Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3) by Bev Pettersen

conferred, opting to load the resisting horse without his rider. They produced a blindfold, confused the animal with a few circles then guided him into the slot. Joe swung over the bars, placed his toes in the irons and an assistant whipped off the blindfold.
    “Not yet!” Joe yelled as the horse jackknifed. The handler straightened the horse and pointed his nose in the vee of the gate.
    Julie caught herself watching and cursed. Concentrate on your own horse . She stared through the grill, trying to re-focus her thoughts. A split second of calm. Then the starter pushed the button, cutting the electric current to the plates that held the doors shut.
    Ace reared as the door cracked open. His feet found the ground but his legs crossed and he stumbled, furrowing the dirt with his nose. Legs tangled, he struggled to keep his balance.
    She was flung onto his neck. Her hands crisscrossed his mane and she tightened her grip, knowing Joe’s horse was behind her. Staying on Ace’s back was the only way to avoid lethal hooves.
    Time suspended as Ace fought to regain his balance. Sounds sharpened—gasps, yells, Otto's gleeful chortle.
    What an ass. Anger gave her strength. She willed Ace to be determined enough, athletic enough, to stay on his feet. He seemed to absorb her message and gave a last desperate lurch then straightened and started running.
    She began breathing again, using his long mane to regain her seat and find a rhythm with his lengthening strides, and they charged down the lane after the galloping filly.
    Ace caught the horse just past the finish line. Julie rose in the stirrups and gradually slowed him to a trot. The filly was on her right but the third horse was missing, and she checked over her shoulder in concern.
    “Joe’s horse is stubborn as a mule,” the filly’s rider said, trotting beside her on the way back to the chute. “Damn horse didn't want to go in. Now he won’t leave. Trainer should have done more work with him.” He shook his head at the blazed chestnut still propped in the gate.
    The young horse had obviously refused to run when the doors opened and still stood rooted in the gate, with Joe vainly trying to urge him out.
    The filly’s rider gestured with his stick. “Look at that nut. He must have a death wish walking by an open gate.”
    Julie stiffened as Otto lumbered in front of the frightened colt, waving his arms and hollering. She could see the whites of the horse's eyes, how his head raised in panic as Otto loomed closer.
    The colt abruptly catapulted from the gate, smashing Otto with his shoulder and driving him into the dirt.
    Julie pulled Ace to a halt, staring in horror. A bird trilled from the infield, its cheery song discordant with a man prone on the ground. A loud fly buzzed around her ear. No one spoke.
    Otto raised his head and her breath escaped in a whoosh. His arm moved, then both legs. He slowly picked himself out of the dirt. A communal sigh of relief was replaced by a groundswell of mutters.
    “Teach him not to stand in front of a loaded gate,” someone said.
    Two men at the rail nodded, followed by more grumbles.
    The starter gestured with his thumb. Julie had never seen the stony official show so much emotion, his expression a mixture of relief and anger.
    “Leave the area now,” he snapped. “I won’t tolerate interference like that!” He turned toward the horses. “Riders! Bring them back in.”
    She couldn’t tell if Otto was disoriented or merely stubborn, but he ignored the starter's command and glared at Joe, who had trotted back on the reluctant chestnut.
    “Man, I’m sorry,” Joe said, his voice squeaky with relief. “No way to avoid you. My horse was scared when you cornered him and busted out on his own. Nothing I could do.”
    Otto’s hands fisted, and Julie’s breath hitched. Surely he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag Joe off his horse, not in front of the officials. Otto stalked closer, his eyes narrowed on Joe.
    He’s going to be