Twenty-Nine
EHV-1 at Mountain Laurel Stakes
How Many Thoroughbreds Will It Take?
I winced at the news headline. AlwaysaWinner had been put down, his infection too severe and suffering too great. I wept for his owners, trainers, and all those his short lifespan had touched. Their Derby dreams were now just that—dreams. Oh sure, they’d have more chances, but not with AlwaysaWinner. His death brought the end to their racing season.
Thank goodness we’d left Mountain Laurel as soon as we had. Though we’d been notified to quarantine—which Dream was doing at my farm—there were no signs of the virus, just recovery from the abscess. Unfortunately, two other horses in the stakes race had come down with the highly contagious virus. They’d both been euthanized as well. Neither had been Derby contenders, but that didn’t make the loss any less heartbreaking.
Mountain Laurel’s stables were being cleaned from head to toe according to a statement put out by their PR firm. Their social media page showed them cleaning the stalls and making sure anything that might be contaminated was removed.
Reporters had reached out to me for a comment, wanting to know how Dream fared. In a turn of events that was absolutely a miracle—and pointed to God, in my opinion—people had been leaving well wishes on Maisha Farms’ social media post updating everyone on the colt’s health. It wasn’t an official statement like news journalists were hoping for. Just a simple photo of me hugging his neck and a lengthy update on how he was healing from an abscess—the cause of his poor race-day performance. People had been posting encouraging comments ever since.
I was sure any moment someone would turn out to be a troll, go against the trend, and post something hateful. But I wouldn’t seek out the comment or dwell on it. Instead, I would do what Tuck had encouraged the other day—focus on what was true.
I wanted to go over to Tuck’s house and check on him. The day after we got home, he’d been shifty and even a little sickly looking. But he claimed he wasn’t ill. I’d check on him now, but he was at physical therapy. So that left me trying to figure out which two-year-old I wanted to buy from an upcoming auction.
I’d received a catalog book and wanted to purchase a few horses that would complement what Dream had already done by putting us on the map. My goal was for him to win the Derby, then turn him into a stud. But one did not become the owner of a great Thoroughbred farm with a single horse.
The other idea I had was so new that I hadn’t even shared it with Tuck yet. Mostly because this one hinged on the idea of our being married. I sure hoped it was normal to date the man you’d loved your whole life and immediately start thinking matrimonially. Like, if I became Piper Hale, how easy would it be to merge my operation with his? Tuck could continue to train, and I could continue to purchase and raise horses that would make us a household name in the horse-racing world.
No illegal substances allowed.
I blew out a breath. That felt suspiciously like throwing shade at my father. Since we’d last talked, I’d been waiting to see an exclusive interview with him appear, but nothing had been released. Had he truly listened to my advice and consulted his lawyer? Regardless, I was glad he was keeping under the radar. His trial date had been set, and Mama was a nervous wreck.
My quiet moments with God had been spent trying to figure out if I wanted Daddy to avoid a prison sentence or for him to come to justice. Bolt Brook’s main veterinarian had been arrested and released on bail as well. From the attention in the local news, people expected him to go straight to prison without collecting two hundred dollars. The public believed someone dedicated to healing animals shouldn’t be blessed with grace. I’m not so sure the verdict regarding my dad was as clear. After all, he hadn’t been the one administering the illegal injections. The vet had.
Lord, this is such a headache. I don’t know what to think or hope for.
Kind of. I didn’t want my dad in prison even though he admitted his guilt and should face punishment. My mind refused to comprehend such an outcome. I believed praying for God’s will was the best thing to do, but my selfish desires kept me mute. Instead, I kept pouring out my angst and hoping God knew what to do with my incoherent groanings.
Mama certainly was no help in the matter. When she wasn’t watching TV or sad movies, she spent much of her time muttering under her breath about how she’d been bewitched by a smooth talker and lied to for decades.
“Piper, that man is a liar and a tiger,” she’d recently said. “Tigers can’t get rid of their stripes no matter how hard they try. No amount of scrubbing will remove something ingrained in their DNA.”
“But Jesus can make an entire new creation, Mama. Daddy could become a dolphin or something.”
That had been the only dependable mammal I could think of at the time. Mama hadn’t liked my rebuttal. She’d tilted her chin, shaken her auburn hair, and flounced away. Funny enough, I’d often done the same thing when I argued with Tuck—minus shaking hair since my short afro didn’t move like the stereotypical shampoo commercials. Then again, he always had me laughing before I could complete my extraordinary exit.
Noticing things like that made me thankful for my parents and the mannerisms they’d bestowed on me. It was nice to see I had something of them, even if I’d never share their DNA.
I got up, stretching my arms above my head. I’d been sitting in my office chair far too long. Maybe I should go out and check the goats to make sure they were behaving. The fresh air would do me good and keep me from thinking about the Derby next month.
My phone blared, the security gate alarm sounding. I quickly opened the app, and my mouth parted. Someone was attempting to hop over the fence. I squinted at the video trying to identify the perp, but a hood was drawn, and a face mask covered any feature identifiable.
The phone rang.
“This is Amber with TS Security. Am I speaking to Ms. Piper McKinney?”
“Yes.” Oh boy. This was real.
“Are you safe?”
“I am.”
“Please verify your security code.”
I relayed my four-digit pin.
