Racing Savannah

Chapter 18. If Circumstances Were Different

Jack is giving Star a weekend off from racing because the Dixiana Derby is next Saturday.

Out in Greenbriar, I’m all alone as I give Star a bath. After I brush his teeth, he reaches out as if he’s gonna bite my hand, but then he slowly nuzzles it. I look into his eyes and he nickers.

“Hello,” I reply. “Are you glad you have a day off?”

Star snuggles against my shoulder.

“No wonder you haven’t been winning races,” I whisper. “You’ve become a big ole pansy. Racehorses are supposed to be aggressive.” I pump my fist and try to show him I mean business, but he goes back to eating his grain. What a pig.

I hang out with Star the rest of the day, cleaning up his manure and letting him graze in the pasture. Last Saturday night, I went to dinner with Alex at the Cracker Barrel, and we had a good time, but nothing much happened between us. When he drove me home, he gave me a quick peck on the lips. Later tonight we’re going to a movie and I hope this’ll be the night we kiss for real. I don’t mind that we’re taking it slow, but I’m kind of aching for some passion.

Leaning over the fence, I watch Star chase a filly, teasing her, and then he gets ornery and squeals when a yearling colt tries to play with him. I laugh, and Star rewards me by nuzzling my face and hands.

Watching the horses run into the orangey-pink sunset, I totally lose track of time—I need to take a shower soon to get ready for my date, and that’s when I hear footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder to find Jack dressed in his comfy clothes—sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee.

“It’s late. We should put Star and the others back in their stalls.”

“Am I gonna get to ride Star in the Dixiana Derby next week?” I ask.

Jack sniffles, watching Star roll around in the grass grunting. “We’ll have to see what conditions are like that day.”

What he means is he has to see what his father says. How ridiculous.

“Why are you home?” My eyes trail over his sweats. “It’s Saturday night.”

He folds his hands together on top of the fence and studies the horses. “There’s nobody I want to go out with.”

“Not even Colton or Vanessa or Kelsey?”

“Don’t feel like it.” He looks at me sideways, giving me a sad smile.

That’s when Star jogs back over to me. He makes a deep snorting sound and pauses a few feet away. I cluck my tongue. The horse turns his focus from me to Jack then slowly walks forward, squeezing between us. Star nuzzles against Jack’s cheek and nips at his hair.

Jack scratches the colt’s face. “Aw, thanks, buddy.”

Bright stars poke through the lovely pink-orange sunset as Jack and I stand together, petting the horse. I wish he could show the same courage that Star just did. Will Jack ever shove aside the things that scare him?

After we lead Star to his stall, passing farmhands along the way, Jack walks me back to Hillcrest.

“Can we talk later?” he asks quietly. “We could meet out by the lake?”

I shake my head. “I can’t.” I won’t. I won’t get into another situation where we might hook up, no matter how much I want it.

“Please?” he asks softly. “Just as friends?”

“Jack,” I say in a tiny voice. “Don’t…I told you, I can’t. I have plans.”

“I need to talk to you about something…I need you, as a friend, you know?”

How could this end well?

“I got you something.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a weathered, tiny box, and hands it to me. I don’t want gifts. I want to race his horse, I want him to support me in front of his father, I want him to man up.

He nods at the white box. With shaky hands, I carefully open it to discover a silver chain with two charms: a horse and a horseshoe. The chain is kind of rusted, but it’s delicate and pretty. No guy has ever given me jewelry before. I look up into his eyes, searching.

“It belonged to my great-grandmother,” Jack says quietly. “She had red hair and loved horses. Just like you.”

My lips tremble as I stare at the bracelet. “I can’t take this.”

Jack frees it from the box and loops it around my wrist, fastening it. “But it’s perfect for you…and it matches the necklace your mom gave you. Please keep it.”

Mom told me to study history so I could learn from it. Well, everything in my history says that Jack is a player, that he only wants me in secret, that he never actually dates girls, but now he goes and gives me something that belonged to his great-grandmother? It’s like he’s linking our histories together.

