Page 117 of Training the Heart

I look up at him and smile.

“I know, it’s just, I’m so fucking nervous,” I blurt. I tap my feet, clad in Ginger’s boots, and they kick the dust up under them in the Sarasota sun.

This track is unlike anything I’ve ever seen in the professional horse racing world. It is a practice course run as an exact replica of how a race will be for a horse. No detail spared, as owners and trainers want no surprises on their horse’s first race day. The McKechnie Brothers Training Center has the marketcornered for this, and if I didn’t know any better I’d feel like I was at a real race. Angel’s Wings has had two recorded workouts in the last three days, breezing or running close to her fastest, her best time being half a mile in fifty-four seconds.

The last two days have been a blur. I’ve been distracted, to say the least, trying to let everything sink in—this pregnancy, our future, my past, all of it. Thankfully the team Wade has provided me over the last three months to help train has really held the reins for me and done their best work with Angel leading up to this race.

I’m still not used to the idea I’m going to be a mother. But that news comes with a lot of self-reflection. I instantly felt like I had been lied to the moment I saw my little bean thriving inside me. Call it mother’s intuition. For three years, I thought I couldn’t have this, I just took what Brad’s doctor told me at face value, accepting that he was honest. To hear our baby has just as good a shot as any of making it into this world was the greatest news I could ever hear, but I still felt I needed to mourn for the years in which I’d lost that hope—and for the future I never knew I could have. The future that is now a real possibility thanks to this incredible man beside me. Grinning down at me now like he has all the confidence in the world.

“There’s no need to be nervous. Trouble, you’ve trained her well. She’s got this, let’s go watch for her.” His brow furrows. “And walk beside me, I need to stop staring at your ass in that dress or I’m going to have to pull you into a hallway somewhere before this gate test and race even starts,” he whispers in my ear, sending heat instantly to my core. It’s already hot in Florida, so the return of my sundresses even for a couple of days is welcome compared to the early February cold in Kentucky. Wade isn’t helping me cool down now looking at me the way he does when he wants me. A sight I’ll never get over seeing.

We just manage to make it to the saddling paddock whenRowan and Angel come into view as the announcer talks about Angel’s bloodline, her chances and myself as her trainer.

I take a moment to greet her and nuzzle her, to connect with her in all the chaos to say,“You’ve got this, baby girl.”

Rowan nods at us, his dark eyes always smiling. “We’re as ready as we’re ever going to be. One gate card coming up.” He winks, and although I smile back, I think I might throw up.

Wade chuckles beside me.

“Come on, little mama, let’s go sit. Can’t do anything for her down here in the dirt.”

I nod and follow him up to the owner’s boxes, counting my breaths as I go.

We’ve just taken our places as the announcer’s voice booms through the speakers. He talks about the horses in contention, their aspirations and the winners in their bloodlines as the evaluators, assistants and vet check Angel, her tack and Rowan. All taking notes that decide her fate.

A few minutes seem like an eternity until I see the evaluator give the thumbs up to the recorder, and I scream a little internal scream of joy as Wade rests a big hand on my thigh. So far so good, all she’s got to do now is sprint right out of the gate and the rest is gravy.

That moment of silence takes over the small crowd as all the horses ready. I close my eyes and wait to hear the bell. The moment I do, I let them spring open to find the gates flying back. Just as she’s been trained to do, Angel takes off like a bat out of hell.

“And they’re off in the McKechnie Brothers Quarter Annual Simulation,” the announcer begins as I grip Wade’s hand on my thigh so tight my knuckles whiten instantly.

“Front runnerCosmic Pinestrails up the center.

“Maine’s Footprinthas stumbled, and here comes newcomerAngel’s Wingsout towardCosmic Pines, who’s right there along with Tulsa Oklahoma’sNext Levelat the rail.”

“Definitely gonna throw up,” I say to no one in particular as Wade chuckles again and removes his hand to rub my back.

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re nervous.”

“It’sAngel’s Wingsquickly challenging up the inside.Cosmic Pinesto take the lead as they round the first turn.”

The announcer tells us Angel is neck and neck coming into the first turn.

“Yes! Baby! Go!” I yell.

“It’sMaine’s Footprintin third and the favoredCosmic PinesbetweenAngel’s WingsandNext Levelas they make this run toward the half mile pole.”

The horses stay in sync as they round the corner.

“Now, Ro, now,” I say under my breath, as I watch Rowan shift his weight, signaling Angel just like we’ve trained at the exact moment, and I watch her pull through the corner and switch leads.

“Hells yes, baby,” I say quietly as I pump a fist when Angel and Rowan start gaining on the others. Then I scream because there’s not a shot in hell I can hold it in.

“Angel’s Wingshas taken the lead asCosmic Pinesnow moves toward the quarter pole and drifts to the outside.Footprinthas dropped back from his early efforts as they straighten away down the track.Angel’s Wingsis in front after three-quarters in just one minute.”

I watch the track with baited breath. “You’re turning blue. Breathe, sweetheart,” Wade whispers to me.

Right, breathing is good. I blow out a breath but don’t say a word, I just nod.

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