“It should be, you want me to take them out for you?”

“Thank you and see if you can round up everyone while you’re out there, will you?”

It was July third and they were having the Fourth of July cookout a day early. Alec had to drive down to Belmont later that night to get ready for the race the next afternoon. It was a special handicap, The Independence Handicap and had been invented to make sure that the Black would enter. The purse was a winner-take-all million dollars and the state and federal taxes would be paid by the track, making it all clear. And, man, could they use the money—running the farm was incredibly expensive and despite the amount they brought in with race purses, stud fees and the sale of some of their top grade stock, they still seemed to always be just this side of bankruptcy. Hopeful Farm was quickly gaining the reputation of being a top grade operation, both in terms of quality and integrity but it didn’t seem to matter. They were always looking over their shoulders for bill collectors. This purse would be a God-sent if they could just win the thing.

Meanwhile Pam’s parents had flown up for the long weekend so that the two families could get to know one another after Alec and Pam’s surprise marriage about six months before. Alec had met his new in-laws during a two-week visit at their home down in Florida shortly after the wedding, but the two sets of parents were just getting acquainted face to face. So far things were going smoothly and everyone seemed to be getting along just fine. Pam and Alec were living up in the newly renovated apartment over the Training barn and her parents were staying in his old room in the main house, now a guestroom. So far, so good.

Later, around the outdoor table with everyone full and comfortable, Pam’s father turned to his hosts. “So how often do you two see Alec race? The New York tracks aren’t that far, really—do you go down often?”

There was a slightly too long silence before Alec came to his parent’s rescue. “They’re busy up here—someone has to stay around. And they usually watch when a race I’m in is on TV, right?”

“That’s right and we’re driving down tomorrow—that should be exciting.” Bill, Alec’s father knew how much Belle hated watching their son work. Oh, she was as proud as any parent could be of his tremendous success and popularity but she was his mother first and he was her only child. Every time he was on the back of a horse she was worried something would happen and that would likely never change. It was just the way it was and the three of them accepted it, and if Alec was disappointed he’d never said anything.

An hour after everyone was done eating, Alec’s mother confided in Pat, Pam’s mother while the two of them finished up the dishes in the kitchen. “I did see him race once, years ago, down at Aqueduct when he was first starting out and I swore I’d never go again. There was an accident and three of those poor horses had to be euthanized and all their riders ended up in the hospital.” She wiped her hands on a towel. “One of them died the next day.”

“Was Alec badly hurt?”

“Oh no. He wasn’t involved in the problem, and he even won the race, but I guess that’s when I realized just how badly he could get hurt and I simply haven’t been able to watch since. I feel badly about it, and I know he’s disappointed, but that’s just the way I feel.” She went on, her voice quiet. “You know how it is when you have kids—you worry about everything and we’ve come so close to losing him so many times. I’m terrified that one of these days …I couldn’t bear that.” She had a distant look on her face. “You know, when that ship sank and then again when a plane he was in crashed I had to read my son’s obituary…with the shipwreck we even had a memorial service because it was so long before we had any word that he was still alive. I just don’t like being reminded how dangerous what he does for a living is, that’s all.”

Pat gave her a hug. “Would you rather not come with us tomorrow, then?”

Belle squared her shoulders. “No, I’m going. I promised Bill I would and I’ll be there. I may not watch, but I’ll be there.” She wiped out the sink then turned back to Pat. “I’m thrilled that Alec has Pam with him now. You’ve seen them together here—they’re so happy and bring out the best in each other; she’s just exactly what I hoped he’d find—someone who loves him just for himself.”

“…Have there been problems with, I don’t know. Have there been problems?”

Belle took a moment to choose her words. “Alec is, he’s—he’s become well known. It amazes me how many people are interested in him.” She seemed uncomfortable with that. “He seems to generate a lot of publicity when he works, or even if he’s just walking around down at some track or other. Hardly a week goes by without some reporter calling for him, wanting an interview or to ask him some question about a horse or a race. A lot of young ladies are attracted to that, well—that and the money he wins. Luckily, Alec understands and has avoided getting himself into potentially awkward situations. I was worried that he might just—oh, I don’t know. I was worried that he might never find someone he could love who loved him for himself and not for what he could do for them.”

