Eighteen
Lamont
Heard the news. How are you guys holding up?
Chris
Praying for you and Piper and her parents.
Tuck closed his eyes as he tried to decide how to respond.
Tuck
She’s not taking it too well.
Chris
How are you taking it?
Tuck
Most of my clients have canceled their horseback riding lessons. And a couple of owners no longer want me training their horses.
That pretty much summed up the craptastic morning he was having.
Lamont
Man, I’m sorry about that. Will you be ok financially?
That remained to be seen. Tuck hadn’t had the opportunity to assess the monetary impact of the whole affair. He’d been too busy dodging reporters and sleeping in from the drive home. Hence the reason he was now in his office instead of spending time with his girlfriend.
Thanks to his previous association with Bolt Brook, news journalists were now camped outside his gate. Didn’t seem to matter that his horses were cleared of any illegal substances. That wasn’t a narrative they were interested in telling.
Unfortunately, Piper had more than a few measly journalists at her door. Since it was her folks in the news, the vultures had been camping out on the public yard across from her gated entrance.
Tuck
I’m praying so. But we’ll see.
Chris
Man, if you need anything, don’t be too proud to ask.
Lamont
What he said. We got your back.
Tuck
Thanks
Tuck slid his cell near the top of his desk and exhaled. Now to deal with the rest of the voicemails piling up on his office phone. He’d already listened to a few that made him wince at the disdain coating his clients’—ex-clients—voices as they assured him they’d never set foot on his property again. The fallout from the McKinney scandal was enough to have him dreaming of climbing back into bed to restart the day.
Too bad ignoring his problems wouldn’t get them solved or make them disappear. Knowing his luck, he’d end up in some torturous version of the movie Groundhog Day.
Lord God, what do I do? If I don’t have lessons and training to supplement my income from Piper, how will I earn enough money?
He shook his head. As much as he appreciated Lamont and Chris offering to help, Tuck didn’t know if he could swallow that much pride and ask for their assistance. Considering Lamont’s net worth could be found with one internet search, it seemed foolish not to ask for help. Still ... Tuck didn’t want the man to think he just wanted a handout from a movie star. He wanted to maintain their friendship, and the idea of borrowing money from him seemed like it would muddy the waters.
But what else can I do?
He shoved the thoughts aside and pulled up his budget. Eliminating the horseback riding income from the eight out of ten clients who’d called him would give him an idea of what he was working with. Maybe he should just erase the income from everyone, including the horses he was training, in case everyone decided to seek services elsewhere. Just because they hadn’t left a nasty voicemail didn’t mean they would maintain ties with him.
After deleting the numbers, Tuck looked at his monthly expenses and compared it against his monthly income, then groaned. Losing these clients would put him in the red unless he could cut some expenses.
He glanced at the items like his streaming service, haircuts, and how much he regularly put into his savings account. He could also adjust his tithing amount if his income was falling. Plus, no one said he needed to save as much as he was. His goal of a six-month emergency fund had been met. After updating the numbers, the bottom of the spreadsheet stayed red. Would he have to dip into his savings to cover the deficiency until the McKinney scandal became old news?
Fortunately, if Dream placed at the Derby, Tuck would get some of the purse money.
Of course!He’d be receiving his percentage of the purse income from the race they’d just won, not to mention any future races where the colt placed.
Tuck let out a breath and whispered a praise to the Lord. How had he so quickly forgotten that the purse money would be coming in? Since the Thoroughbred had placed first, that was around seventy grand in his pocket, though Tuck would have to account for taxes. Still, a good amount could go to his savings with enough left to go back into the farm. He’d be financially stable as long as he didn’t splurge too much.
His ringtone broke the quiet. Tuck jumped, then snatched up his phone, swiping quickly to silence the noise.
“Hello?”
“Tuck, this is Aaron Wellington.”
Tuck’s lip curled. “Yes?”
“I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me.” The man cleared his throat. “I need to pass on some news.”
“To me and not Piper?”
“Yeah. Look, Piper was upset that I put things into motion. She blames me for all the bad press her parents are receiving.”
Of course she would. But now that something shady had happened at Bolt Brook was confirmed, Tuck could see Aaron’s side of things.
Ugh. Don’t give me another perspective, Lord. “I’m aware.”
“Are you aware of who first alerted the RMTC?”
