Eyes of Silver, Eyes of Gold (30 page)

Cord pulled Red down to a walk. The horse picked his way along the stream as if he had all the time in the world and racing was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind. Another of the pack behind the three leaders pulled over, also limping badly.

John Stone’s voice dripped with scorn. “Does he have a theory he can win by attrition?”

Anne pretended not to hear.

The three leaders were out of the part of the course that required staying the stream, running their mounts across firm ground back to the steep bank that descended to the water again. They crossed the stream and were starting up the steep bank of the far side before Cord finished guiding Red carefully through the water-covered hazards. Out of the stream and away from the dangerous footing, he let Red extend into a full run, still far behind all the other racers.

The other riders had all slowed their horses coming into the trees before the descent to the stream bed. Cord did not. He disappeared from sight on the horse’s side, Comanche style, as the horse ran under tree limbs that barely cleared the saddle. He regained his seat only just in time, as Red launched from the bank’s edge in a smooth broad jump. He landed on the far bank with feet to spare, and Cord disappeared from the saddle again until they were past the last of the low-hanging trees on the far bank.

The jump made up half the distance between Red and the last of the eleven horses still in front.

The leaders were now entering the Narrows. First Lathrum’s darker bay horse disappeared from sight, then the chestnut gelding, then Lathrum’s lighter bay. To enter the Narrows, the horses had to slow considerably, for the course headed between two markers straight for a vertical, undercut bank, then swerved abruptly to the left.

The horses still tightly grouped as if in a second race behind the leaders slowed and aggressively jockeyed for position heading into the turn. One was pushed outside the course markers. This was a disqualification under the rules and left only seven in the group still in the race. The disqualified rider dismounted and kicked at the course marker in disgust.

Cord had again lost ground between his horse and the pack ahead. This time the onlookers could see it was deliberate. There was no mistaking the tight rein, the horse’s shaking head as he fought the restraint.

As the last horse ahead of Red disappeared into the Narrows, instead of staying slowed to make the turn, Cord gave the horse more rein. He accelerated smoothly, heading straight for the massive bank at a never slacking pace, angling in to pass between the required course markers. The undercut bank loomed like a cliff as the horse came in under it with no loss of speed.

Anne clenched her fists, leaning forward as if she could help, not caring who heard her whisper, “Now, love, now!”

Muscles bunched and strained in the red horse’s haunches as he leapt up in what seemed an impossible jump. Cord’s hands, Anne knew, were woven in the mane just behind the horse’s ears, his body flattened out along the horse as still as possible. Red’s front legs landed well up on top of the bank; his hind legs scrambled for interminable seconds, loosing showers of dirt before he got firm purchase. Then he was up top, in balance again, galloping straight across the plateau that the Narrows wound tortuously around.

Frank’s hand was on her shoulder, and there was awe in his voice. “Anne?”

“Wait and see. The worst part is yet to come.”

“How high is that bank?”

“Just under six feet.” Difficult, but not impossible for a good jumper, and Red was a very good jumper.

The far side of the plateau was the same as the side they had come up. The bank on that side was actually higher, almost seven feet. John Stone asked the obvious question as Cord headed for the opposite bank. “How’s he going to get down from there?”

Anne didn’t bother responding, as everyone saw the answer. The horse launched off the far bank, descending at a sickening looking angle, and almost went to his knees on landing, but the ground there was, Anne knew, fairly soft sand.

Red recovered and was off again. It was another hundred yards back to the part of the course where the other horses would emerge from the Narrows. Between Cord and Red and that path was an almost impassable tangle of heavy brush and dead trees. Red jumped the one opening in the otherwise impenetrable wall, a fallen tree that had caught so much debris it made a solid four-foot by four-foot obstacle. He landed only a few strides before the course markers ending the Narrows.

In what Anne knew Cord considered the most difficult maneuver of all, he straightened in the saddle, managing to slow the horse and execute the necessary ninety-degree turn to pass between the markers. He then pulled the horse down to a walk.

Red ambled along with his neck stretched and lowered, shaking himself slightly, looking for all the world like a horse through for the day. There was a mile and a half of uphill run left to the finish line.

Stone almost screamed at Anne. “What the hell’s the matter with him? Surely he didn’t go through all that just to quit now?

She would not have deigned to answer Stone, but the questioning looks from the Bennetts and Frank’s repeated, “Anne?” made her explain.

“He says those three horses in the lead are all faster than Red in a straight run. Red’s exerted just as much effort in those jumps as they have running the longer distance, so the difference will be that right now Red’s getting a few lungsful of air and his heart is getting a little rest. He still isn’t sure he can beat them, but he said if he had this much lead at this point he thought he could. From here on it’s just a horse race.”

As she spoke Red moved into a trot, Cord keeping an eye behind him. When the leading horse came into sight emerging from the Narrows, Cord leaned forward and almost disappeared in the flame-colored mane, and Red took off, running flat out. There was less than a mile and a quarter to go from there to the finish line.

Seeing the red horse ahead of them, the three leading riders gave furious cries. All reached for quirts and began rhythmically lashing their horses on. Near the finish line, the crowd watched in silence as the three gained on the streaking, fiery stallion.

Then Lathrum’s light bay began to fade as if it had hit a wall. The dark bay stallion and chestnut gelding relentlessly closed the distance. The pursuing riders whipped their mounts with every stride. There was no movement at all from Red’s back.

The Bar S chestnut suddenly stopped gaining ground. It would finish third, slowing all the way. The dark bay stallion was all courage, head extended, eyes rolling white, teeth bared.

Red crossed the finish line not quite two lengths ahead, winning on a few lungsful of air.