“Pam loves him very much and she’s never cared all that much about the material side of things.”

Belle smiled. “I know and he loves her just as much—It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” 

*          *          * 

“Something wrong, Pam? You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m just worried about Alec, Mom. That’s all. We all know he’s a really good jockey, but…”

“But what, honey?” The next day they were all down at Belmont after a pleasant drive with both Pam’s and Alec’s parents, along with Pam in the senior Ramsay’s sedan. Now Pam and her mother were in the Ladies room of the VIP section of the stands It was about twenty minutes away from post time and they’d all just finished an extremely nice late lunch in the small, member’s only restaurant overlooking the homestretch.

Pam hesitated, then, “I just have a feeling about this race. I can’t explain it but I think it’s going to end badly. Someone’s going to get hurt. I’ve had the feeling since I knew they were entered in it a couple of months ago and it’s gotten stronger every day.”

Her mother, Pat, gave her a searching look. “Has Alec or anyone said anything to make you think there’ll be a problem?”

She shook her head. “No, but I can’t shake it. I just know.”

Pat gently moved a stray lock of hair out of her daughter’s face. “Does Alec know how you feel?”

“Of course not. I couldn’t—I mean if I told him he’d be upset. I don’t think he’d drop out but he’d be worried about me and then…”

“He might be distracted during the race and might get hurt.”

“Right.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, honey. He is one of the best riders in the country; don’t go borrowing trouble, honey. You were upset about him riding in the Flamingo and he was just fine, remember?” Pat finished up and glanced at her watch. “We have to get back outside. Do you want me to say anything?”

“God no, of course not. Those are his parents and his mother tries to pretend that he just goes for a nice jog around the track when he’s racing or something. She’d have a stroke if she knew.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, honey. He’s on the Black and he’s very good at what he does.”

Pam didn’t look at all convinced but she managed a smile. “I know. I’m just being silly. Come on—the post parade should be starting any second.” 

*          *          *

“Hey Ramsay—you win this thing today, you buying dinner for everyone?”

“The way you eat, Billy? You kidding? A million isn’t even close to being enough.” Billy Walsh was one of Alec’s best friends. They’d come up through the racing ranks together.

“Okay then, you just spring for the champagne.”

“Dream on, Walsh.”

John O’Donnell, a recent transplant from Ireland, was sitting further down the bench; staring at Alec with an odd expression on his face—curiosity, jealousy, anger—they were all written there. Thinking it was just an attempted psych-out; Alec ignored him and traded a few more jokes with his friends. O’Donnell’s ploy was standard stuff and pretty obvious, at that. Usually tries to rattle the competition were a bit subtler and Alec ignored them, too.

The atmosphere in the jockey room was the same as it always was—smelling of sweat and liniment, steam and soap. There were TV’s mounted on the ceiling to monitor the races outside, keep up with the baseball game over at Yankee Stadium and an old movie for good measure. The ping pong table was in use and a card game was always easy to get going while everyone hung around, waiting for their races. Alec was used to it and it wasn’t the first time he thought that locker rooms were all more or less the same whether they were in a high school or a professional venue like Belmont. Most of the jocks knew one another and they generally got along pretty well—it made everything more pleasant for everyone.

Alec sat in front of his locker, pulling on his shirt and thinking about the look on Pam’s face this morning when he was leaving to drive to the track.

“You okay?” He leaned over to kiss her goodbye before heading out to his jeep.

Her smile was forced but “Fine, just a little tired. Drive carefully, okay? And I don’t just mean on the road.”

“You know I always do.” He picked up his keys. “I’ll see you after the race, right?”

“Of course—in the winner’s circle.” She gave him a hard hug and another kiss and then he’d gone. It wasn’t anything he could really put his finger on but something had been bothering her and he didn’t know what it was. Sure, Pam worried when he raced, but she should be used to that by now. Well whatever was bothering her, he’d ask her about it later tonight or maybe over dinner. It was probably nothing.