I could see a guy giving an expensive, new piece of jewelry to a girl he wants to entice into bed, but not a family heirloom.

“It’s beautiful…”

“You know how important family is to me, right?” he asks. I nod, wiping my nose. “Then you understand what this bracelet means to me.”

I brush a tear out of my eye, not knowing what to say.

He peeks up at me under his eyelashes. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” I admit, touching the bracelet. “But I need more…”

“I’m working on it.”

On Sunday evening, Rory asks me to dinner at Tennessee Ballers.

As soon as we sit down at our table, he pushes his new scene under my nose. This screenplay is about CIA agents—a guy and girl—who are partners fighting for the same promotion, but they’re also secretly in love with each other.

“Will you read my query letter again too?” Rory asks, shuffling through his papers. He’s looking for an agent to sell his screenplays to Hollywood. “I want to send it out tonight.”

“Yeah, after I finish reading this scene.”

“So I take it you like it then?”

“It’s full of gratuitous sex,” I say. “I hate it but I can’t look away.”

Rory laughs softly and pushes the rice around on his plate. Strange. He usually inhales his food.

“How was the date with my cousin last night?” Rory asks.

“Great,” I say, smiling. We ended up parking after the movie and we made out for a little while. He’s a good kisser. “I like him.”

“I’m glad,” Rory says. “I’m not as close with him as my brother is, but Will said it’s a good thing he’s getting out. He had a bad breakup a couple months ago.”

“Oh really? He didn’t mention it…” I worry on my lip. Last night was great. He paid for the tickets and we shared popcorn and laughed at the same parts in the movie. But it’s not like we’re close yet. I haven’t told Alex about any of my hopes and fears or how scared I am for my family now that a little sister is on the way.

“What happens if you never sell a screenplay?” I ask Rory, thinking of my future as a horse jockey.

“I’ll keep trying. I hope I will anyway.”

He wraps straw paper around his finger, peeking up at me. It’s easy to tell when something’s nagging him.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask.

“Um, my father has to declare bankruptcy.”

I cover my mouth with my hand. The farm’s financial problems are that shitty?

Rory rips the straw paper in two. “And we have to move. I guess Dad is gonna try to sell our animals. He hopes the Goodwins will buy our land.” Rory swipes at his eyes and pinches his nose.

“What is your dad gonna do?” I ask with a wobbly voice.

“Mom can get a job as a teacher, we hope, and Dad is gonna try to get on down at the co-op. He knows people there. But it’s like, most of the jobs don’t pay well.”

“It’s a good thing Will went to college instead of staying home to take over the farm,” I whisper, and Rory nods.

“This is all the more reason for me to go,” Rory says. “My dad doesn’t have a degree, so he doesn’t have many job opportunities, not like my mom does. I mean, Mr. Goodwin would probably hire my dad but it would embarrass him bad…”

I grasp his hand. “I’m here for you. It’ll be okay.”

He nods with a sad smile.

“Now let me see that query letter.”

Later that night, I’m still thinking about what would happen if someone else in my family got sick and I had no money to help them to get better. Before Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, we didn’t have health insurance.

I’ve been basing everything on working as an exercise rider or a jockey. I thought this was the ticket to finding a better life. But what if the opportunity to be one dries up? I fell off Star after he got spooked by those raccoons, even though I was being safe as can be. The Goodwins wouldn’t let me race at Keeneland. I love riding horses, but even horsemen don’t bet all their money on one race.

I find that out firsthand when I eavesdrop on Cindy telling Dad, Paula, and Yvonne what she overheard while serving dinner to the Goodwins.

“Mr. Goodwin told the family that Mr. Winchester didn’t accept his initial bid on Paradise Park, and if he wants to stay in the running, he’s gonna have to come up with another million dollars.”

A million dollars!

“Was it because of Master Jack not liking George Winchester’s daughter?” Yvonne asks.

“No,” Cindy replies. “Someone else bid more money apparently.”

Then why did Mr. Winchester blabber on and on about honor and family? It all came down to money?

