Taking Chances: Kayla's Chance

“I really hope they don’t call her ‘A Risk By Chance’,” I said as the bay colt I was exercising tossed his head.
“Well it’s got both her parents’ names in there,” Mik argued from the chestnut he was riding alongside me.
“Yeah but it’s too long. I can hear it now: ‘A Risky By Chance taking the lead on the final turn and flying towards the wire…’” I tried to imitate the track announcer’s voice.
“Since By Chance died they’ll probably relate his name to hers somehow.”
“No necessarily. The By Chance colt that won the Derby’s came is Think Fast.”
“By Chance was still alive when he was born.”
My colt shook his head again as we came off the final turn at an easy canter.
“What’s he doing today?” I asked, nodding to Mik’s colt.
“Gallop a mile. He’s got a mile and a half race next weekend we’re trying to get him ready for. Him?” he questioned about my colt.
“Half a gallop, half a breeze.”
“They timing him?”
“Not today.”
We drifted to the inside rail and crouched low over the colts’ necks. My colt, Flipside, called Flip around the barn, pinned his ears at Mik’s colt, Affair.
“Easy,” I murmured, keeping pace with Mik through the first quarter. At the turn I let out a little rein to pull slightly ahead. I could hear Flip grinding the bit in frustration, wanted to get away from the other colt.
Down the backstretch at the half mile pole. I let him go. The colt’s ears flattened and we left Mik and Affair in a cloud of dust. How I loved my job.

“The name’s longer than she is,” I argued inside Risky’s stall where my father was checking on mother and foal…again.
“But it makes sense. I wanted Risky’s name in there but By Chance is gone so we have to show some respect.”
“The colt that was born two days after By Chance’s death that was sired by him was named Twice a Fool when its dam’s name was Royal Fool.”
“They were disrespectful. A Risk By Chance is the best name I can think of that I wouldn’t mind naming her.”
“What bout Business Chance or Risky Chance?”
He shook his head. “They’re too close to her parent’s names.”
“I thought that was the point,” I muttered.
“Don’t get smart. I don’t like either of those names.”
“Well if you’re so gung-ho about using By Chance’s name, why don’t you just not use Risky’s?”
“Risky was the first horse I’ve owned that did so well on the racetrack.”
“What’s your point?”
“That I want her name represented. I was going to call the foal A Risk Worth Taking but then By Chance died.”
“I can come up with a better name than A Risk By Chance.”
“Oh can you now?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll give you a week to come up with a better name or I’m sending in her papers with her name as A Risk By Chance.”

“I see why I has to have something of By Chance’s name in there, but why Risky’s? I mean I love the horse but this would be so much easier if I was just working with one name.”
“Kayla all you’ve talked about, all day has been that horse,” Mik’s current girlfriend, Becky, said. “You should be mourning for a different reason. This is Mik and I’s last week in the school! You’ll have to live without us!”
“Correction. I’ll be celebrating even though I still have to deal with him at home,” I said, motioning to Mik. What I didn’t say is that I would be celebrating because I didn’t have to deal with her anymore. It had been evident from the beginning that Becky didn’t like my, obviously because of my close relationship with Mik.
“Well I know you’ll miss me. But not to worry. I’ll be over to the-stables almost every day.
“Great,” I said, glad that Becky was oblivious to sarcasm. “But who are you going to see? I’m only staying on the farm until school’s over. Then I’ll be in Baltimore for a few weeks, then New York and to California.”
“Well-no offence by I’m not really coming to see you,” she said, batting her eyelashes at Mik.
“Becky can I talk to you for a moment?” Mik asked.
Oh crap. That was the tone Mik had used to teach me how to break it off with my ex-boyfriend, Damion.
“Well I don’t really want to get up,” she said, glancing lazily around the cafeteria. “Lunch is almost over and everyone else is getting up. I don’t want to get crushed.”
“Um-,” I said awkwardly. “I’ll just-”
“No Kayla,” Becky turned to Mik. “What do you want to tell me?”
Figures. This was not going to pretty. Mik shot me an apologetic glance.
“Well I’m going to be gone-pretty much all summer. Then you’re going to college, and I’m staying here to start managing the stables-“
“So what exactly are you saying?” she demanded.
“Just that we’re not going to be seeing each other a lot for the next few months. Maybe even a few years since you’re going to another state for college…”
“There are horse tracks in California. We can see each other then.”
“The reasons I’ll go to Del Mar and Santa Anita is for the horses though.”
“So you’re saying that horses are more important than me?” she practically screeched, which caught the attention of several other tables.
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that I feel like you deserve more attention than I’m going to be able to give you. Maybe we should-”
“See other people? Is that what you were going to say? This isn’t about not having enough time for me. You want to go out with someone else.” Her eyes turned and locked on me and her finger short out. “You!” She looked back to Mik. “I knew it! You want to go out with the horse girl so you’re dumping me!”
“Becky-”
“Don’t touch me! I knew it from the beginning! You just went out with me to make her jealous!”
By now, half of the cafeteria was looking at us. Another one of Becky’s many faults was her need for attention and a love of drama.
“Now you know-”
“No I don’t know! What I do know is that you’re always talking about those animals and never pay any attention to me. I don’t know why you asked me out in the first place.”
Probably not the nest time to point out that Becky had chased him unmercifully until he agreed to take her out.
“Look Beck I didn’t want-”
“I know! You didn’t want me from the beginning! Well I’ll make it easy for you,” she said, gathering her books. “We’re finished!” she turned on her heel, her nose in the air, and attempted to glide gracefully out of the cafeteria.
I leaned over the table to Mik. “Now what did you see in her again?”