“Thank you, Ms. McKinney. We’ve already notified the Woodford County Sheriff’s Department of the perimeter breach. Were you able to identify the suspect on footage?”
“No, ma’am, I don’t know who the person is.”
“They’ll be arriving in two minutes. It appears the intruder is heading for your stables.”
Now my mouth dropped completely open. “No! Are they close?” What if they planned to harm Dream or kidnap him?
“Not yet. Do you hear the sirens?”
“No.” I placed the phone between my ear and shoulder and slid on my boots. “I’m going out there.”
“Ms. McKinney, I don’t advise that. Please wait for the sheriff’s department to arrive and apprehend the intruder.”
“If they mess with my horse—”
When I opened my door, I hadn’t expected to see the intruder, obviously a man, fleeing. Hot on his heels were Ice Ice and Baby, bleating like they were guard dogs, not goats who liked to escape their enclosure at will. Seriously, how had they escaped this time? Nothing left near the pen could be used as a step stool or tool to open the gate latch.
Ice Ice lunged forward and nipped the man’s leg. He screamed like a prepubescent tween at a young Justin Bieber concert. I laughed, covering my mouth.
“Ms. McKinney? Is everything okay?” Amber asked cautiously.
“Everything is just fine,” I said. “And the sheriff is here.”
The intruder jumped into the law officer’s arms, screaming incoherently and pointing to my two Pygmy goats, who stood in the field looking as innocent as lambs.
Hanging up with the security team, I met one of the deputies—a man I knew.
“You all right, Ms. McKinney?” Deputy Waller asked.
“I am. Thank you for arriving so fast.”
“Happy to serve. Besides”—his lips twisted into a sly grin—“looks like your goats did the work of a K-9 unit.”
I laughed once more. “Best thing I’ve ever seen. Even better, I’ve got the footage.”
“We’ll need a copy of that.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll take him in and find out what the deal was. He didn’t have a chance to do anything nefarious, did he?”
“No, sir. Ice Ice and Baby stopped him before he got to the horse stables.”
“You named your goats Ice Ice and Baby?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to squelch my laughter. “Who doesn’t like Vanilla Ice?”
“He might be more of a guilty pleasure.” Deputy Waller’s lips twitched this time.
“No guilt here.” Even though I could rap along to the intro, I didn’t know the lyrics of the entire song. I just liked the names for my goats.
A voice from the deputy’s radio on his shoulder was garbled for me, but he pressed a button, answering into the receiver. “Roger that.” Then he looked at me. “Seems he’s some reporter who was trying to get a photo of your horse. Do you wanna press trespassing charges?”
Yes but no.
“Just escort him off and ensure he doesn’t come back.”
“Sure thing.” He tipped his hat. “Have a good day, Ms. McKinney.”
“Will do.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and at the sight of Tuck’s name on the screen, my heart immediately lightened. “Hey there,” I said. “You okay?”
“I should be asking you that. My phone alerted me to a breach at your place. Everything all right?”
“I’m fine, but you won’t believe the story I have to tell you.” I headed back inside the house. “How about I order some takeout and come over?”
“Sounds great. My folks are playing Bingo tonight at the church, and my mom’s finally convinced I’m okay and can fend for myself.”
“Hooray! I thought you might turn into chicken noodle soup before she gave up feeding you.”
“I think I sneezed out a carrot the other day.”
I chuckled. “Okay. What’s your poison?”
“Burgers. Bonus points if they have BBQ sauce and grill marks.”
“Got it.”
I hung up and immediately opened the best takeout app to place an order. The barbecued burgers and seasoned fries would taste a lot better if I grabbed them versus having them delivered. Plus, I didn’t know how many more photojournalists lingered outside my and Tuck’s gates. It didn’t sit right to put that kind of pressure on some Eastbrook High teenager trying to deliver food to earn tips for prom or whatever else kids spent their money on these days.
By the time I arrived at Tuck’s, my mouth watered in anticipation. The smell of the burgers had tantalized me all the way from the restaurant to Tuck’s front door. I held up the takeout bag. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Mm. Smells great.” He moved aside, letting me pass through. “Let’s head to the living room, and you can tell me why there was a breach at your place.”
“’Bout had a heart attack when my phone blared and I saw someone hopping over the fence.” I started unpacking the bag. “I got the bright idea to go out and make sure Dream would be safe.”
Tuck’s face flushed red, and his eyes flashed. “Darlin’, tell me you didn’t.”
“Tuck ... you know how much I love Dream.”
“Who’s insured.”
“And going to the Derby,” I countered stubbornly.
Tuck squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Continue.”
“I opened the front door to see Ice Ice and Baby chasing the intruder right into a deputy’s arms.”
We sat down on the couch, and I showed him the video footage on my phone. This time he laughed until he cried. It was great seeing him look so lighthearted. I knew he felt responsible for not catching signs of the abscess sooner and Dream’s disappointing ranking at Mountain Laurel. But Tuck wasn’t God, all knowing or seeing. He was simply Tucker Hale, fantastic horse trainer and the man who delighted me with every blue-eyed smolder.
“Tuck?”
“Hmm?” He wiped his face with a napkin.
“What’s been going on with you? You’ve been really moody and almost ... secretive.” I bit my lip.
He blew out a breath. “Guess that’s because I have a secret.”