Miranda Kenneally - Racing Savannah

I nod slowly.

“I’ve always tried to take good care of my staff. I’m going to make sure Cindy has some time off before and after the baby comes. I won’t let anything happen to your family, understand? You all have been good to us. My staff is too important.”

I wipe the corner of my eye, smiling as I nod.

The intercom buzzes. “Mr. Goodwin, your four p.m. appointment is here,” the assistant says.

“Thank you, sir,” I say. He gives me a friendly nod and goes back to studying his notebook.

I open the heavy wooden doors to let myself out. “Oh, and, sir?” I say loud enough for both Jack and his father to hear me. “I want to race Star in the Dixiana Derby at Paradise Park.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply in a low voice, stepping out of his office and shutting the doors behind me. I’m proud of myself for trying at least.

Jack gives me a quizzical look when I march past him. “What’s going on?”

“I was just getting something I want,” I say with a smile, and race down the stairs, feeling Jack’s eyes on my back.

I head for the stables—I want to take Star out for a while. And hopefully Dad is in Greenbriar and can help me saddle him up.

The Winchesters’ racetrack, Paradise Park, is located between Lexington and Louisville on the greenest patch of land you’ve ever seen. Any time now, I’m expecting the Lucky Charms leprechaun to pop up and tell me I’m in Ireland or something. It’s times like this when I don’t believe karma is real; it’s unfair that douches like the Winchesters get to own such beautiful land.

As Dad pulls the truck into the parking lot beside the barns, I feel a slight pang of guilt for Mr. Goodwin because he’ll never own this beautiful place if he doesn’t pony up at least another million bucks. At the same time, I’m pissed because Jack hasn’t said a thing about me riding Star in today’s race, even though I brought my silks to wear. Is he waiting to make sure we have good weather before getting my hopes up?

Dad works with Minerva, Echoes of Summer, and Lucky Strikes while Rory and I are having a hell of a time with Star. He won’t stop rolling on the floor, scattering his hay bed, and snorting. He hops to his feet and jogs around his stall, making grunting noises. He is one unhappy horse.

“Get out of here,” I finally tell Rory, and my friend eagerly leaves the stall, latching it behind him. Mr. Goodwin and Jack need to hire more girls, I swear.

I take a deep breath through my nose and step forward, getting in Star’s face.

“Stop it, boy,” I say in a strong voice. “You’re such a big baby. You just want attention, right?” The horse stops snorting and moving around like he’s on drugs. His ears twitch and he stomps the ground with his front right hoof.

I stroke his face, inhaling his muskiness. “Ror?” I call out. “Would you bring Echoes of Summer in here?”

A minute later, Echoes of Summer has joined me and Star, and the mare calms him down even more. I stay with the horses, feeding them grain and brushing their hair, singing to Star to keep him calm.

Before the race, Jack and his father appear, along with Gael. Jack is wearing an elegant suit and tie, and his hair is slicked with gel.

“Get him ready to go, Whitfield,” Mr. Goodwin says. Did he forget Star hates boys or something? The minute Rory comes in the stall, Star gets agitated again. He slaps his head from side to side.

“Get out,” I say to Rory, putting up a hand. “I’ll get him ready. He’s comfortable with me,” I say to Mr. Goodwin. I want to do right by the horse. “I’ll walk him to the paddock.”

“Wait,” Jack says, standing up straight. He’s nearly taller than his father. “I want Savannah to ride him.”

“I think it’s best if you race Townsend,” Mr. Goodwin says. “He’s got more experience on this track and the purse is half a mil. You need to make the money back for the stud fee and I don’t want to see your reputation go to hell. I don’t think you can afford to lose.”

“I know I can’t,” Jack says. “That’s why Savannah’s gonna race Star. I’ll go tell the officials myself.”

“I’ll come with you,” Gael says.

Mr. Goodwin grabs Jack by the shoulder and stares him down. “Son—”

“I want your support on this, Dad,” Jack interrupts. “I’ve supported you in everything. I used Townsend as a jockey in the last race. I came on to Abby Winchester when I didn’t have any feelings for her. And because of you, I lost something important to me.” He finds my eyes.

Mr. Goodwin slaps his notebook against his palm and glances around the park, looking partially pissed but mostly wistful. He blows out air, sighing.

“I’m the owner of Cedar Hill and it’s my decision,” Jack says, and a chill shoots through me. “Go big or go home.”