I wrap my arms around myself, hating that Jack gave up what we had to help his father. Hearing that the Paradise Park deal is all about cold, hard cash makes me feel cold and hard all over. Mr. Whitfield thought he didn’t have to go to college because his farm had existed for over a hundred years. What if, in forty years, I’m dirt poor and living in a shack because I put all my chips in horseracing?

Monday morning, Jack isn’t in first period Life Lessons—he must’ve decided to skip, but I see him in the hallway after. He’s standing with Kelsey Painter, talking quietly to her. She’s rubbing his elbow and he seems upset. When he glances up and sees me, he turns and goes the other way. Kelsey gives me a questioning look, as if she’s trying to figure me out. That’s when she walks up.

“Is he okay?” I ask, staring past her.

She clutches her books against her chest. “You really care about him, huh?”

“I did.” I still do, but I’m not gonna admit that to her.

“That sucks,” she says. She doesn’t sound bitchy or anything; she sounds sad. Is she in Rory’s drama class or something? Because she’s a good actress.

“He really likes you,” Kelsey says.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No…he’s my friend…I can just tell. You should give him another chance.” She looks down the hallway toward where Jack just disappeared. “If I could go back in time, I’d fight harder to keep someone who was important to me—”

She suddenly turns and walks down the hall, meeting up with Colton and Vanessa before heading into English class. What was that all about? Am I supposed to feel sorry for the most popular girl at school? It’s crazy that she feels insecure at her level.

I decide to skip second period and go to the guidance counselor’s office. I swallow as I push open the door, walk up to the assistant, and ask to see Miss Brady about college options. I take a seat and doodle pictures of horses and horseshoes in my notebook as I wait.

Twenty minutes later, she invites me into her office. Along with the inspirational posters, she has loads of pictures of cats wearing clothes…?

I shudder, not sure what freaks me out more: CONFIDENCE or a kitten wearing a plaid beret and matching vest.

“Savannah Barrow?” she says, opening a file folder as she sits down behind her desk. I take the seat in front of her and grasp my knees.

“Why are you interested in college?” she asks, chewing on a pen.

For a lot of reasons, I think. To have lots of paths to choose from. To have the ability to back out of something if it’s not quite what I want. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…and I want to take the one less traveled by.

But what I tell her is: “It’s something I have to do.”

She looks at my file, twisting a lock of her hair. “Your grades aren’t bad, but I’m not sure if you’ll have much of an opportunity for scholarships…maybe we could look into some grants and federal aid. And you need to take the SAT or the ACT.”

Miss Brady passes me a pamphlet and I open it.

“These tests cost money,” I say slowly.

“Everything costs money.”

I clear my throat, thumbing through the pamphlet.

“Depending on your family’s income, we could apply for a fee waiver so you could take the ACT for free.”

“Okay,” I reply quietly, and we go silent for several moments.

“I encourage all kids to go to college, but if you wanted to take a year off or go to community college, you could do that too. Although one time, I read a statistic that said 80 percent of people who don’t go to college right after high school never go. They never find the time.”

I glance down at the Coca Cola T-shirt I bought at a yard sale. Think about my background. All of it is part of me that has led me to now, to this point. Miss Brady is right. If I don’t go now, I’ll never go.

I pull a deep breath. “I want to try,” I say, making the guidance counselor smile.

“Great! What do you want to study?”

The creeptastic motivational posters intimidate me. “I have no idea.”

“And that’s totally okay.”

She spends ten minutes loading me up with more pamphlets and handouts so I can learn about the different state and community colleges in Tennessee.

“Come back and see me next week,” Miss Brady says.

If I want anything in life, I need to take it one step at a time. And if I want to pay for these college application fees or tuition, then I need to do something for me. It might hurt what I can give my baby sister in the near term, but it could help us all in the future.

I walk out into the hallway where I find Jack sipping from the water fountain. He wipes the water from his lips and faces me. Looks down at the papers in my hand. A smile begins to stretch across his face. I return the smile and walk toward the gym.

