Bloodless Day

When it Rains, it Pours

It's always raining in Kentucky.

Water dripped down the barn roofs, splashing into puddles down below. Somewhere in the distance, a horse sloshed through what sounded to be a lake. The rat-a-tat of rain on aluminum filled everybody's eardrums. Except for the rain, the world was in total silence.

And I was curled up in the jockey's lounge, BD's saddle on my lap, determinedly scrubbing away at mud that had jumped to meet the leather when he'd gone out for a jog. Willifred was happy with how he'd handled the mud and let us turn in early, usually a punishment but recently a reward in the horrid weather. A smile touched my lips as I remembered the way he'd snorted in shock when a horse in front of him had kicked mud into his face, and then dug in deeper to pass the horse. Jack had pulled him up, laughing, "this horse doesn't mind the mud on his feet, but we'll have to keep him in front so he doesn't get any on his face!"

Not that keeping him in front was a problem. His past two races he had led wire-to-wire, totally dominated both of them. A few racing enthusiasts were starting to watch him with more than a little interest.

So Far So Good in California, however, was gaining a lot of interest. He'd been putting in remarkable times, raced once at Santa Anita, won by eight lengths, and was now being put away until the three year old season. Talk of the Derby was already surrounding him and Lilac, despite it being many months away still.

I scrubbed ever harder at the saddle, concentrating on a stain I'd passed over the last time I cleaned it, trying not to miss Lilac. We'd spoken once or twice on the phone, but it was now September and she hadn't phoned in over a month. We were both busy, but school seemed pointless without her. It was odd to know that I'd be graduating in less than a year without a friend by my side, when so many years ago I wouldn't have even considered not being together.

A lump formed in my throat. She should've been graduating with me.

The door to the jockey lounge creaked open, but as the back of my chair faced it, I couldn't see who entered. I rubbed furiously at the saddle, determined to seem busy despite being guiltily aware of the grooms fighting through the rain, armed with pitchforks and wheelbarrows as they mucked stalls.

Whoever had just entered grunted, and there was the sound of a thump on the couch. They smelled overwhelmingly of wet horse and more than a little bit of manure. I crinkled my nose.

"Dammit. I can't keep doing this... where's the ice?" It was Jack's voice.

"The freezer," I answered automatically. "What can't you keep doing?"

"Anna?! You scared me! I thought I was alone." I put the saddle down and whirled in my chair to face the couch, where Jack was sat gingerly. One of his pant legs was rolled up, and he was massaging the exposed skin even as he met my gaze in surprise. I narrowed my eyes.

"What can't you keep doing?" I repeated.

He yanked his hands away from his leg. "Getting rained on," he snapped.

"Liar." Remembering his need for ice, I slithered from my cushy armchair and retrieved an ice pack from the soda-stocked fridge, passing it over to the jockey. He took it after a moment, misgivings scribbled in his hesitation. "Why does your leg hurt? Did you fall?"

"Awhile ago," he muttered, holding ice to his leg. With a flash of panic, I realized it was the leg he'd shattered in Shamrock's accident.

"You idiot! It's still aching? Did it even ever fully heal?"

Jack winced, his face turning a shade lighter. "Don't tell anybody," he growled. "They won't let me race if they realize..."

"How much it hurts?" Torn between exasperation and worry, I sank onto the couch beside him, head cupped in my hands. "How long have you been like this?"

Seeming to recognize that I wouldn't relax the issue, Jack answered slowly, "it hasn't ever not been like this. Ever since the accident.... but it's getting worse. The short jockey stirrups really aren't helping."

"You're not riding until this heals," I said flatly. "Completely. You'll end up permanently damaging something."

"But Bloodless Day has his next race in a month!" Jack protested. "And a few of my other horses are racing this weekend. Anna, trust me, I'm perfectly fine. This is something all jockeys go through. It's not an easy sport."

"Not all jockeys are so badly injured that the doctors aren't sure if they'd be able to ride again, let alone race! That they gave you permission to is miracle enough."

Jack remained silent.

My eyes widened. "You did-"

The door opened, letting in a rush of wind, water, and grooms. Laughing, they all started towards the fridge, and in the confusion Jack managed to hide the ice pack, pull down the pant leg, and hiss in my ear, "don't breathe a word of this to anybody."

The grooms didn't notice us at first as they retrieved sodas and bags of chips, but when they turned around they paused for a moment in surprise to see Jack and I on the couch.

"We were just cleaning my saddle," I blurted, trying to cover for Jack, and pointed unnecessarily at the saddle, laying quite beyond our reach on the floor in front of my chair.

This statement was met with raised eyebrows and a few disbelieving smiles, but the grooms filed out of the lounge and back to their work without any comment, Ned amongst them.

"Cheers, mate," he grinned, lifting his soda. Once the door was closed behind him, I shoved away from Jack and retrieved my saddle.

"You're welcome for covering for you," I said irritably, sinking back onto the couch with the saddle and soap. Jack chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing. Thanks, Anna. Can you get me another ice? This one's already melting."

I did.

"I can't believe you didn't get permission! In fact, I bet the doctor said you couldn't ride again, let alone race! If you hurt yourself while riding-"

"I'd rather die than live with an injury that keeps me from riding again," Jack said stubbornly. "I am physically capable of getting in the saddle, staying on, and getting off. That's good enough for me."

Sometimes, I really hate equestrians. They're so stupid about things like this.

"Fine," I growled. The saddle was finished, so I stood up. "But you better not destroy BD's chance with this."

"Actually," Jack's voice sounded behind me as I headed for the door. "I was thinking, to give my leg a break, that you could totally take over his exercise and all of his riding, beside races of course."

Sometimes, I really hate equestrians. We're so stupid about things like this.

"Sure."

*****

This scene is loosely inspired by a pretty bad fall I had a few days ago. For a few moments I couldn't move or talk, and I panicked because I'll never be able to ride again. Of course, within five minutes I got back on, but still. It's terrifying.

I just noticed that not only did Bloodless Day reach 2k views, it also passed it! Thank you guys so much! Every bit of support means the world, honestly. ♡♡

Hope everyone's having a wonderful summer!

-Iggy