“You’d better go get dressed,” Mr. Goodwin says to me. “Nobody’s riding a Cedar Hill horse unless they’re wearing the family silks.”

“Thank you!” I say, grinning.

I haul ass to the truck to change clothes, to get ready for the biggest race of my life. I reach into the cab for my backpack that contains the silks I’ll wear during the race. Glancing around at the other trailers, I make sure I’m alone and shielded by the truck door before pulling my T-shirt off over my head. I’m about to slip my Slytherin Cedar Hill shirt over my bra when a voice behind me says, “Hey.”

I cover my breasts and duck behind the door.

Marcus Winchester slowly walks up, and even though he can clearly see I’m changing, he doesn’t vamoose. He stares at me like he did that night in the Goodwins’ dining room. What. A. Perv.

“Go away,” I say, trying to cover my breasts with the shirt. “I’m changing.”

He reeks of alcohol and it’s not even noon. “You work for the Goodwins, right?” he asks.

“Yeah…?”

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if my dad raised the cost of our track even more? You know, because of you? Because you haven’t been respectful of me?”

I pause for several heartbeats. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you? Servants want to sleep with me.”

Does he have a sick desire to dominate people or something?

“Get lost,” I say when he grabs my arm. My teeth are chattering as I scramble toward the next trailer. He latches on like a leech and I’m dragging him behind me.

“I tried to give you something special. You should be grateful,” Marcus blurts. I shove him in the gut and rush toward the barns. Seconds later, Marcus overtakes me.

“I’ll make sure the Goodwins can never buy our track and it’ll be your fault,” Marcus says, grabbing me from behind. “I’ll make sure you lose your job and can’t get hired anywhere else.”

Mr. Goodwin still wants to buy this place, but I believed him when he said he’ll take care of my family. Of me.

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, you crazy asshole,” I say, stomping on his foot. Marcus groans and hops up and down.

Right then, Jack comes barreling up. He slams his right fist into Marcus’s jaw, smashing him to the ground. Marcus trips Jack, and Jack takes a punch to the chin. Then Jack leaps onto Marcus and smashes his knuckles into his nose three times. Jack pins him to the dirt.

“Jack, I already got him!” I say, like we’re hunting and Jack stole my kill.

Marcus wipes blood off his nose. “Fuck you, Goodwin.”

“Go ahead, Savannah,” Jack says, holding him down. “Do your worst.”

I kind of want to kick him where it counts, but I don’t care enough to waste any more time on this dickwad. I thrust out a hand and pull Jack up from the ground then hug him. He rubs his hands up and down my back.

Yeah, I stomped on Marcus’s foot and gave him a piece of my mind, but I can’t stop shuddering and gasping for breath.

“Shhh,” Jack whispers, gently rubbing the back of my neck. He takes the green shirt from my hand and helps me slip it over my head. I touch the bruise forming on his chin.

Marcus fumbles his way to his feet. “I’m going to tell my father.”

Just because he’s rich and powerful doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants and get away with it.

“I’m calling the police to report you,” I say.

“Who’d believe your story over mine?” Marcus snorts.

“Me,” Jack says calmly.

“I hope you enjoy telling your family you lost Paradise Park for them.”

“Who gives a shit?” Jack says. “You tried to assault my jockey.”

“So what?” Marcus replies.

“So Savannah’s gonna call the cops, and I’ll make sure your mom and sister don’t get invited to the Governor’s Christmas Ball this year. You don’t want to disappoint your mother, do you?”

Marcus’s eyes balloon and he actually looks freaked out. I stare up at Jack through misty eyes and wrap my arms around his waist.

“Hell, if you ever come near my girlfriend again, I’ll kill you,” Jack adds, making my shoulders tense up. Wait. Did he say girlfriend?

“Now get the hell out of here,” Jack says, and as Marcus scrambles away, Jack turns to me and lifts my wrist to touch the bracelet he gave me.

“Girlfriend?” I whisper. “That’s pretty presumptuous of you.”

“Are you still dating Alex? Whitfield’s cousin?” I slowly shake my head and he gently kisses my wrist. “Did Marcus hurt you?”

I know my place, but I stood up for myself anyway and didn’t think about anything except for what’s right. And even though we come from completely different stock, Jack did the right thing too.

“I’m fine…actually, I’m great.”

Jack holds my hand the entire way back to the barn, and when we see our dads, I expect him to drop it. But he keeps holding on tight.