Before PE, I meet up with Vanessa at her locker, and right then, Rory approaches us.

“Vanessa,” he says breathlessly. “I have an important question for you.”

But before she can react, music rings out in the hallway and random kids start dancing to Lady Gaga’s “Telephone.” It’s all choreographed. Wait. Are these kids from Rory’s drama class? Is this a flash mob?

Vanessa and I burst out giggling as the students keep dancing and then Rory joins in, holding up a sign asking Vanessa if she wants to go to Homecoming.

“Yes!” she says, and they start kissing, and the flash mob keeps grinding away around us. Colton whistles and Kelsey cheers, looking happy. Jack gazes over at me and grins, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Woooo!” I yell, cupping my mouth, my voice ringing out through the corridor.

After school, Vanessa gives me a lift home from school, and we totally take over the Hillcrest common room to eat candy, read magazines, and gossip. Ethan—Jodi’s son—has a friend over, and they keep peeking around the corner at us. Preteen pervs.

Vanessa bites into a Twizzler and turns the page in her magazine. “I was thinking a dress like this one.” She points at a short blue wispy thing.

“I love that! For Homecoming?”

“Yeah.” She flips the page and points at a white dress. “You should get something like this.”

“I like it…”

“Are you going with Alex? Did you invite him yet?”

I shake my head. “I might…there’s a big race that day in New Orleans at Fair Grounds. Gael has been saying that Jack might enter Star…but I’m not even sure if I’ll get to ride him.”

Vanessa pats my hand. “Don’t give up, okay? You know you can ride—it was just muddy before that race and Jack wanted to keep you safe. He told me so himself.”

I nod slowly, feeling heat spread across my cheeks. I’m kind of embarrassed how bratty I acted that day. I must’ve been channeling Star.

“If you decide to go to Homecoming, you and Alex should ride with me and Rory,” Vanessa says, and we dive into a discussion about the guys, talking about how far we’ve gone with them. “I only slept with Rory that one time after his brother’s wedding. We want to take things slower, you know?”

“I get that.”

“Have you done anything with Alex yet?”

“We’ve kissed…” The big difference between our situations is that I can tell how much she loves Rory already, and I haven’t felt that way about Alex yet. Maybe it just takes time?

Vanessa talks about how she and Rory were fooling around in his truck in the Whitfields’ garage, and his father caught them and made Rory go clean the manure collector again. “I think Rory thought it was worth it though.” She laughs, and Ethan and his friend gasp from the hallway.

“Get out of here, you little perverts!” I yell, throwing a couch pillow at the boys. Vanessa and I collapse onto the floor in a fit of giggles.

“You silly girls.” We peek up to find Cindy smiling down at us, one hand on her stomach. “Savannah, do you want to come out to eat with me and your dad? He got a bonus for some races and wants to treat us.”

I glance at Vanessa. “We’re hanging out right now.”

“Vanessa can come too if she wants.”

Vanessa nods, and I shrug okay. We’ve never had the money to invite a friend of mine out to eat. I’m really proud of my father—for taking a risk and moving us to Cedar Hill and trying to do something good for his family.

The next thing I know, we’re at the Roadhouse, one of the best restaurants in Franklin. Old street signs and highway markers cover the wooden walls and rock music blares. People love coming here because you get to eat peanuts and throw shells on the floor. And don’t even get me started on how good those breadbaskets smell.

We’re seated at a table, and a girl from school is our server. I’ve never talked to Annie Winters before, but she seems nice and smiles as she takes our drink order. Vanessa leans over and whispers that she and Kelsey used to hang out with Annie freshman year, but after Annie started dating this guy, they grew apart and Kelsey is still upset about it. Still, Vanessa is friendly enough with her. Annie brings us a free appetizer of cheese fries and an extra breadbasket.

“Shortcake, if you don’t stop eating that bread, you’re gonna gain too much weight to be a jockey,” Dad says with a grin, and I smile through a mouthful, glad he still thinks I’ve got what it takes to race.

Vanessa keeps asking Cindy a bazillion questions about the baby. “Like, do you know what the baby is thinking?”

