Free Maybe Baby by Andrea Smith

back pocket. He skimmed down through it, and then looked back up. “Jockey: T.J. Preston?”
    I smiled proudly. “I know, right?”
    “Oh yeah. That'll throw somebody off for, gee, like a full ten seconds ?” He was quickly becoming more exasperated with me. Trey must’ve really made his life miserable this past week. It was clear that I wasn't going to win Clint over.
    “Do what you have to do Clint; I guess our friendship means very little to you. Besides that, Trey’s out of town so there's really nothing you can do about it anyway.”
    I turned my back to him and walked back over to help Andy finish cinching up the outer girth on Jezebel. When we finished, I turned back around, relieved that Clint was nowhere in sight.
     

 
    Chapter 10
     
     
    I loved the pageantry of horse racing as much as anything else. I loved jockeying. It had always been a part of my life, starting as far back as junior high school. I was fortunate that, during my years in college, I'd been afforded opportunities to ride and train in racing and dressage.
    The announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker, introducing the horses, their owner, trainer, and jockey in that order. Socrates was scheduled in this race in the number four post position. The bugle sounded the familiar chords in three successions.
    I saw Socrates wearing the Sinclair Stables’ signature purple and gold colors, jockey astride in matching silks. Clint rode the escort horse, Trafalgar, as was customary for the trainer as the horses were introduced onto the track.
    “In the number four position, we have Socrates, owned by Sinclair Stables, trained by Clint Cavanaugh, piloted by Luis Cappezio.”
    I looked over at Clint. He was busy trying to get Socrates maneuvered into step using Trafalgar. Socrates was skittish and not handling the reining well. Nine horses took their places at the gate. Clint and Luis were struggling to get Socrates into his post position inside the gate. That was never a good sign.
    Once all of the horses were secured in their post positions, the trainers left the track on the escort horses. After a few minutes, the buzzer rang out and the gates opened with the loud pounding of quarter horse hooves sprinting onto the turf track. There was so much advance preparation for a race that lasted less than a half-minute, with any luck.
    The announcer had to have the ability to talk faster than an auctioneer, which was no easy task with some of the names given these horses. There were a lot of bets being placed at the windows. This was a fairly lucrative business for the owners.
    Socrates came in second; no shame there. A horse from Alexandria, Virginia took the purse, clocking at 32 seconds.
    There was a 10-minute break between each race, giving people time to place their bets. Clint would be busy for a little while, getting Socrates back to the paddock and rubbing him down. Maybe my luck would hold out and he wouldn’t come back out before my race.
    The third race finished. Andy and I checked and rechecked the saddle and girths to make sure everything was tight and secure. Jezebel was calmer than either of us, it seemed.
    “Good Luck, T.J.,” Andy teased me. “Don't get overly concerned if she’s not first out of the gate, she works into her stride in about eight or nine seconds when she’s on the outside post.”
    “I know, I got it,” I laughed, “I watched her race DVD, remember?” He was making me more nervous with his fussing.
    “Oh, the horse to beat is Lucky Lulu; she’s number three on the inside.”
    The announcer started the introductions for the fourth featured race in the series for this evening. I lowered my goggles as we were being announced onto the track. Andy rode his buckskin horse, Jubilee, escorting Jezebel and me onto the turf.
    “Jezebel is number eight out of the nine horses competing in the fourth leg of tonight’s Amateur Kick-off Stakes Challenge. She races for Sinclair Stables, trained by Andy Graham, and in the