Immersed herself in Italian for a week and refused to speak English in the house. Then scored an A on the exam.
She was scary.
“What three words?”
Gen smiled. “Let it ride.”
Ed looked worried but slowly nodded. “It’s the only thing left to do. The only move left. If this horse wins, it’ll be a sign.”
Wolfe stared. “What sign?”
“A sign I wasn’t meant for my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. If Phoenix wins, it means I’ll rise from the ashes and find a new love.”
Steve groaned. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard, bro. It’s a horse. Not some kind of screwed-up analogy of your love life!”
Wolfe almost lost it, but Gen nodded as if she agreed and believed he was sane. “Ed, I completely agree. But we need to make a statement to the universe. Let’s bet it all.”
Ed clasped her hand as if they were married and had just asked the bank for a mortgage. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
“Are you nuts?” Tom yelled. “People only do that in the movies. We need the money for gas and food and stuff!”
Ed shook his head. “This is bigger than that, man. You’re gonna have to back me on this.”
Wolfe came out of his trance and shook his head. “Hell, no, you’ve both lost it. Names of the horses mean nothing when it comes to winning a race. You’ll only be disappointed and more depressed. Walk away on a high note. I mean it, let’s go.”
She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “I’m sorry you don’t understand, but I need to do this. If I take the risk and believe, something wonderful will happen. It’s time to watch the Phoenix rise from the ashes. Come on, Ed.”
Wolfe watched her walk away with his mouth half-open. What had just happened? When had he lost control of her and this whole nutty day?
Steve cleared his throat. “Damn. We’ll be fronting him all weekend.”
“What the hell does a phoenix have to do with a horse?” Tom asked.
“It’s an analogy of rebirth,” Wolfe said. “The phoenix is destroyed and rises above the ashes.”
“Did Gen break up with someone, too?” Tom asked.
Wolfe didn’t answer. Ah crap, it had nothing to do with losing the money. He was afraid if the horse lost she would spiral back into a deep depression. She was putting way too much into a horse that had no clue it meant more to her than a race. She was looking for forgiveness. Hope.
“Do you guys believe in religion or anything?” he asked.
They both shared a look. “Umm, we went to church when we were younger. We believe in God.”
“Good. Pray hard we win. ’Cause if we don’t, it’s gonna be a disaster.”
GEN CLUTCHED THE TICKET in her hand and trained her gaze on the field of twelve. Number six was dark brown, with a beautiful silky mane and stocking legs. His jockey wore navy blue. When he trotted past her on the way to the gate, she noticed the spring in his step, and thought it was a good sign.
Until he slammed his head against the gate and refused to go in.
Wolfe’s expression made her palms sweat. He looked a bit worried. He never looked like that. She was so used to him being in control of every situation, the idea he could be nervous about her losing a silly race made her wonder why she was making such a big deal of it.
Because.
David didn’t believe in chance, or luck, or God. Once she had. After two years of being with him, she didn’t know anymore. He had consistently showed her how science was a tool, how odds were calculated and coincidence was just a blip on the monitor screen that really meant nothing.
Slowly, she’d begun to lose her sense of magic. Rationally, she realized the six horse was nothing but a target of her current heartache, an attempt to regain a mysterious emotion she believed may have died.
Simply put, she didn’t care.
Gen needed Phoenix Rising to win.
They finally got him loaded into the gate. A few precious seconds ticked by. The doors exploded open and they were off.
The field was a mass of pounding legs clustered together in a tight herd. Phoenix was in the middle of the pack, holding his own but not doing spectacularly. She chewed on her lip while the guys yelled encouragement at the horse and the field rounded the first bend. Dirt flew. Ears pinned, the navy flag streamed in the air, slowly inching forward.
From the back of the pack, the eight horse flew past the mishmash and took the lead. Damn. He was gray. She’d heard about gray horses being lucky.
Phoenix held his own, and as they neared the second turn, the space between them closed. Ten inches. Six. Four. Three.
Ed screamed, “Go, you motherfucker! Go!”
Neck and neck, they neared the finish, the jockeys’ whips nipping their flanks, hooves digging in, eyes fierce with the lure of victory.
They flew over the finish line together.
“Did he win?” Steve screamed. “Did he win?”
“I don’t know! Fuck! I don’t know!” Tom moaned, pacing back and forth. The crowd muttered in excitement, all trained on the board in front, waiting for the results. Ed didn’t speak, just stared at the field.
Heart beating madly, Gen choked for breath, and then a warm, firm grip surrounded her. She looked down, and Wolfe’s fingers clasped hers, as if they had always belonged there.
Wolfe smiled. “He won.”
“How do you know?”
Those beautiful blue eyes darkened with a whisper of something deep. “I just know.”