A Date for the Derby - Heidi McLaughlin Page 0,2

nightstand, nothing else. “It’s yours if you want it.”

I smile and pat him on the shoulder. “I want it very much. Thanks, Elijah.”

He nods and leaves me to set up my room. The room has one outlet which I plug my charger into, along with my portable fan. I lay my sleeping bag out on the cot, throw my pillow toward the head of the bed, and pull the book I’ve been reading out of my bag and set it on the nightstand.

After I head back to my truck to get the rest of Maximus’s stuff, I’m in his stall and running a brush over his mane. Each morning, he’ll go out with his exercise rider until it’s time for his jockey, Kendrick Murphy, to take over and work with him. Kendrick is a descendent of Isaac Murphy, who is widely known as the crown prince among African American riders. He won the Derby three times before passing away five years after his last victory. It was my choice to hire Kendrick as Maximus’s rider. Once I saw them together, the grace in which Kendrick rode the colt, everything fell into place. I know history will be made with the first black rider in over a hundred years, but that’s not why Kendrick is here. He’s here because he’s the best.

While Maximus eats, I make sure to fix his stall up for him. Fresh hay, which I brought from his ranch, his turnout sheet in case the air conditioner becomes too much for him, and a stack of treats, which he’ll greedily take from me whether I think he’s earned them or not. I step out of his stall and watch him for a minute. In a few short months, he won’t be mine anymore, and I’ll move onto another horse, one ready to start their competition journey. I’ll take my next couple of horses to competitions to see how they fare. I always do my best to train the next winner.

After the Derby, Maximus, Kendrick, and I will head to Baltimore and prepare for the Preakness, hopefully as the Derby winner. And, if not the winner, a contender, to make sure no one else wins the Triple Crown this year.

Back in the room, I change into a pair of sleep shorts, turn the fan on, and lay on my bed. Daylight will come in just a few hours, which means more training. It also means the start of the Kentucky Derby Festival, and I already have a list of events to attend. None of which I want to be at because running into my parents and the Armstrong’s is not how I want to spend my time. Unfortunately, events are necessary, especially for trainers. If Maximus wins, I’ll be sought after. Owners will come to me with their colts and geldings, paying me to train them. I need to be on top of my social game, no matter how much it pains me.

I reach for my book and flip to my dog-eared page. The novel is about the filly, Winning Colors. She won the Derby in 1988. One of three female horses to ever win. This book was a gift from Brielle Armstrong, daughter of Butch, and the one woman I thought I would marry. I’m not sure why I kept the book or continue to read about the gambling ring and Mexican cartel surrounding Winning Colors, but I do. I read a chapter before getting up and turning off the light. It’s hot, and there isn’t a need for a blanket, so I lay there, in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the horses below me.

Everything will be different when I wake. The stable will busy with trainers arriving, and Brielle is sure to be there, with some sort of media in tow. She is, by all accounts, royalty around here.

2

Brielle

I don’t know why I’m nervous, but I am. For the next couple of weeks, it’ll be endless parties, nonstop smiles, beautiful hats and gowns, and cameras flashing all around. It’s something I’ve been accustomed to my entire life. My father built his famous empire by winning. Our horses have always been the best. When I was younger, I used to revel in the attention. Now that I’m older, it’s not the same. There are times when I wish things were different.

Tonight, my family is hosting the first ever Armstrong gala. We’ve been a part of the derby events for years, but this time, my father wanted