Miranda Kenneally - Racing Savannah

“I’m sorry too,” I say. “Are you gonna take orders from your dad for the rest of your life? When are you gonna actually stand up and act like an owner? Or is that just a title for you?”

Jack furrows his eyebrows, looking hurt and pissed, and I know I’ve dealt a low blow, but I need to put shields up around myself.

“I didn’t do it only because Dad told me to,” Jack says. He musses his wet hair, and rain drips down his face.

“Then why did you do it?” I snap.

“Because I care about you!” he roars. People in the grandstands stare at us. “I care about you so much and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He drags a hand through his hair again. Everything goes so quiet I can hear my heart pounding inside my chest. “Drink your cocoa. It’s cold and I don’t want you to get sick.”

“You don’t need to take care of me, Jack.”

“I want to take ca—” He hesitates and breathes deeply.

I sip the cocoa, shaking my head at the racetrack. “I’m really pissed at you right now. First you got my hopes up about being a jockey and being able to do something different with my life. And then you got me excited about us. That maybe we could be something special, because I really feel something when I’m with you. And I mean really feel…” I grind my teeth together.

Jack is staring at his boots now. “I told you I want you.”

“And I told you that I won’t settle for being your secret.”

“But you will settle for that guy you were with the other night. Rory Whitfield’s cousin.”

“That’s not settling! It was a real date!”

“Oh please. A real date with no chemistry. Of course you were settling.” He steps closer, getting in my face space. “Be with me. Please don’t date him.”

“Oh, so you’ll stoop to date me now that I could be interested in another guy? That sucks.”

“I care about you!”

“Then prove it.”

I face the racetrack, not meeting his gaze again. After several seconds of stewing in silence, Jack finally leaves me standing there alone. I take my hot cocoa and find a dry place to sit.

During the race, Townsend rides the rail and never gets Star out in front of the pack. The horse whips his head from side to side at one point, and I think Townsend will lose control, but he hangs on somehow.

They come in fourth place.

Jack is giving Star a weekend off from racing because the Dixiana Derby is next Saturday.

Out in Greenbriar, I’m all alone as I give Star a bath. After I brush his teeth, he reaches out as if he’s gonna bite my hand, but then he slowly nuzzles it. I look into his eyes and he nickers.

“Hello,” I reply. “Are you glad you have a day off?”

Star snuggles against my shoulder.

“No wonder you haven’t been winning races,” I whisper. “You’ve become a big ole pansy. Racehorses are supposed to be aggressive.” I pump my fist and try to show him I mean business, but he goes back to eating his grain. What a pig.

I hang out with Star the rest of the day, cleaning up his manure and letting him graze in the pasture. Last Saturday night, I went to dinner with Alex at the Cracker Barrel, and we had a good time, but nothing much happened between us. When he drove me home, he gave me a quick peck on the lips. Later tonight we’re going to a movie and I hope this’ll be the night we kiss for real. I don’t mind that we’re taking it slow, but I’m kind of aching for some passion.

Leaning over the fence, I watch Star chase a filly, teasing her, and then he gets ornery and squeals when a yearling colt tries to play with him. I laugh, and Star rewards me by nuzzling my face and hands.

Watching the horses run into the orangey-pink sunset, I totally lose track of time—I need to take a shower soon to get ready for my date, and that’s when I hear footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder to find Jack dressed in his comfy clothes—sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee.

“It’s late. We should put Star and the others back in their stalls.”

“Am I gonna get to ride Star in the Dixiana Derby next week?” I ask.

Jack sniffles, watching Star roll around in the grass grunting. “We’ll have to see what conditions are like that day.”

What he means is he has to see what his father says. How ridiculous.

“Why are you home?” My eyes trail over his sweats. “It’s Saturday night.”

He folds his hands together on top of the fence and studies the horses. “There’s nobody I want to go out with.”

“Not even Colton or Vanessa or Kelsey?”

“Don’t feel like it.” He looks at me sideways, giving me a sad smile.

That’s when Star jogs back over to me. He makes a deep snorting sound and pauses a few feet away. I cluck my tongue. The horse turns his focus from me to Jack then slowly walks forward, squeezing between us. Star nuzzles against Jack’s cheek and nips at his hair.

