tuck pressed the button, and Dream burst out of the gate.
Tuck analyzed the Thoroughbred’s form and speed and the jockey’s riding position. It all mattered. Gabe didn’t use a whip to urge Dream to go faster, merely his hands to guide the colt.
They would probably go up a few days before the event to get Dream reacclimated with the Tapeta track. Tapeta comprised a mixture of silica sand, wax, and fibers to simulate the root structure of turf. It did pretty well in wet weather. Getting familiar with the surface conditions would help the young horse be better suited for racing conditions, especially considering Tuck’s track was just dirt.
Once Gabe and Dream crossed the finish line, Tuck looked at the stopwatch.
“What was the time?” Gabe asked.
“1:02:2.”
Gabe patted the colt’s neck. “Thatta boy. But we need to shave off some time.”
He wasn’t wrong. Last year’s winner, Two Phil’s, had run a career best in the Derby, coming in at fifty-nine seconds.
“We’ll try again next week,” Tuck said.
The jockey nodded.
“Thanks for all your work.”
“Want me to take him to the stables?”
Before Tuck could respond, his phone rang. He gave a thumbs-up, then hit the green accept button. “Hey, Mom, how’s it going?”
“I’m just peachy. Do you want to come over for supper? Lasagna’s on the menu.”
His mouth watered at the thought of her famous dish. She made the best lasagna in Eastbrook as far as he was concerned. “That sounds great. Thanks for the invite.”
“You know you can come over whenever you want,” she said. “You bringing Piper? We haven’t seen her in a while.”
By design. Tuck was still trying to figure out how to be her employee as well as her friend. Not to mention he still felt a little off-kilter since seeing her and Aaron Wellington at that two-seater table. Knowing the thoughts around the image filling his head were irrational did nothing to make them dissipate, so he’d kept to himself as much as possible, hoping they’d fade. “Not sure. Just saw her yesterday, but I can text her.”
“I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll text her.”
His stomach clenched. Piper would think he was upset with her. But if he texted her, he’d get a guaranteed yes. He blew out a breath. “I promise it’s no trouble. I’ll text her.” If he said that enough times, maybe his brain would believe it.
It’s not time to tell her. Stick to the plan.
“You sure?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Good. Then see you later.”
He opened his text messages and clicked on the thread between him and Piper.
Tuck
Wanna eat at my folks’ tonight? #lasagna
Piper
Oh man, I’m supposed to meet Aaron again tonight to talk about my childhood. ?? Let me text and see if I can change the time.
Tuck wanted to reply a clipped Don’t bother, but then he’d have to admit he was jealous. Had Piper picked up on that? He hoped not. But if she had, maybe she’d think his behavior merely a fluke. Which meant he had to be careful in his response.
Tuck
If you can, great. If not, I understand. You want the article to go viral.
Piper
I don’t have to go viral, but knowing there will be a readership helps. Give me a sec.
Tuck headed to the stables. He needed to cool down the colt and get him some feed. Maybe even a sugar cube for his great efforts.
His phone chimed.
Piper
Okay. Aaron can meet earlier, so I can come. You picking me up?
Tuck
Don’t I always?
Piper
??
Piper
Oh brother. Are you in a snit, or are you using your charming smirk I can’t see?
His neck heated. She thought his smirk charming? Did that mean she saw more than friendship, or was she just being complimentary? Ugh. He hated thinking like this, dissecting every comment, look, and little detail of their relationship. He couldn’t assume Piper had romantic thoughts like he did. But hoping she did made the thought of confessing his feelings easier.
Tuck
I’m always charming.
Piper
Keep telling yourself that. ??
See!That right there was something a best friend or sister-type would say. He wanted to chuck his phone in frustration, but he just slid it into his back pocket. He’d talk to her when suppertime rolled around and he’d mentally prepared himself to not act like a love-sick fool.
Because being around Piper McKinney always had Tuck cataloging the ways he loved and wished for a perfect relationship. Knowing there was no such thing as perfection kept his mouth shut every time. Though sometimes ... he wanted to take the risk.
Tuck turned his truck into his folks’ subdivision. Though they lived a little more of a suburban life than he and Piper, their neighborhood was still made for horses. Trails that came with communal stables intertwined throughout the community. Most of the horses in the neighborhood were older, retired racehorses.
Piper bounced in her seat. “I can’t wait to see your folks. It feels like forever.”
“My mom thought the same thing.” He spared a glance to take another peek at her pretty face. “She’s probably made your favorite dessert since you’re coming.”
