The Secret Journey Read Online Free PDF

indifferent or
hostile - that's not a horse to work with. Watch for the colt that
meets your gaze, that stands its ground, assesses you, comes to see
what you are. Size and form don't make winners, spirit and courage
do. You have to know how to judge winners. I’m a trainer, that’s
what I do.
    Women are no different. This one wore clothes
of casual style on a firm, athletic body, but it was her posture
that drew my eye - upright and confident, shoulders square, back
straight, neither flaunting her breasts nor hiding them. Her walk
was an easy stride with a natural roll to her hips, and she
navigated the crowd by the betting windows as though entitled to
the space they gave her. She was a thoroughbred. More than that,
she was a winner. Her spirit showed. She met my gaze in passing,
gave me the same dismissive look she gave a thousand men a day. A
woman like that draws notice, and she hasn't got time to invite
attention from every idle gawker. Cut them down fast, get on with
business is her automatic reaction. I held her gaze, watched her
eyes widen at my impertinence, then narrow in warning. I cocked an
eyebrow, watched her response, watched her blink and look away, and
then she walked past as though she'd never seen me. I smiled to
myself. I'd be seeing her again.
    I turned back to watch the start, the
business at hand. Aurora Australis was running this one, with Lacey
Dubois in saddle. Aurora was a winner, an eighteen hand stallion
who lived for the race. Lacey was not, despite her casual style and
firm, athletic body, her posture gave her away. She was the owner's
daughter, spoiled and haughty, and far too concerned with wresting
daddy's attention from her over-competitive mom. Lacey was the
wrong rider for a horse like Aurora, but that was a decision beyond
my control. The bell went and they started well, running hard in
front of Red Rocket. It was the race Aurora was born to run, with a
hard charging rival and victory in his teeth. By the first turn he
had a head. By the back straight he would have had half a length on
his own, but Lacey went wild with the crop, broke his rhythm and it
was neck and neck. Rocket crowded her and she lost her nerve.
Aurora sensed her uncertainty and he slowed in response. In the
last turn Rocket slid in front, then Miracle Worker hemmed them in
from the side. Still Lacey drove him, though the race was now over,
there was nowhere for them to go. At the finish they showed, behind
Miracle Worker by a head. I nodded, made notes. It was what I had
expected, in outline if not in detail. Aurora ran best when given
his lead, and Lacey was not one to do that.
    "Did your horse win?" It was the woman, it
hadn't taken her long. Dark eyes and dark hair, pretty features, no
hint of uncertainty shows in her voice as she approaches the
stranger I am to her. She's used to being in control, this one.
    "I don't have one running."
    "But surely you bet." Her look is arch. She's
deciding if she'll bet on me.
    I shake my head. "I never gamble."
    "So what are you doing here? I've seen you
before." Her curiosity is genuine.
    "I'm a trainer."
    She hesitates, eyes widening just a touch.
She hadn't expected that.
    I smile. "Wait there, please." I point to one
of the stadium seats in the aisle behind me. Her face shows
confusion, then challenge, then acceptance. She drops her eyes and
turns to sit down. I return my attention to the track, as the next
set of horses parades past to the gate. I watch their postures,
watch their gaits. These are my rivals, my competition, and it is
important to know where they stand. I can see her reflection in the
glass barrier in front of me, sitting awkwardly, uncomfortable.
She's unused to this sort of situation, unused to being in less
than total control. She doesn't like waiting there, but she knows
what she needs. And so do I.
    The bell rings, the horses run. There is
another winner, and more losers. I study form, make notes, mark two
late runners who show hidden potential. It is