Racing Savannah (Hundred Oaks #4)
Page 32“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’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.
“Is this for real?” I mumble. “What you said about me being your girlfriend?”
“I’m serious,” he whispers, holding our hands up where anyone can see them. “I’ve never cared about anyone else like this.”
“And we’re exclusive?”
“Yup,” he says.
“But what about Paradise Park? Mr. Winchester’ll never sell it to your father now.”
He rubs his thumb across the back of my hand. “I’ll tell Dad there are other racetracks. And besides, Paradise Park has crappy plumbing.”
“Crappy plumbing.”
“That’s right.”
I grin and he grins back. As we walk up, Mr. Goodwin looks from his son to our hands and shakes his head.
“Savannah and I are going out now,” Jack announces to our fathers and Rory.
Rory drops the brush he is holding and his mouth falls open. He digs in his pocket, yanks out his cell, and starts texting. Such a gossip that boy is.
Dad rubs his eyes.
“What happened to your face?” Mr. Goodwin asks Jack.
“Marcus Winchester looks a lot worse, I promise.”
Mr. Goodwin looks freaked out for a second, but then he grins. “That’s my boy.”
“I’ll tell you what happened in private,” Jack says to his father, pulling me up next to him. “It’s time to get Star and Savannah ready for the race.”
Mr. Goodwin says, “Your mother will be angry with me for allowing you to date one of our staff. It won’t look right, and there could be issues if you don’t work out.”
“You sneak hot dogs behind Mom’s back all the time! I’m responsible for the farm, and I can make my own decisions.”
“A man stands by his decisions,” Mr. Goodwin says.
“Yes, sir, he does,” Jack replies.
“We’ll talk more about this later, understand?”
“I don’t agree with this any more than Jack’s father does,” Dad says to me slowly. “But I want you to be happy, whatever that means for you. I know how much you care about your family and want to do the right thing by us. And I want to do the right thing by you.” Dad wraps me in his arms, hugging me hard.
Jack faces our fathers. “After the race, can Savannah stay the night at our house in Kentucky with us?”
“I’d love to,” I say, and I catch Mr. Goodwin and Dad exchanging a freaked-out look.
“I want to cook you dinner,” Jack says to me, ignoring our gaping fathers. Dad wipes sweat off his forehead. “She thinks I can’t grill, but I can.” He squeezes my hand. “Wait…I’ll be back in a few. I’ve gotta do something. Whitfield—come help me.”
He sprints out of the barn with Rory at his ankles. Jesus Lord, where’s he going now?
“Jack!” Mr. Goodwin calls, following his son.
The other men clear out of the barn, leaving me to collect Star’s tack and get him in the zone for the race. I pat his nose and look him in the eye. We have a staring contest that goes on for at least a minute, but then a mare passing by our stall distracts him.
“I win!” I hug his neck. “I love you.”
He nips at my hair, saying he loves me too.
Jack meets up with me at the paddock after Shelby helped me get Star saddled up and ready to go.
“How you doing?” Jack whispers in my ear.
“Good,” I say. I don’t want to jinx myself by saying that I’ve never been on such a high, that I have a feeling Star and I are in good shape for today. “Thank you for this.”
“Thank you,” Jack replies, smiling at me before turning his focus back to his horse. He walks around Star one last time, inspecting him, before wishing me luck and pecking my cheek.
Dad mounts a pony and leads us out onto the track. He leans over and pats Star’s head as we begin to warm up. Star barely pays attention to the pony. He must know this race is important.
When we get to the starting gate, I take a deep breath and Dad pats my back. “I’m proud of you, and your mom would be too.”
I smile as Star enters the gate and the gates close behind me. I’m in the fourth position, the best place to be. For the first time ever, the horse doesn’t go crazy when we’re inside the gate.
“You got this, Star,” I say, breathing calmly.
The bell rings loud and clear. The gates bang open.
“And they’re off!” the announcer says, and everything goes silent except for the sound of hooves slamming the ground.
Star breaks well. I settle behind Dancing Delight and That’s My Boy. Everybody eases up around the first turn. I grab a good position on the rail. Dancing Delight leads the way to the backstretch. I’m two off the lead when the pack moves together on the far turn.
I own the rail and we pick up speed as we make our way past That’s My Boy.
I yell, “Move your ass, Star!”
That’s My Boy challenges us, making me settle back into third. At the home stretch, I’m two lengths off the lead. On the final furlong, I use the whip and yell Star’s name. I make up the distance. Overtake Dancing Delight on the final furlong. But he grabs it back.
We lose by a length!
Second place. Damn.
As Star begins to relax, I pull my goggles off and set them on top of my helmet with a sigh. Is he ever gonna win one? I lean down and hug Star long and hard. We circle back around, and the only person I want to see must be swallowed up in that sea of reporters, because I can’t find him anywhere.
I ride up to the paddock. Reporters are all over me. Cameras are flashing. People are hollering. Second place with a half a mil purse is nothing to cry home about. Star just won $125K for Cedar Hill.
“Jack!” I peer through the crowd to find him wedging his way between people. He breaks free and darts up to slap Star’s side and rub his ears.
“Good boy,” Jack says, rubbing the horse’s muzzle and smiling up at me.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a sob.
“You’ll win next time. I know it.” He holds my gaze, grinning, and I squeeze his hand. “Come down here,” Jack says, and I let him pull me off the horse. Gael grabs the reins. And when a photographer gets in my face to snap a picture, Jack pulls me into a long kiss, wrapping his arms around me, cocooning me like he’ll never let go. And I kinda hope he doesn’t.
“I swear,” I hear Mr. Goodwin say. “Do you have to kiss her in front of everybody?”
“Yes,” Jack replies, then dives right back in, kissing me again.
“I thought Jack had a girlfriend—that Winchester girl,” Mrs. Goodwin says, sounding confused and pissed. “John, why is our son kissing Danny’s daughter? John, what’s going on?”
“How romantic,” Shelby sighs.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dad says.
“This would be a great climactic scene,” Rory adds, and out of the corner of my eye, I catch him jotting down notes.
Star sniffs my hair and nuzzles his neck between our heads. Jack and I break apart.
“Is my horse trying to cock block me?” he whispers in my ear.
“Appears so.”
“If he hadn’t done so well, I’d send him to New York to drag a tourist carriage. For real this time.”
Jack and I smile, continuing to kiss, and even though we’re not in the winner’s circle, I feel like I won.
Laughter and hooting and hollering distract me, and when I pull away from his lips, he turns me to face the scoreboard. It reads:
Sav—Will you go to homecoming with me?—Jack
I laugh. “That’s so much better than a skywriter!”