The instant Cord crossed the finish line Anne took off running to the place behind one of the houses lining the road where he had promised to wait. He was checking the stallion for cuts or injuries as she flew around the corner and headed straight for him, calling his name.

The heady wine of victory for these few minutes dissolved all his reserve. He lifted her right off the ground in an enthusiastic hug, returning her excited kiss.

“It was beautiful to watch, just beautiful. Was it as beautiful to ride?”

The momentary absence of the impassive mask left his face almost boyish. “No, not beautiful, scary. We went into that bank and all I could think was we measured wrong. Looked more like sixty feet than six. I kept thinking it was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Then we were up top and jumping off, and I knew, no,
that
was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. If I’d had breakfast I’d have lost it all right then. My stomach was ten feet behind the rest of me.”

His eyes were alight with the triumph, warm and full of life. “You just saw my debut and retirement as a race rider, babe. That’s it.”

The steely self-control slid back into place almost with an audible snap. “We’d better get back out there so they can tell us we cheated and didn’t really win.”

She gave him a last hug. “You did win. You know it, I know it, and so will they, no matter what they say.”

“Sure. How about you lead him ahead, and I’ll watch how he goes.”

Anne led the horse back to the roadway that was still filled with milling competitors and spectators. Cord walked behind the horse, watching for any signs of lameness. Groups of chattering, gesturing people fell silent at their approach. Obviously they were debating the outcome of the race.

The Stones fell on them almost at once. John had been exultant when the race ended, now he was in a rage. Words boiled out of him. “You realize you didn’t win that. You cheated. Everyone says so.”

Virginia Stone put her gloved hand on her husband’s arm, and tugged slightly, “John, I think….”

Stone turned on his wife. “Shut up, Ginny. You don’t think. That’s your problem.”

White-faced with humiliation, Virginia Stone dropped her hand from his arm and stood rigidly, making no further attempt to participate in the conversation.

Cord ignored the byplay between the couple and answered the accusation thrown at him. “No, Mr. Stone, if you read the rules, I didn’t cheat. You have to pass through all the markers and you can’t turn back and pick them up if you miss them. There are no markers in the Narrows.”

“I suppose you expect me to go up to the race committee and try to convince them of that and get you your thousand dollars.”

Cord’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. “No, I expect you to agree with them that Lathrum’s bay won. Maybe they’ll let you give him the check.”

He turned to Mrs. Stone and nodded slightly. “Annie and I’ll take care of the horse and leave him in your barn, ma’am. Looks like he won’t even be sore in the morning.”

Martha and Ephraim, Frank and Judith had arrived in time to hear everything Stone had to say. Ephraim watched his brother and Anne just walk away, one on each side of the horse. Cord had ridden that race knowing this would be the outcome and done it anyway, and Anne had helped him. Instead of letting her temper loose, she had turned her back on both the Stones and her husband’s family as quietly as Cord had, knowing there would be neither support nor congratulations from either. Ephraim felt an unexpected outrage.

He turned on Stone. “John, for a so-called gentleman, you are a first-class bastard.”

Ephraim hurried to the wooden stand draped in gaudy red and white bunting where the race committee had watched the race. He wasn’t even close when he heard shouting.

Jowly, paunchy, and balding, Alferd Lathrum wasn’t an attractive man under any circumstances. Red-faced and shouting at the committee members at the top of his lungs he was downright ugly. As Ephraim walked up, he realized that if the committee had been inclined to award Lathrum the race at first, they just might be having second thoughts by now.

Seeing Ephraim approaching and recognizing Cord’s brother, Lathrum changed targets.

“That redskin brother of yours cheated,” he screamed. “He broke the rules. He didn’t follow the course.”

Ephraim did his lawyerly best to project calm and reason. “The rules are very clear, and it’s obvious to anyone who can read he didn’t break any of them, Mr. Lathrum. Are you trying to intimidate the committee with this performance?”

The committee had, in fact, had quite enough of Alferd Lathrum. The mayor, who was chairman of the committee, finally finding room to get a word in, asserted his authority.

“Precisely, Mr. Lathrum. If you would just leave the stand, perhaps we can review the facts and come to a decision.”

At this point John Stone put in a belated and truculent appearance. Prize money or not, the legitimate winner of this race would be easier to sell than a disqualified also ran. Still stiff with anger, and avoiding looking at Ephraim, Stone arrogantly stated his case.

“Gentlemen, I have just reviewed your rules, and I see no basis for disqualifying my wife’s horse. If you do, perhaps Mr. Bennett here would agree to represent my wife and me in a lawsuit against the committee.”

The mayor raked his fingers through his hair. “Mr. Stone, Mr. Bennett, Mr. Lathrum, if you would please leave us for a few minutes, we need to discuss this, and then we’ll announce our decision.”

Walking away beside Cord, Anne heard her name and Cord’s and turned to see Martha hurrying after them. After catching her breath, Martha said, “Why don’t you wait a minute and see what happens. Ephraim’s gone to talk to the committee.”

Anne glanced at Cord and saw he was as surprised as she was. They had never considered support from his family. As they turned and walked back to the rest of the family with Martha, the mayor announced the results of the race through a bull horn. Mrs. John Stone’s horse, Firebrand, was the winner. Anne laughed, and since hugging Cord in front of hundreds of people was out, hugged Martha, then the horse.

Lennie appeared out of the crowd. “They want that horse to put a wreath around. They’re even going to take a photograph.”

Red was busy exploring Anne’s pockets, looking for carrots, and happily munched away when she produced one.

Cord handed Lennie the reins. “Take him on up there then.”

Lennie showed first surprise, then uncertainty as he found himself holding his old enemy, but he led the stallion towards the stand and a share of glory.

Frank chuckled and said, “Don’t want your picture taken?”