and I’m not asking you to choose. I don’t want you to come to my ranch and train my horses.”
“You want me to come to your ranch and train my horses?” Jesse couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice.
“Exactly.” Mike slapped his hat on his knee again. “And when they win—which we both know they will do—the credit goes to your brand. And mine.”
“Of course. I get one-third of your ranch and you get—”
“The rights to half of your brand. We both know that in three to five years Cherokee Dreaming will be the premier name on the racing circuit. And I have to assume Desiree knows it, too. Yet she hasn’t made you a partner, has barely acknowledged that your stable exists.”
“Mike—”
“I don’t mean any disrespect to your wife, Jesse. God knows I’m not stupid enough to think that’s the way to get you to agree with me. What I’m asking is if you want to be a part of something great. Not just work for a great ranch, but be part owner of one. You’ll have the same freedom with your line that you’ve always had, but you’ll have one hell of a financial backing behind you. You won’t have to stable the line away from the ranch, won’t have to fit in its development in your spare time. It’d be your only focus, your only responsibility and you’d get one-third of the profits brought in to my ranch by any of my horses.”
Mike leaned forward, took a long swallow of his drink. “You’d be a fool to say no.”
Jesse stood, walked slowly to the front window that looked out over the Triple H. This ranch had been his home for the past thirty-three years. Truth be told, Desiree had been his home all these long years. He’d decided weeks ago that he needed to find a new home, when he’d finally figured out that he couldn’t be what Desiree wanted anymore.
He’d made his own plans, had expected to buy an acre or two of land somewhere and train his horses. He’d anticipated staying in Texas because he wanted to be close to his kids. But he’d never imagined an offer like this, had never dreamed of becoming a full partner in a ranch with the stature of Whistling Winds.
How could he have expected a relative stranger to make an offer like this when his own wife had never even considered offering him half as much? He turned, regarding Mike Jacoby through narrowed eyes.
He’d always respected him, had often been impressed with how he ran his ranch. “Still, we both know I’d be a fool to do anything right now.”
Mike smiled as he settled his hat back on his head. “You’re right. It’s a big day for you and Desiree.” He reached for the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket, pulling out a group of folded papers. “Here’s the contract I’ve had drawn up. Look it over, let your lawyer look at it, whatever. Make notes on what you want changed and we’ll negotiate.”
“Look, Mike, I really don’t think this is going to work.”
“Well, I do. So take your time, think it over. A lot of the stuff in there is negotiable.”
Jesse eyed the other man curiously. “What makes you so sure I’m going to go along with this? I am married to one of your biggest competitors, after all.”
Mike stared at him for a long time, all sense of levity gone from him. Finally, just when Jesse thought he wouldn’t answer, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded up newspaper. “This ran a few weeks ago in the Louisville Courier-Journal. It made me think that now might be the time to put my plans into action.” Dropping the newspaper article on the glass coffee table, he tapped a broad index finger on it a few times before rising to leave.
He stopped at the door. “If I’m wrong, then I apologize for bothering you. But the fact that you’ve listened this long makes me think I’m not wrong.” He paused, then with a heavy sigh said, “I’m not screwin’ with you, Jesse. Thirty-three percent of my ranch and the freedom to breed and train your horses any way you want. Give it some thought.”
Jesse watched him slip out the front door, and though he knew that he needed to get going, he picked up the article Jacoby had left. Even knowing that he wouldn’t like what it had to say couldn’t prevent him from skimming the words.
Desiree Hawthorne-Rainwater, sole owner of the Triple H Thoroughbred Ranch, has long been revered in horse-racing circles for her knowledge and dedication to producing some of the best racehorses in the country and perhaps the world. Hawthorne-Rainwater has often attributed her success to her husband and head trainer, Jesse Rainwater, who she claims is “The best Thoroughbred trainer working in the world today.” Yet, despite these claims, Hawthorne-Rainwater has recently, and discreetly, signed trainer Tom Bradford to replace Hawthorne as the Triple H’s head trainer as early as January.
Rainwater has been at the Triple H for thirty-three years, having been hired by horse-racing legend Big John Hawthorne to revolutionize the historic Thoroughbred ranch’s breeding and training programs. During his tenure, Rainwater has never had a year when one of the three-year-olds he’s trained failed to win at least one of the races in the Triple Crown of horseracing—the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness and the Belmont Stakes. Many years, including this past one, his horses have won two of the races.
But a source close to Hawthorne-Rainwater cites her frustration at never having won all three races in one year—and therefore capturing the much-sought-after Triple Crown—as the number-one reason she has chosen to replace her husband after so many years. “Desiree has spent an incredible amount of time, money and effort to make sure she has the best ranch in the business. Her husband’s failure to produce a horse capable of capturing the Triple Crown has become a frustration for her in recent years, one that she is no longer content to sit by and accept as inevitable. She believes Tom Bradford can bring the missing ingredient to the Triple H’s training program and hopefully guarantee the ranch its first Triple Crown winner in over forty years.”
Many in the horseracing community are surprised and unimpressed with Hawthorne-Rainwater’s choice. “Jesse is the best trainer I’ve ever seen,” says Baron Richardson, owner of the Bar L Thoroughbred Ranch of Louisville, Kentucky. “He has a natural affinity for horses that is rare, even in these circles. Tom Bradford is a good man and a great trainer, but he’s not in Rainwater’s class.”
Bradford, who is currently employed by the Bells-and-Whistles Ranch of Atlanta, has produced numerous award-winning racehorses in the course of his career, including Jacy’s Fancy, Hell’s Bells and Whistling Dixie. Whistling Dixie, who has won over thirty races in her career, is best known for winning the Belmont Stakes in 2001.
Rainwater, who has trained such impressive horses as Crown’s Majesty, Crown’s Rhapsody and Royal Jewel, has recently started his own stable of horses—Cherokee Dreaming—a venture that many believe is partially responsible for Hawthorne-Rainwater’s change of heart. The horses of Dreaming Cherokee—trained by Rainwater and his oldest son, Rio—have already made a strong impression in the
American horseracing community.
NOW, HOURS LATER THE agony still nearly brought him to his knees.
How could Desiree have done this to him? To them? How could she have gone behind his back and hired someone to replace him without even giving him a heads-up?
He shook his head. But then again, why was he surprised? Desiree had always run this ranch how she wanted and to hell with what he or anyone else had to say.
His hand clenched involuntarily, crumpling the paper into a ball before he could think better of it. Part of him wanted to keep the article so that he could hurl it at her later when the inevitable confrontation came. But that was a childish desire, one he knew he wouldn’t give in to—no matter how angry she made him.
Besides, what was the use? The damage was done, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive her her duplicity.
With a sigh Jesse tossed the crumpled article at the nearest trash can—one of at least forty Desiree had had placed around the grounds for the upcoming ceremony and reception. Though he wanted