What I wouldn’t give to feel that sort of all-encompassing love. But is it safe? The boy goose will have to spend the rest of his life with a broken heart. Was the short time he had with the girl goose worth it?

I hope so. I wouldn’t trade the time I shared with my mother. Or with Moonshadow.

I walk alongside the lake and soon I’m on Goodwin land again. Jack’s three hounds bound up to me, barking playfully. I glance around, expecting to find Jack because he’s always with his dogs, and spot him sitting on a picnic table next to a pile of rocks. One by one, he hurls the rocks into the lake, watching them splash.

A grin spreads across my face. Remembering last night’s kisses makes me shiver all over again. I take a deep breath, waiting for him to see I’m here. But it looks like he’s in a dream world. His eyes are hazy and withdrawn.

I pull a deep breath through my nose and make my way over to the picnic table. The hounds flop down in the dirt and roll around like roly-polies.

Jack keeps staring at the lake, but he smiles when I sit down next to him.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey.”

“It’s beautiful out here.”

“Thor, Athena, and Jasper like the water.” He gestures at the hounds. “We come here a lot.”

“They seem like good friends to you.”

“They are. Although Jasper isn’t so much a friend as a frenemy.”

“Did you just say frenemy?”

“This past summer? I decided to take a swim in the lake. I took off all my clothes except my underwear, and then Jasper stole my shorts and T-shirt. I had to walk in the house wearing wet boxers.”

I laugh, and Jack laughs too as Jasper looks up at us and cocks his head, probably wondering why we humans said his name. “And then Yvonne started yelling at Jasper, telling the dog that only she’s allowed to handle the family’s laundry.”

“I’m sorry I missed that. You know, the part about Yvonne yelling—not you in your boxers…oh, um.” My skin heats up and I shake the sexy images out of my head. “Would you stop trying to distract me?”

“Talking about my underwear distracts you? If only I’d known that sooner.” Jack grins fiendishly as he leans toward me, grabbing my wrist and rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

I dip my head and move toward his mouth, wetting my lips. But he suddenly pulls away and focuses on the lake. I hold my breath.

“So, you and me…last night.” He exhales deeply.

“I liked it…”

“I did too…but I don’t know how this is gonna work out. I’m not saying it can’t, but I don’t know how it will…”

I yank away from him and stuff my hands between my knees again. Why did I lean in? Why was I so presumptuous to think he’d want to kiss me again?

“My father called me to his office a little while ago,” Jack says, nervously rapping his knuckles on the picnic tabletop. “He said that Mr. Winchester called to say thanks for dinner. Mr. Winchester said that I impressed him. And my dad was proud of me for that…and proud that I’m becoming a responsible farm owner…a good man.”

“And?” I ask quietly. A slimy feeling washes over me.

“And I don’t want to disappoint my dad…you know? I wasn’t a gentleman last night.”

“My dad and Cindy would kill me anyway,” I say defensively. “The maids say you have one-night stands all the time.”

Jack pauses for a long moment, looking me head-on. “I don’t have one-night stands all the time, no matter what the maids say. I’ve only slept with one person. And I cared about her.”

That’s one more person than I’ve slept with. But I’m glad to hear he’s not the total man whore the maids made him out to be. He must’ve slept with Senator Lukens’s daughter, the girl Rory said he dated last year. Or was it the country singer? Never mind, I don’t want to know.

“I can’t mess up this Paradise Park deal for my dad,” Jack says. “It’s his dream to own a big racetrack!”

“And what do you think? What do you want?”

“I like you…a lot…” He pauses to rub his lower lip with his thumb. “But I’m not sure we can have anything—I’m not sure what I can give you…besides last night, I mean. I do like you so much but dating somebody who works for me wouldn’t look right—”

Thank God we didn’t go further than kissing. Why did he woo me with kisses that taste better than lollipops when he knew it could never work out? How dare he treat me like a poor loser? This is why I don’t trust rich jerks!

“—and my parents would be disappointed.” Jack sighs and rubs his eyes. He looks upset.

I love my family too. It could be nice to have a connection with my baby sister when she’s born. Thinking of her, and thinking of Jack’s love for his family, brings me back to reality. Ensuring my dad keeps his new job is what’s most important right now. Not being with Jack. This is why I was trying to keep my distance in the first place.

But it hurts. Bad.

I want to scream at him for kissing me, for leading me on, but I don’t want to be a mean, vindictive girl. That’s not who I am. I don’t need a guy to validate me. And on top of that, I don’t want to ruin what we do have: a great working relationship.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “It doesn’t sound like either of us can handle a relationship right now…” My voice cracks with emotion. I like him so much. “So let’s just keep hanging out, keep being friends, keep working together. I’ve really liked getting to know you better, and I don’t want to lose you,” I say in a wobbly tone.