“I think I know when she’s mad—she kicks up a storm. She’s doing it right now.”

I reach over and touch her stomach. The baby’s feet feel like drumbeats. “Porsche is gonna be a drummer.”

Cindy gives me a wry smile. “We are not naming the baby after a car.”

When Rory drops me off at Cedar Hill after school the next day, I find a Facebook message from Alex asking me to call him. Sometimes it really sucks not having a cell.

I use the house cordless to call him and he picks up on the second ring. “Hey, you,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face.

“Hey.” I can hear his grin through the phone.

“What are you doing?” I lie down on the couch and point my toes toward the ceiling, excited that I’m talking to a cute boy on the phone. The gardener, Mr. Wallace, looks up from his newspaper and shakes his head at me.

“I wanted to talk to you about something…We’ve been having fun the past few weeks, right?”

“Yeah.”

I hear him take a deep breath. I slowly lower my legs to the couch.

“My ex and I…well, we dated since high school up until a couple of months ago, and I wanted to let you know that we still talk—”

“And?” I say, suddenly out of breath.

“I’m not saying she and I are serious again or anything.”

“What?” I’m so confused. It’s not like Alex and I are exclusive, but we did make out.

“It’s not fair to you if I’m starting to talk to my ex again.”

“Yeah, it’s not…” I say with a wobbly voice. “Do you love her?”

“I’ll always love her…but just because you love somebody doesn’t mean you should be with them. It’s harder than that.”

It sure is.

“I want to keep spending time with you,” Alex says.

“So you’re telling me that we can keep seeing each other, but you might work things out with your ex?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he says quietly. “God, that makes me sound like a complete asshole.”

“Yeah, kinda.” Believe it or not, hearing that he loves someone brings a small smile to my face. I don’t want to lose him, because I’ve enjoyed kissing him and hanging out, but I want to be with a guy who’s 100 percent there. I want a guy who’s all mine. And considering how often I think of Jack, I never would have been 100 percent there for Alex. And that’s just not right.

“It might be good if you focus on her, all right?”

Our conversation doesn’t last much longer—it’s just Alex apologizing over and over, and I tell him it’s okay, even though I don’t really feel okay.

We hang up and I set the cordless back in the docking station. Well. That sucks. I stick my thumbs in my eyes to keep the tears at bay. I want someone I can laugh, cuddle, and talk with anytime I want, someone who truly wants me. Loves me.

At least I’ve got other things to do this afternoon. After blowing my nose, I go to my room, put on my nicest outfit—black pants and a white shirt that belonged to Mom—and charge up to the manor house. I know I’m not allowed inside unless I’m working, but I’m not gonna sit around waiting for Mr. Goodwin to cross my path.

I sneak in the back kitchen door and head through the dining room to the main staircase that leads up to the suite of offices. I spot Paula spraying Windex on a mirror. I sneak down a different hallway and go up another set of stairs.

When I reach Mr. Goodwin’s assistant’s desk, she sets down her letter opener and the envelope she’s holding. “Can I help you?”

“I’d like to make an appointment,” I say, holding my chin high.

Jack appears in the doorway of his office. “Are you here to see me?” he asks, looking hopeful.

I summon my strongest voice. “No. I need to discuss something with your father.”

“Can I help you with it instead?” Jack asks, sticking his thumbs in his belt loops. “Dad’s a busy guy.”

I shake my head. “Only your dad.”

“Janet, tell my father Savannah needs to see him.”

The assistant presses the intercom button and speaks into it. Then Jack goes and opens the double doors to Mr. Goodwin’s office, jerking his head, indicating I should walk on in.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I pass by Jack. The door clicks shut behind me and I find myself in a room lit with floor-to-ceiling windows and softened with sheer, wispy curtains. The sofas and chairs are covered with a creamy fabric and fancy rugs cover the hardwood floor. Unlike Jack’s office, there are no TVs or computers. Am I in an Elven palace from The Lord of the Rings or something?

Mr. Goodwin glances up with a brief smile. “What can I do for you?”

