Seventeen
“Ms. McKinney, how does it feel to have Dream land in first place?”
I smiled at the reporter. Not because I was trying to look friendly, but because I couldn’t keep the grin from forming every time I thought about Dream crossing the finish line first. “I’m elated. I’m so happy he’s doing well this season.” I wanted to glance over at Tuck and see how his interview was going, but I needed to stay focused.
“Where will you go next?”
“He’ll be racing at the Mountain Laurel Stakes next.” Dream didn’t necessarily need the points from that race, but it would keep him tuned up.
“Do you think he’ll win?”
“I certainly hope so.” I clasped my hands in front of me, presenting a calm front, but inside I wanted to dance, jump up and down, and yell in jubilation. Dream was going to the Kentucky Derby this year. Ahhhhh!
“One last question. Do you use illegal substances like your parents do?”
Heat infused every feature of my face, zapping my joy. “No comment.”
“Come on, Ms. McKinney,” the journalist said, trying to cajole an answer from me. “You must have something to say regarding the allegations against your adoptive parents.”
“My parents,” I snapped.
“Yes.” He sneered. “Do you believe they’re innocent? Has the RMTC investigated your own farm and conducted blood tests?”
“No comment,” Tuck said, coming up to stand behind me. He glanced down at me. “You done with this interview?”
I nodded, slipping my hand into his.
“Then let’s go.” He turned his back against the reporter and guided me away.
Relief filled me, and the outrage that had thickened my throat slowly abated. I looked up at Tuck. “Did they ask you something similar?”
“Yeah. But I said no comment just like you.”
We walked away from the track toward the stables to the left of the grandstand. “Have you seen Dream?”
“Briefly. Gabe will be handing him off to the stable hand. I’m sure he needs to unwind just like the colt does.”
“I can help the stable hand. It’s my horse, after all.”
Tuck smirked at me, so I rose on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“I’ve always wanted to do that when you smirk. It’s adorable.”
He rolled his eyes. “Smirks aren’t supposed to be adorable. They’re supposed to be a little arrogant and superior.”
“But you look cute. Your blue eyes sparkle when you do it.”
Tuck stopped in his tracks. “Darlin’, no man wants any part of him to sparkle. Ms. Meyer has hoodwinked a generation of women.”
“Maybe, but my bookish heart just swooned because you know who Stephenie Meyer is.”
“Oh, is Stephenie her first name?” He smirked again, then winked.
“Ugh.” I strode off, trying to keep the laughter at bay. But when Tuck swung me around, it bubbled out of me. You’d laugh, too, when your new boyfriend assumed you were mad and wore an expression like the one you get when you stepped in animal droppings.
“For a moment, I thought you were actually upset.” Tuck breathed out a sigh of relief.
I wiped my eyes as my laughter slowly subsided. “Your face said as much.”
“What am I going to do with you?”
Love me.But saying that week one of our being official seemed a little bit like getting ahead of myself. I didn’t want to scare Tuck with the depth of my feelings. “Buy me some bourbon balls, and we’ll be good.” There was never a wrong time for chocolate.
“You’ve always loved those.”
“What self-respecting person doesn’t?”
Tuck shrugged.
I picked up speed as we walked into the stables. Dream’s stall was in the middle on the right. I waited to see his head pop over the gate, but when I stepped in front of the door, the stall was empty.
“He’s probably getting cooled down.”
I nodded. “Right.”
The stable hands would take a hose and spray water all over the horses after a run to aid in lowering their core temperature. Dream was probably enjoying the cool down.
Once he returned to his stall, I gave him a treat, then Tuck and I headed back to the main building. We walked in silence, hand in hand. With any other person, I always felt the need to fill the quiet and make small talk. With Tuck, I could just let my mind be still and be thankful for the companionship.
Lord God, thank You so much that Tuck likes me back. It’s such a relief to hold his hand, a hand that warms every part of my being.
It seemed like such a small thing to focus on, but I couldn’t help but repeat it over and over. My hand felt cherished and cared for within Tuck’s larger grasp. When we turned a corner to go in the front entrance of the casino-hotel, his hand kept me upright as a swarm of reporters surrounded us before I could even blink.
“Ms. McKinney, are you surprised that Bolt Brook is guilty of using blood-doping agents?”
“Ms. McKinney, over here! Do you have a comment to give us?”
“Mr. Hale, did you ever administer blood-doping agents while working for Bolt Brook?”
My breath came in spurts as camera flashes went off in our faces. Questions pummeled me from all sides as my brain tried to understand what was happening. Bolt Brook had been found guilty? Were they lying? Sensationalizing a small fact to turn it into a breaking-news story?