“Riders for race nine, weigh in.” Alec lined up with the other ten riders, clocked in at 110 plus the twenty added pounds of lead in the saddle pad. He walked through the tunnel to the saddling area carrying the pad and his helmet, the other jocks as quiet as he was as they went into the bright sun to face the crowds, noise and horses. Their thoughts were all on the next half-hour or so and what they each had to do. There would be instructions from trainers then the post parade with thousands of people watching and TV cameras on their every move as they all took a short final warm up. Next the load in to the starting gate, the chaos of the start itself and the frantic, crushing scrambling for position going into the first turn followed by the long back stretch, the strategy of the last turn and the race to the wire. All of this was assuming that no rider came off his horse and no animal broke down. Most of the time everyone finished the race in one piece, if not always a winner—but things happened all the time and people and horses got hurt and killed. It happened and they all knew it.  It was a simple fact of their lives.

He’d been thinking about the dangers of his job more and more lately and Alec didn’t like it—it made him hesitant and unsure of himself and that’s when it was easiest to become a statistic. Sure, he’d been thrown lots of time and he’d been injured but lately it was really getting to him. He’d never said anything to anyone, not to Henry or any of his friends or his parents and certainly not to Pam—she was worried enough every time he set foot on a track without her thinking he was concerned himself. Every time they talked about it he was confident and did whatever he could to put her fears at rest, though he seriously doubted that anything could really do that.

Coming to the saddling area the jockey’s separated to their respective mounts but Alec felt a hand on his arm and turned to see John O’Donnell holding him. “Yeah, like you need another million dollars, Ramsay. One way or another, I’m beating you today and you can take that to the bank.” It was spoken quietly enough that only Billy Walsh, walking next to Alec, heard it.

The heavy-handed comment was so ridiculous that Alec simply laughed and moved away.

“Watch out for him, Alec.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it—he hates you—thinks you’re just some kid who got lucky and has everything handed to you. He was talking before you got to the Jockey room today and he wants to take you down—kept calling you ‘the fair haired boy’ and stuff like that.”

“C’mon, Billy. He’s just a blowhard.”

Billy shook his head. “I mean it—watch out for him. He blew up when some reporter asked him if you were back from lunch cause he wanted to ask you some questions. I thought he was going to punch the guy.”

“How’d he get to ride her if he’s nuts?”

“Tim Bartlett gave him a ride last week and he finished in the money with no complaints filed, that’s how, but I don’t know why Tim hired him in the first place.”

Alec shrugged. “If he’s trouble he won’t last long. You know that, so don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not gunning for me—you watch yourself. See you at the finish line.”

Henry was in the saddling area waiting for him with the Black. There was a large crowd of spectators around the area, held back by the rails and Alec ignored them. There was work to do and he felt the familiar tension he always did before a big race.

A million dollars.

It would mean everything to the farm—they could pay off everyone they owed money to, get rid of all the past due bills and even have a nice chunk left over as a cushion for a while. It would give them breathing room and that would be a rare luxury…He’d had everything handed to him? Sure he had.

“You all right?” Henry was giving him a hard look. There were people crowding around the enclosure, calling to the riders, talking loudly and applauding their favorites. Alec nodded, not even bothering to look around to see if Pam or the two sets of parents were there—he knew they weren’t. They’d agreed to stay back until after the race and so were up in the owners box near the finish line. They’d see each other soon enough.

“Fine.”

Henry gave him another look but let it go. It was probably just the usual nerves and if they seemed worse than they usually were then the race was bigger than average, too. As soon as Alec got on the track and the gate opened he’d be all business and it would be the same as any race.

“Look out for the bay—I was watching him and he has a good finish and that Irish jock up on him has a rep for dirty tricks; watch him. Don’t count him out. The gray could be trouble, too and you know Mario will get every ounce out of him.”

“I know.”

“Riders up.”

“Let’s go.” Henry gave Alec a leg up. He picked up the reins, gave the Black a pat on his neck and they followed Henry and Napoleon out to the opening in the fence, leading to the track.