He doesn’t invite me to sit, so I stand in front of his desk where he’s sorting through yellow message slips and writing in a leather-bound journal.

“Sir, I know I asked you to keep the money I make exercising your horses and racing in case Cindy and my dad need it, but I’d like to change that arrangement.”

That gets his attention. He sets his pen down, crosses his hands, and looks up at me. “Oh? How do you wish to change it?”

“I want to keep the money I make from now on for myself.”

A tiny smile flits across his face. “What are your plans for the money? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I look out the window, at the rows of huge barns and the racetrack and all the workers, amazed that one person owns all this. Mr. Goodwin didn’t build it, but his family did.

And now I want to start building something for me. For my family. For the future.

“I want to use it for college applications,” I say. “And to take the ACT.”

Mr. Goodwin nods and smiles. “Good. I’ll make sure you start getting regular paychecks.”

“Thank you, sir. Hope you have a nice day.” I turn to leave but Mr. Goodwin calls my name. I swivel around to face him.

“Savannah, I didn’t take any of the money you’ve made so far.”

“What?” I say, leaning forward.

“I saved it all.” He pushes an intercom button and asks his assistant to send Mr. Blakely in. “You’ve worked hard for that money and you need to spend it on you. A man should settle his own debts.”

A minute later, a tall man dressed in a suit appears in the office.

“This is Mr. Blakely, one of my stall managers,” he says. “Michael, how much money has Savannah made so far? Including the race where she placed third?”

The man opens a black portfolio and shuffles through the papers, dragging his finger down a ledger. “About $1,750.”

I sit down on the couch, unable to stand. I cover my face. I’ve never seen that much money in my whole life.

“Before you send out your college applications,” Mr. Goodwin says, “make sure you have my assistant and Jack look over them, understand?”

I taste salty tears at the back of my throat. “I will.”

“Blakely,” Mr. Goodwin says. “Give us a minute.” After the man leaves, Mr. Goodwin raps his pen on his desk. “Savannah, your father came to see me the other day. He wasn’t aware you’d asked to help with Cindy’s paychecks.”

I nod.

“Your father wanted to make sure I hadn’t done what you asked…and he asked me for help with college advice.”

My head pops up. “He did?”

“I ordered him some books and catalogs on student loans and scholarships to look at. We were going to meet about it next week.”

“You were?” I exclaim. Dad didn’t tell me anything. Maybe he didn’t want me to get my hopes up? “But why?” Mr. Cates’s uncaring expression flashes in my mind. “Why do you care if I go to college? Wouldn’t it be better for you if I just stay here and exercise horses and wax the floors or whatever?”

Mr. Goodwin smiles and slips his pen behind his ear. “When I was about your age, my father taught me something. He said that my staff is everything.

“I don’t do any of the important work like training a yearling. Keeping a mare calm as she delivers a foal. Making sure the horses are clean. I don’t even feed my own kids. Jodi cooks them healthy meals. My staff takes care of me and my family.”

I nod slowly.

“I’ve always tried to take good care of my staff. I’m going to make sure Cindy has some time off before and after the baby comes. I won’t let anything happen to your family, understand? You all have been good to us. My staff is too important.”

I wipe the corner of my eye, smiling as I nod.

The intercom buzzes. “Mr. Goodwin, your four p.m. appointment is here,” the assistant says.

“Thank you, sir,” I say. He gives me a friendly nod and goes back to studying his notebook.

I open the heavy wooden doors to let myself out. “Oh, and, sir?” I say loud enough for both Jack and his father to hear me. “I want to race Star in the Dixiana Derby at Paradise Park.”

“We’ll see.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply in a low voice, stepping out of his office and shutting the doors behind me. I’m proud of myself for trying at least.

Jack gives me a quizzical look when I march past him. “What’s going on?”

“I was just getting something I want,” I say with a smile, and race down the stairs, feeling Jack’s eyes on my back.

I head for the stables—I want to take Star out for a while. And hopefully Dad is in Greenbriar and can help me saddle him up.