“It wasn’t funny,” Mik said to me as we were driving home.
“Okay, you’re right. It was hilarious.”
“The poor girl-”
“‘The poor girl’? Please Mik. She’s a drama queen. I’m surprised you put up with her for so long.”
“Well I guess she was pretty bad…” he admitted
“Then why did you stay with her for so long? What was it three months? Four?”
“I’m not exactly sure how, but she’s got a tie in the racing world somewhere. From what I’ve heard it’s a powerful one.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I mentioned her name when Dad was looking at those yearlings at Glenwood. I heard two of the grooms talking. One said, “Jeez I hope we don’t have to deal with Becky Treymane again.”.”
“That’s interesting. That was the only reason?”
“There are others but I’d prefer to keep them to myself.”
“Oh isn’t that mysterious.”
“Drop it,” he said lightly.
“Sure. Let’s move on to more pressing subjects. The name for Risky’s foal.”
“Here we go again.”
“I’ve never understood how someone can just slap a name on a horse just because it’s like their parents’. Risky’s name doesn’t really relate to either of hers.”
“Your dad called Risky that because there was a risk that she wouldn’t be a good racer.”
“There’s a risk every horse won’t be a good racer. Still not a lot of thoroughbreds have a name with ‘risk’ in it.”
“True.”
“And if we named every horse after his or her parents, we’d never get new names. Secretariat’s name would have been Bold Royal or Some Ruler.”
“Or Royal Ruler.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t mind Dad’s name if it wasn’t so long.”
“A name doesn’t make a horse. The Dubai winner last year’s name was A Million Dollars Wasted.”
“Stupid name since he was Horse of the Year. And it probably wouldn’t make any sense to pass that name on.”
“But Risky Business and By Chance are perfectly reasonable names.”
“They don’t fit though. Every name my Dad’s thrown around that combine the names he doesn’t like.”
“Well what are they?”
“Business Chance. Risky Chance. I’ve come up with By Business and Risky By. He shot those down too.”
“Think outside the box.”
“Great advice,” I said sarcastically as his green truck rolled to a stop outside the foaling barn.
I got out and with a wave to Mik, entered the barn. Most of the other mares had already dropped their foals, so three of the four stalls were empty.
I opened Risky’s stall to find the mare munching hay and the filly lying at her mother’s feet. Risky glanced in my direction and, recognizing me, turned back to her hay. The stall made a slight noise as it shut and the filly sat up and, seeing me, stood.
“Quick aren’t you?” I said softly. The filly’s silver ears flicked. Most other foals would be cowering behind their mothers. Not Risky’s. The filly continued to look at me for a moment before she took a bold step forward. Risky turned her head to watch her foal walk up to me and, after making sure I wasn’t going to eat or steal her filly, went back to her munching.
“If anything I’d call you Bold Silver or Quick Silver,” I said, tracing the stripe on her beautiful face.
She was a well-confirmed filly all around. Intelligent brown eyes set wide apart, a dished face with delicate nostrils. Her body was perfectly proportional. If she would have been a colt she could have brought in millions at a sale. But I was glad she wasn’t.
She lipped my fingers when they reached her muzzle, ears pricked towards me, her eyes curious.
“You’re going to be a real winner aren’t you Silver?”
The filly’s ears twitched at my voice. She bit a little harder at my fingers. Thankfully she didn’t have any teeth or I would have lost one or two.
I moved to the wall and slid down it, and the filly came over to investigate, sniffing at my shirt and lipping my hair.
“Mischievous like you’re Mama,” I scolded, gently removing my brown tresses from her lips.
While she continued sniffing me, I tried to work Silver into her name. The best I could come up with was Silver Business Chance and that, like my father’s idea, was too long.
“Well I’ve got a week to come up with something.”