As usual, Black broke out of the post parade, refusing to stay in line and acting as fractious as he always did when there was a large crowd making a lot of noise. He seemed to sense the extra tension in everyone and thrived on it.  Wheeling the stallion around, Alec let him jog a furlong going towards the first turn before guiding him back just in time to be loaded into the number seven post position. The last three horses were loaded; everyone was settled and headed forward.

The starting bells clanged, the crowd roared and the jockeys shouted—the horses surged forward and, out of he corner of his eye, Alec saw the number two and three horses colliding and going down in the first ten yards of the race, their riders falling and left behind. There was nothing he could do about it and immediately forgot about the problem as Black and the remaining seven horses passed the grandstand for the first time.

Alec kept a tight rein on Black, holding him back and slightly outside the bunching of the always messy beginning third or so of the race—there was plenty of time to make a move when they got to the far side of the backstretch. So long as they were within striking distance, he wasn’t too worried. They’d done this before and he knew what his horse was capable of.

Sitting just a yard or so on the outside of the main pack, Alec saw a lot more bumping than he would expect for a big race like this and he didn’t like it. Sure, there was a lot of money for the win, but he was catching more dirty tricks than was normal and they were the kind of sneaky stuff the stewards wouldn’t catch. There was a lot of stick work he knew would mean suspensions if they weren’t hidden by the animal’s bodies and he wanted to make sure he stayed clear. Black was shaking his head in frustration at the tight rein he was under and Alec knew he wouldn’t be able to hold him all that much longer. The pace was fast but not a record setter and he knew Black had plenty left in him. It was almost time for their move.

Glancing across the in-field, he saw that the fallen horses and riders from the bad start had been cleared. The track ahead of them was waiting for the field

There was a lot more bumping and solid blocks between the lead horses and the rest of the pack, all trying for racing room. Alec was forced wide again when an opening between two horses closed down when he had the Black’s nose moving up enough for the jocks to see him. It was legal but it meant he had to check the horse sharply. It was luck that the stallion could handle that kind of move without going down hard. Moving to the outside, they swept past that pair and moved up to within a length of the two leaders.

Going into the final turn he let out the reins a couple of notches and felt the familiar surge of power from the Black’s muscles under him. They were kicked up to high gear and the rest of the horses fell back as they were passed one by one. Finally, half a furlong from the wire he was even with the leader, the big bay Henry had warned him about being a possible threat, but that horse was tiring and wouldn’t hold on too much longer. Alec shouted at Black just as he shifted his weight slightly forward. His horse found a little more and they were a neck ahead with a scant ten yards to the wire.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alec saw O’Donnell’s crop come across the scant foot separating them and felt the slashing blow across his back and neck, the soft leather flap catching his cheek under his goggles. Barely a second later he was hit again, harder this time, his arms jerking in a reflex reaction and the Black shuddering from the sawing reins and unfamiliar movements of his rider.

They went under the wire in the lead by a head as the final strike of the whip hit the Black’s belly, causing the horse to jump and sharply veer to the outside. Alec, still reacting to his own pain and shock from being lashed, was unprepared and unseated by the sudden shift. He slammed down hard onto the track, curling into himself as much as he could in the scant moment he had to react. He heard the rest of the field passing him on the inside and caught a glimpse of Black still on his feet and running wild, bucking as he panicked from the unfamiliar sting of the crop.

Laying there in the dirt, Alec knew he was hurt. The fall had been at full speed and he hadn’t landed right. He felt what he assumed was blood dripping down his neck and face from the crop. His left shoulder and arm were white agony and his ribs were hurting as much as just about any pain he’d ever felt. It was hard for him to breathe, and he knew he had broken ribs stabbing him; he could taste blood in his mouth.

The crowd was quiet but he could still hear a few comments coming across the rail. “Christ—did you see that? O’Donnell hit Ramsay on purpose. Man…” “Black looks like he’s okay.” “Two down at the start and one at the end—helluva race.” “Who won? Did that even count?”

Alec heard the ambulance pulling up, heard the back doors open and the paramedics wheel the stretcher over to him.