“She would have made one for you—if you had a favorite.”
Good point. His mom was kind that way. Only Tuck didn’t really care for desserts.
He stopped at the red-brick home in the middle of the property belonging to his parents. Every home in the neighborhood was blessed with one to two acres of surrounding land. His folks had about one and three-fourths acres.
Before he and Piper made it halfway up the front walk, his dad stepped out onto the porch. “Two of my favorite people. How are you, son?”
Tuck met his dad’s embrace, then tried not to wince at the vigorous pats on the back. His father might be aging, but there was no sign of waning strength in his hugs.
“I’m good, Dad.”
“Glad to hear it.” He turned to Piper. “How ’bout a hug from my honorary daughter?”
“Of course.” Piper slid her arms around his dad and hugged him tightly. “Sorry I haven’t seen you in a bit. Life’s been busy.”
“Well, I’m always here. Feel free to stop by and bother this ol’ hermit. Thanks to retired life, I’m at the whim of the missus. She’s either dragging me to run errands or letting me sit out back all day.”
“Oh, please, Leslie. You act like I’m your warden.” Tuck’s mom stood in the doorway and rolled her eyes.
“Warden, wife, both start with W’s. Ain’t a coincidence.”
Tuck bit down on his tongue to keep his smile hidden. Choosing sides was never an option.
“Husband, headache ... Yes, I see what you mean,” Mom shot back.
Piper met Tuck’s gaze, eyes dancing with suppressed laughter.
They followed his dad and mom back inside, and Tuck shut the screen door behind them. Smells of basil, garlic, and something else filled the air. Tuck wanted to race to the dining table and start eating, but his parents would probably amble their way while picking Piper’s brain or asking Tuck questions that could instead be shared over dinner.
“How’s the training going, son?”
See.
Tuck turned to his dad, who’d fallen back while the women walked ahead of them in the hallway. “Good.” He swallowed. “I’m a little nervous.”
“You’ve done great. I’m proud of you.” His dad laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“What are you two talking about?” Mom said, turning around to interrupt them.
“Just giving Tuck accolades for his training efforts. I’m sure Ms. Piper’s pleased, aren’t you?”
“Definitely.” Piper shot him a grin. “Tuck’s the best.”
The best what? Trainer? Friend? Or...
Tuck pushed away his thoughts so he wouldn’t analyze them to death and worry about heat traveling from his neck to his face, giving his inner thoughts away.
“Sit, sit,” his mom said, now shooing them along.
Dad took the head of the table, and the rest of them filled in the four-chair seating. “Smells good, Caroline.”
“Sure does, Mrs. Hale,” Piper said.
After they’d said grace, filled their plates, and spent a few minutes just eating the delicious meal, Mom broke the silence. “Piper, I think it’s just absolutely amazing what you’re doing in the racing world.”
“What do you mean?” Piper dipped her garlic bread in the lasagna sauce oozing on her plate.
“Why, going the distance with a horse that others underestimated.” His mom clapped her hands and sighed. “You’re an inspiration to many, dear. Most people wouldn’t want to put in all that work.”
“I may have an idea how being underestimated feels. No one wants to feel less than.”
Piper’s words came out nonchalantly, but everything in Tuck tensed. Had her conversations with Aaron Wellington forced her to relive moments of feeling less than in the orphanage? Why hadn’t he thought to ask how everything went with the man?
Because you were protecting yourself, that’s why.But what had his silence cost Piper?
He stared at her, taking in her short afro, pretty ebony eyes, and dark brown skin as smooth as velvet. Not a single hair was out of place nor did any sign of farm life linger on her simple shirt and jeans. If it weren’t for his cataloging every single detail, he might’ve missed the hurt lingering in her eyes.
“Well, isn’t that the truth?” his mom continued. “Some people have no problem casting aside the undesirable.”
Tuck tried to catch his mom’s eye, but she seemed oblivious to the undercurrents in the room. At least both he and Piper had finished what was on their plates, and he doubted she wanted seconds any more than he did.
“Uh, Mom, can we be excused? I think we could use a ride around the neighborhood.” He met his dad’s gaze. “Is it okay if we ride the horses?”
“Sure thing.” His dad cast a worried glance at Piper. “Take your time.”
“But come back for dessert,” his mom said. She eyed Piper, blinking rapidly as if now realizing something was off. “I made your favorite.”
“Will do,” Tuck said, assuring her they would.