River Creek Stables: Second Chances

By Jessica K. Gillespie

Upon arriving on her uncle’s racing farm in Kentucky, Natasha immediately feels out of place. Natasha struggles to fit into the demanding lifestyle of a racing farm. Then Natasha discovers Blazing Glory, one of her uncle’s promising racehorses. Blaze is half-wild and unmanageable, but she has the heart of a champion. Natasha undertakes the task of retraining Blaze for the track again. Can Blaze become the champion she was born to be?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781635687781

Book preview

cover.jpg

River Creek Stables

Second Chances

Book 1

River Creek Stables—a place where family ties, horse racing, and dreams flow together as one …

Jessica K. Gillespie

Copyright © 2017 Jessica K. Gillespie

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

New York, NY

First originally published by Page Publishing, Inc. 2017

ISBN 978-1-63568-777-4 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63568-778-1 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Sixteen year-old Natasha Petrakos is forced to leave behind everything she’s ever known and her family to pursue the change of a better life. She’s sent to live with her uncle on his racing farm, River Creek Stables, in Kentucky.

Once there she almost instantly feels out of place amidst the hustle and bustle of the racing world and strictness of her estranged uncle, Dmitri Rankov. So much mystery surrounds her uncle’s past from being back in Russia to his racing career and now the owner of a racing farm—that only her uncle himself knows the answers to. With her uncle’s silence and guarded past, Natasha is convinced that she shall never get to really know the man that lies behind the mask of self-blame and sorrow.

Not long after her arrival, Natasha sets her sights on the most beautiful horse she has ever seen, a fiery red mare, Blazing Glory. Blaze was once a record-breaking filly at the start of her career, a Triple Crown hopeful until a terrible accident ruined her chances and rendered her wild and unmanageable.

Everyone sees Blaze as a lost cause that should be put down on account of her dangerous behavior, but Natasha sees so much more than that. She sees a horse that is misunderstood and is in need of a gentle hand and—a second chance.

Quickly, Natasha realizes her uncle is strongly against allowing Natasha anywhere near Blaze and forbids her from being near the half-wild mare. Natasha decides to pursue her dream of trying to help Blaze reach her second chance, with the help of Jake McCormick, River Creek Stables semiretired trainer.

How long and Natasha keep her secret plans of racing Blaze again from her uncle?

1

As she got on the plane, she knew it was the last time she would probably set foot in Russia and, worst of all, see her parents. Tears welled up in her eyes as the plane flew over the Russia country; Natasha knew this was good-bye, perhaps forever.

Natasha was still nervous when she stepped off the plane, but she was slightly relieved when there was a man waiting for her with a sign that had her name on it.

Hello, young lady, and welcome to America, he greeted her, smiling kindly.

Thank you, Natasha replied, nodding as he picked her bag and box up and showed her to his car.

He explained that he was there to pick her up and drive her to her uncle’s place.

So, is this your first time in America? he asked as they walked toward the door of the airport.

Y-yes, it is, Natasha managed to say even though English was hard for her.

Well, I think you’ll love it here, it is a beautiful place, the driver replied, smiling.

He led the way out of the airport to his car and opened the passenger door for Natasha and went to the backseat and put her things in there.

Off we go, he said cheerfully as he got back into the car and started it up.

After some hours of driving, they then turned off the main road onto a gravel driveway.

They past under an overhead sign that read River Creek Racing Farm. There were rolling hills of lush green pastureland and white fences. In the yard were three red, green-topped barns, an outdoor oval for practice racing, a track, and many back trails. On top of the rise about two hundred yards from the stable yard was a large white farmhouse, with a wraparound open porch and a four-acre front yard. The stable block was bustling with activity; there were stable hands, exercise riders, trainers, and horses working all around the stable yard.

The driver parked in the circle driveway, jumped out, hurried over to the other side of the car, and opened Natasha’s door for her and took her things out of the backseat.

Natasha was amazed at what she saw; this compared to their little shack back in Russia—this was like a castle.

The driver hurried up to the front steps with her things and set them down before returning to the car.

Have a nice day, ma’am, the driver said, tipping his hat to her before jumping back into the car.

Thanks for the ride, Natasha replied, picking up her small carpetbag and little box of belongings.

