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Jo laughed. “I think you might be fonder of formal attire than you imagined. And yes, I’ve seen Nancy’s hat. It’s adorable.”
As a matter of fact, Jo had noticed everyone was looking their very best. She ran a hand through her long hair, tidying her curls as she studied the members of the group surrounding Another Round. The walkover, a tradition at the Kentucky Derby, was about to begin, and all of Another Round’s connections, which included caretakers, friends, family, and guests, were allowed into Churchill Downs to escort Another Round from the backstretch barn to the paddock tunnel.
Frankie and Earl, both dressed impressively for the occasion, stood with Cheyenne near Another Round, admiring the thoroughbred as well. Frankie looked beautiful in a mint-green dress and hat and Earl had donned his best suit for race day and had worked especially hard with his physical therapist over the past month to build up enough strength and stamina to make the quarter-mile walk from the backstretch barn to the paddock tunnel. He seemed to stand just a bit taller today, his chest puffed out with pride and an excited gleam in his eye.
Jo walked over and looped her arm through his. “Does any of this feel familiar?” she asked, a sense of nostalgia enveloping her as she recalled their Derby win ten years ago.
Earl, smiling, looked down at her and practically beamed. “Just like yesterday,” he whispered. He tapped her chin with one finger, then kissed her cheek. “You work miracles.”
Jo rose to her toes and kissed his cheek, too. “You mean, we do. It took all of our hard work to get here today.”
“Truer words were never spoken.” Brooks, dressed the sharpest she’d ever seen him, strode over in a tailored suit that made him look all the more dashing. His eyes were warm and his smile affectionate. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
Jo’s cheeks heated as she glanced down at her pink dress and shoes. “Thank you. But check me out again in about an hour and I’ll probably have more dirt on me than couture.”
Brooks laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a beautiful day for a race.”
Lee, standing with Cheyenne and patting Another Round’s neck, agreed. “God couldn’t have given us a more perfect day.”
Jo had to admit, he was right. She looked around, noting a few other horses and their connections mingling in the area. At the moment, things were calm before the storm. Most of the horses were quiet and reserved and their connections were reflective as well, absorbing the atmosphere and basking in the glory of the rare moment.
“What happens next?” Cheyenne asked, her eyes scanning their surroundings with excitement.
“We do the walkover,” Jo said. “All twenty horses and their best friends and employees will gather up in one group and walk over to the paddock tunnel past the crowds.” She tapped Cheyenne’s nose affectionately. “Enjoy the quiet moments while we have them. Soon, you won’t be able to hear yourself think.”
The time came much sooner than Jo expected.
The call was made, and everyone was directed to begin the walkover. The calm silence that had lingered earlier dissipated and excited murmurings, the sounds of hooves, enthusiastic laughter, and nervous talk rippled through the group of horses and the hundreds of people accompanying them.
The group strolled from the backstretch barns across the grounds to the paddock tunnel, walking in front of the massive crowd of almost one hundred thousand screaming fans seated in the stands that rose above them. Jo walked beside Brooks, her hand brushing his occasionally, his strong fingers curling around hers every now and then, squeezing her hand as his eyes met hers, silently celebrating their achievement and the rare moment they were savoring together.
The horses who would be competing walked to the right of them and the throng of people shouting and cheering rose above them on the left. The energy in the air was electric, raising the hairs on the back of Jo’s neck, sending thrills over her skin, and kicking her heartbeat into high gear. She glanced at Another Round, who was being led by Cheyenne on one side of him and Nancy on the other. Though he seemed a bit taken aback by the crowd and noise, he remained calm and focused. His gaze darted around a bit, taking in the scene, much as they were.
When they reached the end of the walkover, the group was allowed to linger for a short time to give their last well wishes to the thoroughbreds and each other, cherishing the final few minutes of exhilarating anticipation before the start of the race.
“You’re going to be wonderful,” Cheyenne said, stroking Another Round’s neck. She glanced over her shoulder at Jo, a sheen of moisture in her eyes. “He’s perfect, isn’t he? Whether he wins or not, he’s the best in the crowd.”
Nodding, Jo walked over and hugged Cheyenne briefly before patting Another Round too. “That he is.” She rested her forehead against his neck and patted him once more, whispering soothing words in his ear as she always did before a race. “You hear that, boy? You’re perfect, just as you are.”
“Every owner’s horse is perfect in his eyes,” a deep voice drawled behind them. “But just because you believe it, doesn’t make it true.”
Frowning, Jo turned around and found Spencer Harris standing a couple feet away, his eyes narrowed on Another Round. Seeing him there was not a surprise as she and Brooks had noticed him arrive the day after they had brought Another Round to Churchill Downs. Spencer’s thoroughbred, Mad Warrior, had qualified for the Derby as well and had a much better standing than Another Round.
“That goes both ways.” Brooks walked over to Jo’s side.
Spencer smiled. “I heard Another Round ended up with the gate farthest from the rail. It’s a shame he’s starting off in the worst position.”
Brooks held his gaze. “Doesn’t matter. Anything can happen on race day, and any one of the twenty horses could finish first despite where they start.”
Spencer chuckled, his laughter holding little humor. “That it can. I have to say I’m rather surprised you’re here at all. But then again, any horse can get lucky once.” He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, his eyes sliding over Jo, leaving an uncomfortable shiver on her skin. “It’s nice to see you again, Jo. I hope you enjoy the show.”
Feeling Brooks tense beside her, Jo slid her hand in his and squeezed. “Good luck, Mr. Harris.” She glanced up at Brooks as she tugged at his hand. “Let’s go find our places, shall we?”
Spencer dipped his head, spun on his heel, and walked away, disappearing into the throng of people milling about the track.
“Don’t let him ruin this,” Jo said softly to Brooks. “Win or lose, it’s an honor just to be here. Remember that when the race is over, okay?”
Brooks looked down at her, the firm set of his mouth softening slightly. “I’ll do my best.” He glanced over his shoulder and motioned toward the rest of their group. “Let’s head to the sidelines, y’all. Things are about to crank up.”