Tuck straightened. “No, I heard it was an anonymous tip.”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard as well. But I did some digging.”
After a long pause, Tuck spoke. “And? Who was it?”
“Your father.”
“What?” Tuck sank back in his chair. “No way.”
“Yes.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I just wanted to help Piper. Let her know I’m not just after a story. Only this new information would make everything worse.”
Tuck was shaken, but he wasn’t going to take the reporter’s word for it. He needed to see his dad. “Who else have you told?”
“No one.”
Tuck swallowed. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Then after a pause, “I’ll be rooting for Dream in the Derby. I’m sure he’ll do great.”
Tuck said nothing more as the phone went silent.
Lord God, please say it ain’t so.If his dad really reported someone at Bolt Brook...
Tuck groaned and laid his head in his hands. How could he possibly tell Piper her folks were under fire because of his dad? He needed to find out if that was true.
Tuck
You home?
Dad
Where else would I be? You plan on coming through?
Tuck
Yeah. I’ll be there in a half hour. Mom home too?
Dad
Nah. She’s at a crafting market.
His mom loved collecting homemade items from craft shows. Tuck always thought it was a boring hobby, but right then, he was thankful she wouldn’t be home. He had no clue if she knew what his dad did—allegedly. He could only pray Dad would tell the truth, not lie.
Please, Lord, let the truth come to light.
He wasn’t sure yet what he’d do with the information. The thought of telling Piper made him sick. Surely this would have her breaking up with him before their romance even started.
If he drove to his parents’ place, the reporters would see him, maybe even follow. But if he left on horseback, then he could cut through both his land and Piper’s and use the county’s horse trails to get to his folks. That should keep him out of the paparazzi’s view.
Nutcracker whinnied as Tuck entered the barn.
“Hey, boy. How are you?” Tuck offered him a sugar cube. He laughed as the gelding lapped it up like it was a Tic Tac. “Wanna go for a ride?”
He stroked Nutcracker’s mane and offered him another treat before starting the process of saddling him. The Thoroughbred stood still as Tuck cinched up the saddle.
“All ready?”
Nutcracker tossed his mane.
Tuck put on his helmet, then mounted the horse. “Let’s go.” He squeezed his legs against the horse’s sides and led him out of the stable in a walk. Then once they cleared the building, Tuck urged Nutcracker into a canter.
The canter was where his horse excelled and the reason he made a good teacher for Tuck’s lessons. He’d have to make sure he took the ol’ boy out every day so he wouldn’t be sad at the lack of visitors.
As the cool breeze of the day feathered against Tuck’s face, he began to see the top of the fence between his and Piper’s land. He’d bought the horse from a previous cross-country rider, so the gelding knew how to jump, but it had been a while since they’d done so.
As they neared the fence, Nutcracker adjusted his speed for the height of the fence. Tuck loved how aware his horse was as he prepared himself for the jump. Tuck moved to forward seat with just his knees touching the horse. He loosened the pressure on the reins, then bent his hips so his chest would lower toward his body. Nutcracker rocked back on his hind legs, and they sailed through the air and over the fence, landing in rhythm. Tuck whooped, feeling the sun shining down on them as Nutcracker moved assuredly beneath him, already adjusting his speed to a canter rather than maintaining the gallop from the jump.
“Attaboy.”
He patted Nutcracker’s mane as he settled in his seat once more. But then the horse squealed, then shied to the side in a move so unexpected that Tuck lost control of the reins. He was about to get thrown.
Time slowed, and Tuck prepared himself, kicking his feet from the stirrups. As he flew through the air, he tucked his chin and knees toward his chest and curled his arms over his head. He landed on top of the grass with a thud that stole his breath, but he tried his best to let his back take the brunt of the impact.
Only, he must have anticipated incorrectly, because he heard a pop. The heat radiating from his shoulder didn’t stop him from attempting a roll, but as soon as he hit his right shoulder again, his body stopped momentum on its own accord.
His eyes squeezed tightly shut as the ache in his shoulder intensified.
“Tuck!”
Piper’s voice sounded so far away. He wanted to assure her that everything would be okay, but the only noise that made it past his lips was another groan. Why was the pain getting worse? Had he broken something? Nausea tossed his stomach. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to give in to the darkness beckoning him.
Tuck closed his eyes and let out a sigh.