God, Pam would be terrified. He had to get word to her.

“Take it easy, Alec, we got you. You’re going to be fine, just don’t move, okay? We’re going to put a neck brace on you and then get you over to the hospital.” They were checking his vital signs and giving him a quick once over, professional and efficient. “You’ve got a little problem with your shoulder here and maybe some other stuff going on, but you’re going to be fine, so don’t get excited, you hear me?”

“My wife. She’s in the stands…”

“And she can follow us, no problem, but we’ve gotta get going.”

“Black?”

“He looks okay. They’re trying to catch him and he’s running too fast for him to be hurt. Okay, we’re outta here.” Alec was on the stretcher being wheeled to the ambulance. The men loaded him in, closed the doors and they left the track, siren screaming. 

*          *          *

Alec was taken to the Flushing Hospital Medical Center, just a mile or so from the track and used to dealing with racing spills. The medics had called ahead with his vitals and some details so they were waiting for him when they got there. He was wheeled into an examining cubicle immediately; x-rays were called for as well as a MRI to make check his spine, skull and neck.

Pam ran into the Emergency Room about twenty minutes after the ambulance pulled in, going straight to the triage area, trailed by both sets of parents; it had taken them that long to get to their car and fight the traffic leaving Belmont. Showing her new driver’s license with her married name on it to one of the nurses, she was shown straight back to the area where Alec was being examined. “He’s been asking for you; just go on in, but don’t get in the way, all right?”

Pam moved the curtain aside and stood just inside, frightened. The medical people had cut off Alec’s clothes—they were dumped in a plastic garbage bag. His helmet and boots were sitting on a chair in the corner but his breeches, silks and underwear were destroyed. There was a sheet over his legs and pulled up to a few inches below his navel, he was nude from there up. His eyes were closed, he was pale and there was blood from the lashing he’d taken oozing through the dirt on his face into his hair. His left shoulder was already badly bruised and the left side of his chest looked like a horse might have kicked him. An IV was going into his right hand and there were two nurses and a doctor working on him. Monitors lined up on the far side of the room gave read outs—his heart beat was regular and he was breathing on his own, but painfully; she could hear him groaning slightly with each breath. There was an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. No one noticed her standing there.

The gray haired nurse touched his hand, the one with the needle in it. “Alec, are you still with us? Can you hear me?” He mumbled something in response. “Try to stay with us, okay? We’re going to take some pictures of your shoulder and your chest, all right? The radiologist will be here in just a minute. Alec? You listening to me, sweetheart?”

He opened his eyes a slit, trying to focus but all he managed to say was a slurred “…hurts…”

“I know it does and we’re going to take care of that as soon as we can.” The curtain was opened further and a tech rolled in a portable x-ray machine. Pam moved closer to Alec, looking to the nurse for her nod of approval. “Let him know you’re here, honey. He’s not feeling too well right now but you can help him, all right?”

“How bad is it?”

“We’ll know more in a few minutes, honey, as soon as the pictures are developed.”

She touched his hand, the one with the IV in it. “Alec? It’s me, can you hear me?” The x-ray guy started doing his thing, the other medical people moving out of his way.

His eyes opened the barest bit and he moved his hand enough to hold her fingers. “I’m sorry, Pam.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“Miss? You’re going to have to wait outside—I’m using x-rays. Hospital policy. I’ll ask the doctor to talk to you when he reads the film, okay?”

“I’ll just be outside, Alec. I promise. I love you.” She kissed his uninjured cheek then was shuffled out to the waiting room where both sets of parents were sitting, Alec’s parents frightened and her own parents anxious. “They’re working on him. His shoulder is hurt and I don’t know what else but he’s sort of awake.” Her mother put an arm around her, drawing her close when she sat on the worn couch. “Is Henry still with Black?”

Bill Ramsay nodded. “The horse is fine but he was acting up; Henry will be here as soon as he can get him calmed down. O’Donnell was taken into custody; we may file assault charges, if Alec agrees.”