Jack scratches the colt’s face. “Aw, thanks, buddy.”

Bright stars poke through the lovely pink-orange sunset as Jack and I stand together, petting the horse. I wish he could show the same courage that Star just did. Will Jack ever shove aside the things that scare him?

After we lead Star to his stall, passing farmhands along the way, Jack walks me back to Hillcrest.

“Can we talk later?” he asks quietly. “We could meet out by the lake?”

I shake my head. “I can’t.” I won’t. I won’t get into another situation where we might hook up, no matter how much I want it.

“Please?” he asks softly. “Just as friends?”

“Jack,” I say in a tiny voice. “Don’t…I told you, I can’t. I have plans.”

“I need to talk to you about something…I need you, as a friend, you know?”

How could this end well?

“I got you something.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a weathered, tiny box, and hands it to me. I don’t want gifts. I want to race his horse, I want him to support me in front of his father, I want him to man up.

He nods at the white box. With shaky hands, I carefully open it to discover a silver chain with two charms: a horse and a horseshoe. The chain is kind of rusted, but it’s delicate and pretty. No guy has ever given me jewelry before. I look up into his eyes, searching.

“It belonged to my great-grandmother,” Jack says quietly. “She had red hair and loved horses. Just like you.”

My lips tremble as I stare at the bracelet. “I can’t take this.”

Jack frees it from the box and loops it around my wrist, fastening it. “But it’s perfect for you…and it matches the necklace your mom gave you. Please keep it.”

Mom told me to study history so I could learn from it. Well, everything in my history says that Jack is a player, that he only wants me in secret, that he never actually dates girls, but now he goes and gives me something that belonged to his great-grandmother? It’s like he’s linking our histories together.

I could see a guy giving an expensive, new piece of jewelry to a girl he wants to entice into bed, but not a family heirloom.

“It’s beautiful…”

“You know how important family is to me, right?” he asks. I nod, wiping my nose. “Then you understand what this bracelet means to me.”

I brush a tear out of my eye, not knowing what to say.

He peeks up at me under his eyelashes. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I admit, touching the bracelet. “But I need more…”

“I’m working on it.”

On Sunday evening, Rory asks me to dinner at Tennessee Ballers.

As soon as we sit down at our table, he pushes his new scene under my nose. This screenplay is about CIA agents—a guy and girl—who are partners fighting for the same promotion, but they’re also secretly in love with each other.

“Will you read my query letter again too?” Rory asks, shuffling through his papers. He’s looking for an agent to sell his screenplays to Hollywood. “I want to send it out tonight.”

“Yeah, after I finish reading this scene.”

“So I take it you like it then?”

“It’s full of gratuitous sex,” I say. “I hate it but I can’t look away.”

Rory laughs softly and pushes the rice around on his plate. Strange. He usually inhales his food.

“How was the date with my cousin last night?” Rory asks.

“Great,” I say, smiling. We ended up parking after the movie and we made out for a little while. He’s a good kisser. “I like him.”

“I’m glad,” Rory says. “I’m not as close with him as my brother is, but Will said it’s a good thing he’s getting out. He had a bad breakup a couple months ago.”

“Oh really? He didn’t mention it…” I worry on my lip. Last night was great. He paid for the tickets and we shared popcorn and laughed at the same parts in the movie. But it’s not like we’re close yet. I haven’t told Alex about any of my hopes and fears or how scared I am for my family now that a little sister is on the way.

“What happens if you never sell a screenplay?” I ask Rory, thinking of my future as a horse jockey.

“I’ll keep trying. I hope I will anyway.”

He wraps straw paper around his finger, peeking up at me. It’s easy to tell when something’s nagging him.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask.

“Um, my father has to declare bankruptcy.”

I cover my mouth with my hand. The farm’s financial problems are that shitty?

Rory rips the straw paper in two. “And we have to move. I guess Dad is gonna try to sell our animals. He hopes the Goodwins will buy our land.” Rory swipes at his eyes and pinches his nose.

“What is your dad gonna do?” I ask with a wobbly voice.