last month, he entered Marco in his first race and the chestnut won by a clear two lengths with Riley on his back.
Looking back, Georgie wasn’t surprised that Riley had turned Marco around. Her boyfriend had a way of getting a song out of the most difficult horses. Sometimes Georgie could swear that he had the ability to read their minds. How else could you explain the change in Marco?
“The talented horses are always temperamental,” Riley told Georgie. “Marco just needed someone to believe in him.”
Riley’s belief in Marco was proven justified when the horse won again in his second race. This time the win was hard-fought. Riley had been boxed in behind a clutch of riders on the railing all the way to the three-quarter marker. Things had looked impossible but somehow he had found a hole and driven the chestnut hard towards it to break free of the pack, putting on a burst of speed in the home straight to edge out in front of the favourite by a nose.
Even with two wins under their belt, Riley wasn’t content.
“He’s still holding back. There’s more speed in him,” Riley told Georgie as they walked together back to the stables. “Look at him! He’s hardly even breathing hard.”
Jogging and skipping alongside Riley, Marco was bounding about as if the track beneath his feet were made of hot coals. Riley didn’t pay any attention to the Thoroughbred’s dangerous antics and eventually Marco stopped larking about and settled down. By the time they had reached the stables he was walking sedately at his jockey’s side.
That was the way it was with Riley and horses, Georgie mused. He was real quiet with them, but somehow he always got them to do exactly as he wanted. She had seen that from the moment she met him. She’d been having trouble with Belle in her first term at Blainford and it was Kenny, the Academy’s caretaker, who suggested that she get some help from his nephew.
Georgie had been expecting some wizened guy like The Horse Whisperer but it turned out that Riley was a teenager just like her. Riley’s dad, John Conway, was the owner of Clemency Farm and Riley worked for him riding track most mornings before his classes at the local High School.
Riley and Georgie had been dating for a term now – despite predictions of doom from Daisy who said it was plain crazy even trying to go out with a boy who didn’t attend Blainford. Georgie knew that Riley had his own reservations about dating a girl from a private equestrian school. It didn’t help that total numnahs like Conrad were determined to cause trouble. The last time Riley had clashed with Conrad, the Burghley House head prefect found himself pinned to the wall with a polo mallet at his throat. Georgie hadn’t asked Riley back to a school event since then. And she was hardly going to tell him about the fatigues that the prefect had given her last week.
Riley led the gelding into his loose box back at the stable block, and Georgie bolted the door after him.
“Did I tell you that I’m going to enter him in the Hanley Stakes?” Riley asked. “I figure he needs one more outing before the Firecracker, just to keep him on form.”
“What sort of race is it?” Georgie asked as she undid Marco’s girth.
“A grade three, over a mile and a half,” Riley told her as he slipped the gelding’s bridle off. “It’s a big distance for him, but I want to see how he handles it. He’ll be up against The Rainmaker.”
Georgie had heard of The Rainmaker. Thoroughbred Magazine had called the jet-black stallion “one of the most perfectly put together Thoroughbreds the sport of racing has ever seen” and the smart money was on the big black horse to win at Churchill Downs. At sixteen-three hands high, The Rainmaker was a massive horse compared to Marco who stood at a mere fifteen-two.
Georgie slid the saddle pad off Marco’s back, and nearly collapsed under its weight. “Ohmygod!”
“Are you OK?” Riley rushed to take the saddle from her. “Be careful. It’s heavy.”
How could such a tiny jockey’s saddle weigh so much? Georgie stuck her hands into one of the pockets stitched into the brown leather and pulled out a round metal disc.
“What are these?”
“Lead weights,” Riley said. “All horses have to carry a certain weight when they run. It’s a handicap to even out the odds.”
“So will Marco have to carry weights when you race him in the Firecracker?”
“Nah,” Riley pulled two more weights out of the lead pad. “I’m already heavier than most of the other jockeys anyway. And Marco and me aren’t the favourites by any stretch. But all the same, I’ve been training him to carry the maximum – just in case.”
He went to take the saddle out of Georgie’s hands, but she refused.
“I’m going to be Dominic Blackwell’s groom this week,” she said. “So I might as well get used to doing all the work.”
“So this Blackwell guy, he’s, like, a top showjumper?”
“Uh-huh,” Georgie said. “I’ll be working for him for six weeks and if he gives me a good grade then I’m through into the second-year eventing class – otherwise, well, I’m just through.”
“So you’re working for him during school?”
“Uh-huh,” Georgie said. “And after school and weekends – you know, helping out at the competitions.”
“So I should expect to see you again when? Next Christmas, maybe?” Riley said sarcastically.
“It won’t be that bad!” Georgie was taken aback. “We’ll figure something out.”
Riley looked doubtful. “I hardly get any time with you, Georgie. All the other guys at my school are always taking their girls out on dates. We never go anywhere together.”
“We’re together now,” Georgie said. “I bet most girls don’t get up at four a.m. to be with their boyfriends!”
Riley looked hurt. “I thought you liked coming to Keeneland Park.”
“I do!” Georgie groaned. “And I don’t need to go on a date with you. I’m happy just being here like this. It’s not my fault that I have school and this apprenticeship – this is who I am, Riley.”
“I get that,” Riley said. “I guess I was hoping you’d be able to help me out over the next few weeks with Marco’s training.”
“I’ll try,” Georgie said, “but this apprenticeship is really important.”
“So the Firecracker isn’t important?” Riley frowned. “It’s a $232,000 race. I think it’s a bit more important than impressing some showjumping guy.”
Georgie felt herself getting flustered. She took a deep breath. “Listen, can we not get into a fight about this?”
Riley didn’t say anything. He cast a surly glance at his watch. “It’s almost six thirty. I’ll mix Marco’s feed and then we’ll go.”
The drive back to Blainford was tense and silent. But eventually, as they got closer to the school, Riley’s mood seemed to thaw a little.