An endless half-hour dragged by as they waited. Finally a doctor wearing scrubs approached them. “Ramsay?” He was young and looked tired. “I’m Doctor Gropin. Okay, first of all, he’s going to be all right. He’s awake and he’s fairly alert, so that’s good. We took some pictures and it looks like he dislocated his shoulder when he fell. It popped back into joint but it’s not quite all the way in its socket so we’re going to take care of that for him. He also broke three ribs, one of them was knocked way out of alignment and looks like it caused some internal bleeding but we have that under control. We’re going to take him upstairs to take care of that, too. Otherwise there are some pretty deep scrapes and what look like slashes across his neck and cheek—they should heal all right, but we’ll put a few stitches in just to be on the safe side. It was good he was wearing a helmet—there’s no concussion, but he may have sprained the muscles in his neck and back when he landed. They’ll be taking him up to the OR in a couple of minutes, but you can see him one at a time so long as you don’t upset him, okay?” He turned back. “And he may be sort of out of it; we’ve given him some sedatives.”

“Pam? You go.”

“No, I’ve seen him, you go in, Belle.” She knew how badly Alec’s mother needed to see her son.

While they waited for Alec to come out of surgery and then be released to a regular room from recovery, they talked. Henry had arrived a couple of hours after the end of the race, insisting the Black was just fine, just more high strung than usual and he swore that nothing would calm the stallion down other than seeing Alec walk into his stall in a few days.

“Will you race him again?” Pam was curled up in an easy chair, her knees drawn up as she hugged her legs.

“Of course we will, he’s as strong as he ever was and I swear that he’s getting faster as he gets a little older—something about seasoning and experience, but he’s going to set a new world record this year, unless I miss my guess.” 

“Oh.”

He saw what she meant by the look on her face. If Black raced so did Alec and he was in an operating room right now. “I know you’re worried about Alec but you also know that he loves to race as much as that big horse of his does. Now you listen to me—if you decide to raise a ruckus and play on his guilty conscience he just may step back to keep you happy. Now you may think that will make you happy, especially right this minute since he got hurt today, but it won’t. And if he does quit for you, you’ll be making as big a mistake as you’ll ever make.”

“But…”

“No, you let me finish. He’s been doing this for a while now and you know his record as well as I do. He’s one of the top race riders in the world—not just the US; the world. No one handed anything to him—he worked his tail off to get as good as he is and he still works harder than just about any horseman I’ve seen. He loves you, Pam, we all know that, but he’s loved horses and racing years longer than he’s known you. Now don’t take this wrong because we all know what you kids have together, but if you stop him racing you’ll cut the heart out of him.”

She wiped her face; Henry was right and as much as she hated it, she knew it. She nodded; she wouldn’t do anything to stop Alec. She’d back him up and support him as long as he still wanted to ride. If he ever got to the point of not enjoying it or not being able to physically handle it, that would be different but for now she’d be there for him.

Another twenty minutes and the surgeon came in to tell them that everything had gone well. Alec was being moved down to recovery and then would be taken to a regular room. If everything went well, he’d be released in a couple of days. They might as well go home since he would sleep through the night. Relieved, both sets of parents and Henry hugged Pam and left. Henry would go back to the track to make sure Black was settled down and the parents would make the trip back to the farm.

*          *          *

Pam spent that night at the hospital, the nurses taking pity and letting her sleep in the empty bed in Alec’s room.

The next morning she and Henry assured him that the Black was fine, if upset at his absence and Alec agreed to file charges with the police against O’Donnell who had been handed a life-time ban from racing on any sanctioned American track, along with heavy fines.

Black was declared the winner of the race, since Alec hadn’t come off the animal until after they’d crossed the finish line. The million dollars belonged to Hopeful Farm.

After lunch Billy stopped by to see how Alec was doing, staying long enough to tell him about the scene on the track after O’Donnell went nuts. From their view back in the pack, the other jockey’s saw what happened and had surrounded O’Donnell about two thirds of the way around the first turn, where they had finished their slow-downs. They’d all seen what happened in the last few yards of the race and could see the ambulance pulling around to tend to Alec. He was their friend, he was one of them and they weren’t about to let something like this pass. They may not have all been best buds or anything, but there were rules, written and otherwise and this jerk had flaunted every single one of them. This wouldn’t be tolerated and not one of them would agree to set leg on a horse if he was riding a race. He’d come close to needing a police guard in the Jockey room and had left in handcuffs with charges pending.

