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

kicked off the track . Julie’s relief was tempered with dismay. Otto gave her the creeps, but he was also one of the few trainers she jockeyed for. His mare was scheduled to race that evening, and if he was kicked out now, the mare wouldn’t be allowed to run. What bad timing.
    “Excuse me, sir.” Kurt’s calm voice sounded from behind the rail. “I’d like to check my horse before he goes back in the gate. He might have cut himself when he stumbled.”
    The starter turned his attention to Kurt. “Make it quick,” he said, still edgy after the incident.
    Otto seemed to regain control. He shot Joe a dark glower, shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked away.
    Julie pulled her gaze from Joe and Otto. Ace seemed to be fine, but it was fortunate Kurt’s request had distracted the starter and given Otto a chance to cool down. She leaned over Ace’s shoulder as Kurt approached. “We had a sloppy break,” she said, scanning his face for signs of displeasure. “I’m sorry. The next one will be better.”
    “Not your fault. You did a good job keeping him on his feet.” He crouched down and ran a hand over Ace’s legs.
    “Ace won’t be so tight next time,” she said, forestalling any lecture. “There was a lot of excitement. I'm glad Otto's okay. Thought he’d finally be banned.”
    “Not banned yet.” Kurt rose, his hooded gaze following Otto, and she blew out a relieved sigh as it truly seemed he wasn’t obsessing about the break. Chandler would have lectured endlessly.
    She followed Kurt’s gaze, watching as Otto trudged along the walkway. A hoof print marked the back of his shirt, but he walked evenly and showed no other sign he'd just been trampled by a horse.
    “He's tough as an oak tree,” Kurt said, so quietly it seemed he was talking to himself.
    “Come on. Let’s get those horses in.” The starter gestured impatiently at Julie. “You first.”
    “Keep his head up,” Kurt said softly. “You did fine.” He wiped some dirt off Ace’s muzzle then squeezed her boot. Turned and stepped back over the rail.
    She tightened her lips, listening as the trainer of Joe’s horse shouted loud instructions about using the whip to make the colt listen. She was glad she was riding for Kurt.
    “I want your horses coming out together or we’ll be doing this another day. We’re already pushing regs,” the starter warned as a handler grabbed Ace and led him into the gate. The two other runners entered the slots. Julie grabbed a chunk of mane, steadied her breathing and waited.
    The gate rattled. Someone cursed. But she stared through Ace’s flattened ears, determined not to let her distractions filter down to Ace. Her mother had been a big fan of visualization, and Julie pictured Ace coming out straight and fast.
    Crack! The doors opened and the three horses broke as one—running hard, running straight.
    Two straining heads bobbed on her right, and whoops and whistles cut the air. She was vaguely conscious of her own yells as she urged Ace down the lane. He galloped strongly, even passing the other two horses. She rose in the stirrups, pumped with excitement as she eased him up before the turn.
    Gate work was an important step in a young horse’s career. Races could be won or lost at the start, and fear of the gate often launched many bad habits. She stroked his neck, absorbing the new bounce in his trot. The two horses beside her also seemed more confident as they headed back to their waiting trainers. Even the chestnut pranced, strutting now that he’d overcome the scary gate.
    Kurt snagged Ace's reins and led him through the gap, where Julie dismounted.
    “Good job,” he said, nodding with approval. “Starter said he’s ready to race.”
    “Ace is a nice horse,” she said. Her voice bubbled with adrenaline. “He gallops straight, businesslike. And the bit worked perfectly too. I've never seen a snaffle so low.”
    “Me neither,” Kurt said. “Surprised it worked.”
    She jerked back,