Before Natasha reached the front steps, the front door of the large house opened, and a very tall broad-shouldered middle-aged man stepped out. He wore a fancy black suit and tie, his black graying hair was nicely combed and his beard was cut slightly longer than chin length, and he wore a grim expression.

Hello, Uncle, it’s me Natasha, your sister’s daughter, Natasha said, introducing herself.

Of course, I know who you are, come in, child, he invited in a strong Russian accent, waving her in.

When she walked through the front door, she was amazed at what she saw.

The floor was made of white-and-black marble, as was the two pillars on either side of the stairs. There were few cushion chairs; and in the dining hall, there was a large oak table and six chairs, and above it was a chandelier of crystals. Her uncle led her up the gray marble staircase to a second floor where there were many rooms and painting of people and racehorses.

He opened the dark brown oaken door on the last room on the left side of the hallway. Inside the room was a four-post bed with fluffy white blankets, a desk and chair, a wardrobe, and a dresser. On the west side of the room was a large window taller than Natasha, with light blue curtains; and on the east wall was a painting of three bay thoroughbreds running free in a pasture and a small bookshelf beside the bed.

This is your room, Dmitri said, setting her box and bag on the bed. When you are settled, you can come to the dining room, and I’ll take you down to see the barns and my horses.

With that, he slightly bowed before he turned around and left the room.

Natasha open the little box she had; inside was a photo of her parents and her older sister, a clay palomino pony, and a piece of coal from a Russian mine. She treasured the piece of coal dearly because it was from a mine that her father still worked in back home. These things she put on her desk that already had pens and paper on the top.

Inside the wardrobe she found dresses of many different colors and two pairs of riding slacks and button-up shirts to match. On the bottom of the wardrobe she found three pairs of dress shoes and a pair of tall riding boots and a pair above-ankle leather boots.

Quickly Natasha put her few clothes in the dresser and dressed in a pair of slacks, a pale blue shirt, and ankle-high boots. She braided her dark red waist-long hair and headed downstairs.

Her uncle was talking to a stable hand in the dining hall when she walked in, but they had their backs turned to her at the time, and they didn’t see her.

But I told you she’s impossible to ride, and someone’s going to get killed trying to tame her, the stable hand said in protest.

I know, but there’s still time, and as I told you all before, I gave her a month and a half to be turned around, and there is still a month left, Dmitri explained.

All right, we’ll do our best, but if someone gets killed trying to train that devil, then it’s all on you, he said through gritted teeth. Turning on his heels and headed out the door, he flashed Natasha a kind smile as he passed.

Natasha hoped she wasn’t butting in on anything important between the stable hand and her uncle.

Ah, my girl, are you ready for your grand tour? Dmitri said, trying to smile.

Yes, I am, Natasha replied, bouncing on her heels.

Right this way, her uncle ushered, motioning to the door.

Natasha could not stop smiling as she walked in front of her uncle through the door.

They walked down the path all the way to the first of the three barns; this barn was the smallest.

Now, this barn is for the retired racehorses, stallions, and riding horses, her uncle explained, leading the way down the aisle, pointing out and naming many of the horses.

This is Copper, and he’ll be your riding horse, and he’s only twelve and still has a lot of fight left in him.

Copper was a chestnut, with a black-and-brown mane and tail; he had four knee-high socks and a small star on his forehead. He was around fifteen hands high, and he was very gentle and friendly. Natasha gave him a quick pat on the nose before following her uncle out of the open barn door to out to the two separate paddocks.

These two boys are the pride of my farm and hard work, he said, pointing to two large stallions. The black one is Stonewall, and the gray is my prize stallion, Lenin’s conqueror, I just call him Len.

The one was jet-black and sleek, and he pranced around his paddock proudly tossing his head. While the taller gray stood in one comer munching on his hay. He was swaybacked, and he had a white mane and tail and long white blaze that ran all the way to his nose.

He took me to many victories, Dmitri said in a dreamy tone. From the jubilee cup to the Woodmen memorial, Kentucky Derby, and the Belmont, and he never let me down, not even once.

What do you do with him now? Natasha asked curiously.

Oh, he’s retired now, even from breeding. I promised him he could live out the rest of his days in this pasture until the day he dies, Dmitri replied, walking toward the second barn.