“What was his problem? Losing the race?” Alec was sitting up, the bandages white against his tanned and bruised skin.

“He kept saying that he was ‘sick and tired of hearing about the Boy Wonder’. O’Donnell was complaining race morning when some reporter asked him where you were and didn’t want to talk to him and then when you blew him off…”

“When did I do that?” Alec had no idea.

“He said he tried to talk to you during a breeze the day before and you ignored him.” Alec had no memory of that and just shook his head. He usually at least acknowledged if someone said something to him. “And Carlos did some checking—it seems that O’Donnell had some problems at some track outside of Dublin last year; same kind of stuff. He decided that some trainer gave him a raw deal and set fire to a barn. Three horses were killed but they couldn’t prove anything so the cops dropped some strong hints that he should consider leaving town and somehow he ended up at Belmont.”

“Lucky us. Where is he now?”

“Jail. No one would post bail—good place for him, if you ask me.”

Two NYRA officials who personally apologized followed Billy’s visit to Alec for the inexcusable incident. He was assured that his medical expenses would be covered and Hopeful Farm’s stable fees for the current meeting would be waived. They added that it was their deepest, most sincere hope that he wouldn’t blame the track or the management for the problems of the Independence Handicap. A number of the members of the press were anxious to speak with him as soon as he felt up to that sort of thing. The Belmont Committee would be grateful if he would make time for a short Q&A as soon as he was feeling a bit better.

Alec said he’d think about it, knowing he’d have to face the questions from the press at some point and might as well get it over with as soon as he could. He’d be going up to the farm to recover; maybe a couple of reporters could go up there for an interview as soon as he was settled in there.

He was finally left alone for a few minutes so he could think.

Now, what could he possibly say to Pam so she wouldn’t be so frightened when he raced? She’d hardly left the hospital since he’d been brought in and now he was due to be released soon. The plans were for him to be driven directly back to the farm but he wanted to stop at Belmont to see Black first. If he could manage it, he wanted to take the stallion home with him for a few weeks to get the whole thing out of both of their minds.

“You look better today, your color is better.” Alec’s arm was strapped and in a sling to help the still tender shoulder and his broken ribs. He had deep scabs over the welts on his left cheek and a black eye…but he was sitting up, eating and felling well enough to leave.

He hadn’t heard Pam come in; she was carrying a bag, which she handed to him. “Clean clothes; you’ve been released from this place. I have the jeep outside and as soon as we sign some papers, you’re out of here.” She kissed him—a real kiss and he put his good arm around her, pulling her closer. “Your mom has the apartment ready for us—she changed the sheets and I think she stocked the kitchen with whatever it is you’re not supposed to eat unless you’re sick and in bed.”

He smiled. “Oreos. Double stuff.” Contraband for a jockey with almost 100 calories each.

She laughed. “They’ll kill you.”

“Probably.” He swung his legs out of the bed, Pam helping him get into his clothes with just one arm working. “I’m not going to rush getting better. I think…”

Pam interrupted whatever he was about to say. “…That you have to get back in shape for the races you have coming up, right?”

“Pam?”

“It’s your job. It what you do—I know that. You have a lot more races scheduled and you have work to do.”

He looked at her, wondering where this change of heart was coming from. “You’re okay with that?”

She returned his look. “I knew you were a race rider when I first met you—I love you. I don’t want to change you; I fell in love with who you are, not some fantasy I may have had about you.”

This was a surprise—not that she loved him, that she accepted the danger of his work. “You’re sure about this?”

“As long as you want to race, so long as you can do it, I’ll do anything I can to help you. I know you love me but I know you love racing, too. You don’t have to choose, not for me, anyway.” She smiled. “We missed the fireworks last night.”

“No we didn’t.” He brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face.