His eyes find mine. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Good. Let’s just go back to where we were, okay?”

I stand and charge toward the manor house, and seconds later Jack bounds up to walk beside me. The three hounds circle us, barking and playing, oblivious.

I slap a fake smile on my face, sniffling. I pull a cherry sucker out of my pocket, rip off the wrapper, and stick it into my mouth, but it doesn’t bring the relief I need so badly.

Hold on Tight

At daybreak on Tuesday, day two of my jockey training, I begin exercising the horses. Now that it’s September and the humidity is fading into fall, my skin isn’t slick with sweat like dew coating the grass, but I’m still hot as hell.

I steer Echoes of Summer out onto the track and click my tongue, urging her into a trot. An exercise rider who works for another horse owner calls out, “Women don’t belong on the racetrack! Go make me breakfast!” The rider smiles goofily and the guys around him start chuckling. I ignore them and ride on by. Assholes.

At the 3/8 pole, Bryant Townsend rides up beside me and gives me a look.

“What?” I say over the sound of hooves slamming the dirt. “You come to tell me girls shouldn’t be jockeys?”

“I came to tell you don’t even think about stealing any more of my business. Yeah, Star hasn’t won yet, but now I won’t get any money off him.”

I look straight ahead, continuing to trot. What Bryant says makes me feel somewhat guilty—jockeys only make money when the horses they ride win, and when Jack asked me to become Star’s jockey, that meant Bryant would lose business if Star were to win.

“I need this chance,” I tell Bryant.

“Just don’t agree to race any other horses. I have a car payment and bills to deal with.” Bryant speeds up, leaving me to think about how lucky I am to have a place to live.

After I finish exercising Echoes of Summer, second up on my schedule is Star. Sweat drips down my face as we trot around the track, warming up.

Three other exercise riders are right beside me when a baby raccoon appears on the top of a fence post. A colt screams and jerks his head. Then two of the fillies do the same thing. Which of course means that Star goes ballistic at forty miles per hour.

I hold on tight as Star rears onto his hind legs. Oh shit. “Star,” I say in a soothing voice. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” But I’m terrified. Star returns to all fours, sidesteps, and jerks his head again, whinnying, and I kick his sides and try to urge him forward, but he won’t budge.

The next time he jerks, he uses such force I can’t hold on. He pitches me sideways off his back. I free my feet and leap, making an emergency exit. Avoid Star’s hooves. Attempt a shoulder roll. Land on the track, right on my butt, kicking up dust. Star takes off, the stirrups banging against his sides. The wailing alarm sounds. Other horses dash past me. I’m sitting on the interstate without a car. Outriders begin to chase after Star as I bring myself to a sitting position, and right then a speeding colt clips my shin with his hoof and I scream in pain.

I fall to the dirt, clutching my leg.

“No, no, no!” Jack sprints up to me and slides onto the track like a baseball player into second base. “Are you okay?”

I don’t respond. I hold a gloved hand out toward him. It’s shaking.

Jack squeezes my hand and shuts his eyes, panting. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he says under his breath. Is he talking to me or to the horse gods?

“Go get Star,” I mutter, clutching my leg.

“No,” Jack says.

Dad and Gael follow behind Jack, and seeing the horrified look on Dad’s face makes my eyes water. It’s been a long time since I’ve fallen off a horse. My leg feels like I got wacked with a crowbar. Damn.

It takes a few minutes for my heart to stop racing and my body to stop shaking, but I think my leg and butt are okay.

Mr. Goodwin jogs up. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“I’m fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “I just had the wind knocked out of me.” There is no way I’m giving up my chance to race this Saturday! “What you need is a damned raccoon exterminator already!” I tell Mr. Goodwin, making him and Jack chuckle.

“I’ll get right on that,” Jack says.

“Maybe you should go to the doctor,” Dad says, but I shake my head.

“I didn’t hit my head or anything, and nothing hurts except for my leg and my butt,” I whisper, embarrassed. Horsemen around the track are staring at me. People fall off horses all the time—Dad is just being a drama queen. I don’t want him to have to pay for an emergency room visit just because my butt is sore. I’d know if I broke something. My leg is gonna have a nasty bruise tomorrow, that’s for sure.

“We need to get you off the track,” Mr. Goodwin says, looking over at the gates. “We’ve got about twenty riders waiting.”

Cedar Hill is a business, after all. I lurch to my feet, and Dad tells everyone that he’s keeping me home from school to make sure I don’t have a head injury.

“Dad, don’t. That’ll make me look like a complete pansy.”

“You’re staying home.”

“If she’s staying home from school, I’ll bring over some film for her to watch,” Gael says, winking at me. He knows Dad is overreacting.