Starting Gate Read Online Free Page B

you want to see the stables? There are lots of horses over there. Skye told me that that would be the tour highlight for you.”
    “He knows us well,” Carole replied eagerly.
    They followed Jess across the racetrack and around a huge paddock to an old, elegant stable. The walls were solid mahogany, and all the door hinges were brightly polished brass. Big buckets of golden yellow chrysanthemums stood by each horse’s stall, and the sounds of Mozart floated through the air.
    “Hey, sounds like Ashford track stole your idea.” Stevie nudged Carole gently.
    Jess frowned. “What idea?”
    Carole gave a sheepish grin. “It’s a new theory I read about,” she explained. “If you listen to certain pieces of Mozart, you’ll calm down. Other pieces are supposed to raise your IQ. I figure if it works for people, then it might work for horses, too.”
    Stevie grinned. “So what did you tape for our guys? The smart pieces or the relaxing pieces?”
    “Actually, I taped both,” said Carole.
    “Wonderful.” Lisa laughed. “We should have three calm, brilliant horses by Thursday. I can’t wait to see what they’ll be like.”
    “I just can’t wait to see them, period,” grumbled Stevie.
    They walked down the aisle of the stable, introducingthemselves to the horses. All were magnificent Thoroughbreds with long, slender legs bred for the track. The first one, a red bay stallion named Kublai Khan, stamped his foot when they looked in his stall. Next to him, a calmer gray gelding named Silverado munched on some hay.
    “Hey, look at this one,” Lisa said, pausing at the stall next to Silverado. “She reminds me of Prancer.”
    The girls stopped and peered in the stall. Inside, a white-faced bay mare stood watching them, her tail twitching, her ears flicking in several different directions.
    “She looks a little like Prancer,” admitted Carole. “But she sure doesn’t act much like Prancer.”
    “That’s Mabel,” Jess explained. “She’s one of the stars of the movie.”
    “Mabel?” Stevie wrinkled her nose. “That’s a pretty frumpy name for a Thoroughbred.”
    “You know names don’t matter, Stevie,” Carole reminded her, trying to pat Mabel’s nose. “Neither does color. What matters with horses is heart and character.”
    “And whether or not they like Mozart,” Lisa added with a laugh.
    Someone coughed right behind them. Everyone turned. A tall man in a black sweater and tan breeches stood there frowning at them.
    “Hi, George,” Jess said. “These are Skye’s guestsfrom Virginia. Girls, this is George Gamble, the stable manager for the set.”
    “Hi, Mr. Gamble.” Carole smiled. “You’ve got some great-looking horses here.”
    “You sure do,” Stevie chimed in. “It must be wonderful to work with both horses and movies.”
    “Does Skye get to ride all these horses?” Lisa asked.
    “Not a chance.” Mr. Gamble looked at them coldly, smoothing his small black mustache.
    “Which ones does he ride?” asked Carole. “And what kind of schedule do you put movie horses on? When do they exercise?”
    Mr. Gamble ignored her questions and glanced at his watch.
    “What about Mabel?” Stevie persisted, noticing that the mare had grown more agitated when Mr. Gamble had appeared. “She seems pretty high-strung for the movies.”
    “Mabel has her own training schedule,” Mr. Gamble muttered, again glancing at his watch. He turned to Jess. “These horses are due to be fed and groomed in about five minutes. They’ve got early calls tomorrow. Why don’t you give Skye’s little friends a barn tour some other time?”
    “Sure, George,” Jess said. “I didn’t think—”
    “No, of course you didn’t.” Mr. Gamble turned to the girls. “If you’ll excuse us … Just follow Jesshere out of the stable area.” He pointed his riding crop back toward the racetrack and then strode off in the direction of the feed room.
    “Gosh,” said Stevie, “I guess he didn’t want his stars