Bloodless Day

Brass Fittings

"Anna, you're emoting with the star."

"Am not," I muttered between mouthfuls of granola. "Eating isn't an emotion."

"I beg to differ." Jack swung around the stall door and looked in on BD, hovering protectively over his grain. The Thoroughbred kicked out at the wall with a threatening thunk.

Swallowing my last bite, I tossed the granola wrapper at Jack's head. "Yeah, you're a member of the male species. There's only two emotions in that brain of yours, food and-"

"Anna!" Lilac popped her head over the stall next to BD's, startling Jack. BD and I remained unperturbed- she'd been there for a while. "Would you help me with this one boot? It won't cooperate, my hands are slippery from the SWAT I put on this stupid horse."

"Swat?" I asked, entering the stall to see pink gunk covering Lilac's hands and an unruly chestnut gelding.

"It goes on wounds- Lego ran into a fence post," Lilac explained, pointing out a wound. I winced but knelt to straighten the shipping boots, feeling a flutter of excitement. Today was the day we shipped out to Churchill Downs, only a week after the Derby, to prep the small herd of horses for their races. BD was part of said herd, and not just to 'get used to traveling'.

I snapped back to attention as Jack was laughing. "Brilliant, Lego. Absolute genius, that horse is."

Lilac flung a polo wrap at the jockey's head, letting it unravel like a wind-caught ribbon. "It's not his fault he's got a tiny brain. Besides, he's fast."

"Are you going to take that, Anna? Did Lilac really call this dumpy little horse fast, thereby ranking him amongst the great Secretariat, Assault, Bloodless Day?"

Lego was a rather dumpy little horse.

"Oh, stop teasing us and show us how much you really deserve your paycheck. 'Comedian' wasn't in the job description, was it?" Lilac's tone was teasing, but it was unlike her to remind either Jack or I of her status of employer. I glanced between them both, but Jack was laughing and Lilac's eyes were sparkling, and felt a little left out of this inside joke. They'd known each other for years, and no matter how much Piperson Farms felt like home, my six months did not begin to touch what everyone else had.

Lilac noticed my sober expression. "Lighten up, Anna. Jack's job is in about as much danger as the mice in the feed room are."

"You have cats," I said, puzzled.

"They do about as much work as Jack does, though," Lilac grinned.

"I resent that!" Jack exclaimed, but he was already attaching a lead line to BD's old leather halter and leading the stallion from his stall. "Let's get this show on the road."

*****

Churchill Downs was hands... down... one of the nicest tracks I'd ever seen. We arrived about ten minutes behind the first caravan, pulling along two up-and-coming four year olds, and as Ned leaned out the car window to speak to the security guard, I stared around, wide-eyed. The back of the track was lined with green and white shedrows, evenly placed. Everything was nicely trimmed, swept, and clipped. Horses with shining black manes and gleaming brass name tags running smoothly along their leather halters swung their heads over the stall doors, looking around with calm eyes.

I thought of BD and his cracked leather halter and unevenly trimmed mane- my inexperienced hands slipped when he spooked at a barn cat- and felt my stomach churn with nerves. A tall, sleek bay horse walked by, looking every inch a champion. I recognized him immediately. American Pharoah. The 2015 Derby winner. Was this who BD was going against?