Tuck gripped my elbow and shielded my body as he pushed his way through the throng of reporters. Like a scene from a movie, slow motion had been fully activated, and it took us several minutes to get through.
This was no rom-com, though. Reality had been served with some horror plot twist of continuous camera shutters, accusations hurled by reporters, and a sinking feeling that my relationship with my folks would never be the same.
By the time we escaped the horde—thank you, Turfway, for not letting them into the casino—my ears were ringing from all the commotion. Or maybe that was shock. Was that a side effect?
Tuck guided me into the elevator, then to my suite, where I dropped onto the couch in a daze. Then he paced a track in front of the TV while his fingers flew across his cell screen. A few moments later, he froze. Then his gaze darted from his phone to me, then back to his phone.
“Spit it out.” My voice sounded weary.
“Multiple articles state the RMTC found conclusive evidence of Bolt Brook’s use of illegal substances and that blood work showed multiple horses with the agents currently in their system.”
I choked on an inhale and bent over as if I’d been literally socked in the abdomen. As I gasped for air, my eyes filled with tears.
“Breathe, darlin’, breathe.”
Tuck’s calm tenor enveloped me, and I became aware of warmth surrounding me. Eventually, the haze receded from my eyes, and I saw the warmth came from Tuck. Concern etched into the lines of his forehead and those framing his mouth.
“I’m okay,” I whispered.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
He cupped my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.” Tears spilled over. “Do you think it’s true? I can’t hope they were framed or something like that?”
“I mean, anything is possible, but how possible is it in this scenario?” A pained look crossed Tuck’s face. “Maybe it wasn’t your dad. Yes, the farm could be guilty, but that doesn’t mean your dad administered the drugs or knew about it.”
“I really hope you’re right, Tuck.” What would I do if either one of my parents willingly betrayed everything I believed in and the sport I loved so much?
And what would Mama do if she found out Dad had known? They’d been married for almost forty years.
“What am I going to do?” I asked.
“First, let’s pray. Then once we’re home, you can call your mother and get more details.”
I nodded, thankful for a plan of action. Trust Tuck to already have one at the ready. “I still can’t believe it could be true.”
“Bolt Brook wouldn’t be the only farm to ever use illegal substances on their horses.”
“I know that, but I thought better of my folks. They’re supposed to be Christians and uphold integrity.”
“Until either one of them admits to knowledge, don’t assume the worst.”
“Come on, someone had to know something.”
Tuck rubbed his chin. “I agree. But Christians aren’t perfect, Piper. Remember the recent lie Nevaeh and Lamont perpetuated? Just because we believe in Christ doesn’t mean we’re flawless—merely forgiven.”
I sighed. “You’re right.” I looked at my best friend. “Do you ever need to be forgiven?”
“Of course. I don’t always use the best language.”
“Like when Baby escaped the pin and made you chase after her?” Giggles rose within me at the image of Tuck chasing one of my goats around the farm to capture her and bring her back to the goat enclosure.
“Exactly. Slipping in the mud and then her darting just out of reach pulled a word out of my mouth that would make my gran blush.”
I laid my head on his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel like I need forgiveness for wishing I knew my birth parents.”
“Why’s that? You don’t think it’s natural to want to know them?”
“Maybe it is, but it makes me feel guilty, nevertheless. Like the want means I don’t appreciate everything my folks did for me by loving on me as if I were born of them.”
Wasn’t that what made my identity so tricky? I have mannerisms from my parents because they’re who raised me. Yet somewhere out in the world someone was walking around with my small button nose and chin that slightly jutted out.
“Wanting to know pieces of your DNA makeup doesn’t mean you love the people who were there for every knee scrape and bedtime prayer any less.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Because I’d been battling guilt ever since I knew what the word meant. “Do you know what my biggest fear is?”
“What?” Tuck asked softly.
“That my folks’ll be guilty, and then I’ll be without any parents to claim.”
“Oh, darlin’, you’ll get through this. Whatever happens and when you talk to them, I’ll be there. Not to mention the Lord is walking every step with you.”
Tuck’s words comforted me, just as I’m sure he intended. I needed to be reminded that God was with me and that I wouldn’t be lost if my folks really had done the unthinkable. I certainly didn’t want to sever ties with them, but I also didn’t know how I’d react when I faced them. If they’d committed a cardinal sin in the horse-racing world, that wouldn’t be a sin that stopped at their doorstep. It would taint every single person who’d ever worked at Bolt Brook.