“He did well with the trip,” Aidan said. “So did the Captain.”
The goat was currently resting in Phoenix’s stall, tired from the bustling activity, his chicken costume securely around his body. From the moment they shared hay, the horse and goat had been inseparable. Phoenix allowed the goat into his stall, where they happily rested and snoozed together. They played in the pasture, and the horse had even reluctantly decided to allow Wheezy and Bolt to join in on the games. A new, more peaceful energy seemed to settle around the horse when Captain Hoof was around.
Harper believed in fate, and God, and prayer, and knew there were no coincidences. Captain Hoof had been sent to them for a reason. They had been meant to be healed by each other, and it was another reason why she loved her job so damn much.
“It’s time,” Aidan said.
Elmo saddled up, nodding at her, and they began to fall in line to walk the horses down the historic path to the track. “I’ll meet you by the stands,” Aidan told her. “The handler takes Elmo and Phoenix down for now.”
Her throat tight, she pressed a kiss to the horse’s nose. “Good luck,” she whispered in his ear. She said the same thing to Elmo and headed to her seat.
The minutes seemed to crawl as she waited for Aidan to join her. She peered through binoculars until she spotted Phoenix walking in a line of horses, toward the starting gate. Her heart galloped in her chest. Moments later, the scent of spice and Irish Spring soap rose to her nostrils. Aidan’s hard body pressed against hers, and his hand reached out to squeeze her fingers. She tilted her head to look at him. His eyes shone with a rock-steadiness and warmth that allowed her to take a shaky breath. “Does this get any less nerve racking?” she asked, reluctant to let go of his hand.
“No,” he said. “But you get used to it. And honestly, once that excitement fades and you’re too burnt out to enjoy the show, it’s time to quit.”
“Makes sense.”
The horses were guided to the gate, and one by one, they were locked in. Phoenix had drawn post number four, which wasn’t terrible, but they’d been hoping for an outside post. He was able to make up the speed, but the crowds and getting boxed in were the real trouble. Of course, Harper had better get used to luck being a factor in the long game anyway. Better to experience it early so it wasn’t a surprise.
The final horse was loaded. The gate snapped closed.
Harper held her breath.
The shriek of the alarm boomed in the air. Ten gates flew open.
“And they’re off!” the announcer shouted.
The six-furlong race seemed to take centuries as she watched Phoenix break cleanly from the gate. They’d discussed their strategy multiple times, all agreeing to let the horse get toward the front, then settle into the pace depending on the front-runner. They didn’t want him to burn out too quick so he could save some juice for the final stretch.
Phoenix tore ahead, and multiple horses fell back, giving him the space he needed. Glacier Pike got to the front and squeezed alongside Tom Tom, leaving Phoenix to settle into close third.
“He’s in the perfect position,” Aidan said.
The three horses stayed at the front through the first corner turn and into the second. Phoenix began to edge closer to the front-runner, Glacier Pike, and Tom Tom shifted over so Phoenix was sandwiched in between both horses. Hooves pounded in furious pursuit of the finish line. Dirt flew, people screamed, and the announcer boomed loudly over the speaker.
Her focus narrowed to Phoenix, his physical grace and beauty mesmerizing when he was at full power.
Suddenly, the cavalry charge pounded up behind them, the closers making their final run for the win. Phoenix held the lead, but as the final turn came around, Glacier Pike and Tom Tom hovered close, pulling Phoenix’s focus from the finish line.
Harper watched the scene unfold in slow motion.
The horse began to slow, drifting, as if confused, and Tom Tom and Glacier Pike began to pull ahead. The closers threatened, and she watched Elmo try to spur the horse on, knowing he had plenty left in the tank. Instead of speeding up, Phoenix slowed even more, as if his hooves were stuck in mud rather than dry dirt. A rush of horses came up from behind and whooshed past him.
Phoenix passed the finish line in second-to-last place.
Harper closed her eyes.
She heard the softly muttered curse from Aidan. Disappointment crashed through her, along with a rage of doubt. Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe they’d all been wrong.
He didn’t have the heart and soul of a true racehorse. At least, not enough to go on for the epic Triple Crown.
They lapsed into silence while the crowds cheered and Glacier Pike pranced to the winner’s circle.
She chewed her lip and glanced at Aidan. His profile was carved in granite. “What happened?”
“Don’t know. But I’m going to find out. Let’s go.”
Chapter Fourteen
They’d lost.
Aidan tried to beat back the ache of failure and focus on the problem. He’d been so damn sure this time. He’d experienced plenty of setbacks and failures from horses, but he’d never been so hopeful. Anger nipped at his nerves. It was his fault for letting everyone get in his head. He’d never been so attached and bonded with a horse, let alone an entire family.
He’d gotten weak.
They were back at the stables. Phoenix had been properly cooled down and settled back in his stall to munch on hay. Captain Hoof ate beside him, oblivious to the heartbreaking loss.
Aidan barely contained the bite of his words as he addressed Elmo. “What happened out there? It was a clusterfuck. You didn’t push him enough.”
Elmo faced him. His dark eyes were cold as he leveled his stare. “I did. Had plenty left in him but refused to give me it. Other horses looming spooked him. He got in his head. Couldn’t focus.”
“You’re an experienced jockey. Why didn’t you touch him with the whip to focus him?”
The jockey’s stare grew icier and matched his tone. “We agree no whip. Only hand ride. He knows my signals. He chose to ignore me.”
Aidan spun around, rubbing his scalp, too pissed off to think straight. He knew it wasn’t Elmo’s fault. The jockey was right. He’d had the perfect position and break from the gate. Phoenix should’ve been there. His workout this morning had been blistering fast—faster than he’d ever seen before. Aidan had gotten cocky and relied on the horse’s raw natural talent to get him to the finish line.
But Phoenix had gotten distracted.
The overwhelming sense of failure sank onto his shoulders. He turned back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see this coming.”
“None of us did,” Harper said firmly. She leaned against the stable door. “He’ll be better next time.”
Aidan remained silent. So did Elmo. They both knew it could be a sign the horse wasn’t cut out for the track. He tried to remind himself it was the very first race, and there was plenty of room to grow and tweak. But the doubts were nibbling fiercely inside of him, and like a frayed cord, his confidence threatened to snap.
Phoenix was supposed to be his big comeback.
Aidan needed him. Needed to show he could win on his own, with his natural talent to pick the right horse. Needed to return to Ireland a champion.