Natasha was beginning to admire her uncle’s kindness more and more as he continued to show her everything. He showed her many broodmares and their tiny, cute little foals; the mares were contently munching away on grass as the foals galloped and played around the pasture. Then he took her into the last large barn where all of the racehorses were held.

The aisle was bustling with activity; there were horses being groomed, saddled, and unsaddled. Jockeys, trainers, grooms, and exercise riders were talking and hurrying here and there. Every time Dmitri and Natasha walked by anyone, they tipped their hats or waved respectfully. Dmitri showed her several racehorses, but there were only two he was most interested in—a palomino and a dark bay.

This one is called Goldie. He’s a year-and-a-half-old colt that I plan to have raced in the Triple Crown next year, Dmitri explained.

He was seventeen hands, had a white mane and tail, a small star, and two front socks. He lazily hung his head over the stall. He didn’t react when Natasha touched his nose.

On this side this is Blazing Glory or just Blaze. She’s a four-year-old that we’re trying to retrain. Dmitri sighed almost sorrowfully.

She was barely sixteen hands; she was a dark bay, with a long black mane and tail and a star on her forehead. When Natasha got too close, the mare gave a loud squeal, reared up, crashing her hooves against the door. Startled, Natasha jumped back, bumping into a passing stable hand, causing them both to trip and fall to the ground in a heap.

Ah, don’t you watch where you’re going! he snapped, picking himself up and dusted off.

I-I’m sorry, Natasha apologized shyly as her uncle helped her to her feet.

Benjamin, this is my niece, Natasha, Dmitri said, introducing them.

Oh, nice to meet you, he replied, shaking his head in disgust not even looking up at them. The name’s Benjamin Blaine, but everyone calls me Ben.

It is nice to meet you too, Natasha said kindly.

Ben, I am wondering if you wouldn’t mind showing Natasha around the rest of the farm, and show her where to find the take room, feed, and grooming supplies are. I have some important paperwork back in the office that needs to get done, Dmitri suggested.

Ben’s head jerked up, and he was about to say something; but with Natasha standing there, he thought better of it, clamping his mouth shut. He only returned her smile.

Of course, right this way, Ben replied, leading the way down the aisle.

Just be back to the house before six! Dmitri called after them.

I will, Natasha promised, glancing back at her uncle for a moment before hurrying after Ben.

Ben looked to be about two years older than Natasha; body mass was pure muscle, skin tanned from countless hours in the saddle on sunny hot days. His features were chiseled; his flaxen blond hair was combed off to one side, making him quite a handsome young man.

So, you’re related to the great Dmitri? Ben asked, looking over in her.

Yes, on my mother’s side, he left Russia to live here after World War II, but no one really knows why, Natasha explained, blushing afterward.

Is it true that he fought in World War II? Ben asked curiously.

Yes, but Mother said he was never proud of it, and when he came back, he was completely changed, she replied, staring down at her boots.

That probably explains why he’s so quiet and never really talks to anyone, but man he always has that grim rough face, Ben said, shuddering.

I know whatever happened to him really changed him, Natasha sighed as they walked into the large tack room.

2

Ben tacked Copper up for Natasha and an old lead pony for himself, and he took her riding on the back trails.

Have you ever ridden before? Ben asked, noticing how easily Natasha swung into the saddle on her own.

A little back home. A neighbor had a pony I used to ride now and then, Natasha explained.

So, how long have you been here? Ben asked.

I just arrived this morning, Natasha pressed her own heels down, watching how Ben sat.

Wow, where did you come from? he inquired.

I came from Russia, that’s where my parents and sister live, she said.

Why did they send you here? Ben asked, staring at her in surprise.

They wanted me to work under my uncle for the next few years or however long they want me to stay. Father said he wants a better start on life for me.

Oh, I see, must be hard though, I mean to leave your whole family behind, Ben said, glancing over at Natasha.

It is, but I guess it’s life, she sighed. "Father said life here in America would be a little easier than over there.

Ah, do you want to trot? Ben asked, changing the subject.

Sure, I would love to, Natasha agreed, urging Copper into a faster pace.

They trotted all the way back to the paddocks then slowed the horses to a walk as they came into the stable yard to cool them out. After they took the tack off the horses, brushed them down before putting them out in the paddock, Ben had to leave because he had to bring some horses in for the night and do his evening chores.

Natasha wandered around the stable yard until she came over to