A week goes by very quickly under those circumstances. Before I knew it, it was the day before my father’s naming deadline. And I still had nothing.
I was waiting for my next ride when a black car pulled up to the track. The man who got out of the driver’s side was wearing a suit, as was his passenger. The passenger carried a briefcase.
Except for the horses still on the track, activity slowed to the bare minimum. My father approached them.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” he asked pleasantly, if a little wearily.
“We’re looking for Rich McLochland,” the one with the briefcase said, a hint of Boston in his voice.
“You’ve found him.”
“Mr. McLochland it’s a pleasure to meet you,” they shook hands. “This is my client Alan Rosery,” he motioned to his companion. “Mr. Rosery-”
“Oh Phil you’re so formal. Just call me Al,” Mr. Rosery said, taking my father’s hand and pumping it enthusiastically.
Alan Rosery of Rosery Acers aw the first thing that came to my mind. And with that, the name Off the Radar. The big colt had dominated on the track, setting nearly a dozen records before his retirement the year before. He’d been the most in-demand stallion last year with his first foals expected this spring.
“Al it’s a pleasure to meet you. You have magnificent horses. Call me Rich.”
“And I imagine you are. Risky Business is one of the most impressive fillies I’ve ever seen on the track.”
I caught two things from that: the most impressive “filly” not horse, and “on the track”, not ever.
“Thank you,” my father said.
“I was disappointed when you didn’t choose Off the Radar for her first foal. But now I guess you’re glad eh?”
“Very much.”
“Heard she dropped a filly. A shame it wasn’t a colt.”
Unconsciously, I took a step forward. Mik grabbed my arm.
“I thought the same thing about Risky when she was born and I was pleasantly surprised.”
“Yes. Well we had Off the Radar’s first colt born a week before your filly. Radioactive and he’s already showing promise.”
“Congratulations.”
“Yes. But now, even though it’s a filly, the fact that it’s the descendant of By Chance makes that filly of your extremely rare and valuable.”
I took another step. Mik increased the pressure on my arm. I knew what he was going to ask next.
“Four hundred.”
I blanched. Four hundred thousand dollars. It was unheard of for a filly-especially an untried filly, to go for that much not matter what her bloodlines.
“That’s a-very generous offer,” my father said slowly.
“I don’t like to beat around the bush with something that I want. And I want that filly.”
“I’ll-I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“Well I’ve got time. The filly can’t go anywhere for a few months anyway and I doubt you’ll get a better offer. And if you do, I’ll double it. Oh, and if you’re thinking about covering that mare again this year, Off the Radar’s stud fees have gone up some because he’s producing such well-confirmed foals, and mainly colts.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” my father said as Mr. Rosery handed him a card.
“You do that. I’ll be seeing you.”
The second the car was out of sight, I pulled free of Mik’s hold. “You’re not thinking about selling her are you?” I demanded.
It took him longer that it should have to answer. “I have to think about it. Four hundred thousand isn’t something to turn my nose up at. Especially for a filly.”
My jaw dropped. I sputtered for a moment, then turned to Mik. “Tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“That he shouldn’t sell her.”
“Well-it’s a good offer Kay. If she were a colt and went to the Keenland Yearling Auction, you’d be lucky to get three hundred.”
“You can’t be serious! She’s not even old enough to be weaned!”
“Sometimes it’s best to sell them young,” my father said absently.
“You haven’t gotten her near a track!”
“Exactly. Bloodlines don’t guarantee a great racehorse. How many Secretariat decedents have been found at auction houses these past few years?” Mik pointed out.
“Dad-!”
“I didn’t say I was going to sell her. I said I’d think about it. I think your ride’s here,” he said, motioning behind me where Jamie was waiting with a chestnut colt.
Resigned, I turned to mount up.

“Well you have to admit it’s a good price.”
I jerked my head up, mouth full of cafeteria spaghetti. “Not you too,” I managed to get out around it.
My best friend, Britt, barely looked up from her accounting book. “Especially in today’s economy. I’m not that up-to-date on racehorse stocks and sales, but four hundred thousand isn’t just a chunk of change.”
“If By Chance was still alive, no one would offer that much for her.”
“And think about it Kay, your father is running a business.”
“Risky will have other foals. And I know we’re not hurting for money.”
“Four hundred thousand could buy him a nice colt.”
“What a sexist remark. He’s already got a nice filly. By the time Risky retired, she’d won almost four million in purses and was worth almost three times that.”
“Well at least this gets you off the naming kick.”
My brain went blank for a moment. “Oh I forgot all about that.”
“So I take it no ideas on that front.”
“None whatsoever. I wish we could just call her Silver Chance and be done with it.”
“Have you presented that idea?”
“Have I what?”
“Have you suggested that to your dad?”
“No.”
She looked up for the first time and pinned me with her slate gray eyes. “If you don’t, how will you ever plant that idea in his head?”
“It doesn’t have Risky’s name in it.”
“So? Will it kill you to try?”

“Dad?” I asked, popping my head into his office.
He glanced up from his computer screen. “Come in Kay. I want you to look at something.”
Reluctantly, I entered and looked over his shoulder.
“What do you think?” he asked, gesturing towards the screen.
Next to a column of information, stood a black horse. He didn’t have a thoroughbred build but had to have been bred to run. His legs were thicker, his back muscular. Even stranding still, the gleam of his black coat shone and the muscles all over him seemed to ripple.
“Beautiful.”
“That’s what I thought. Meet Centerfold.”
“Who is he?”
“Son of Center of Attention.”
“The horse that beat Risky in the Derby.”
“Yep. Out of Lucky Fold.”
“Best older mare-four or five years ago?”
“Very good.”
“Why am I looking at him Dad?”
“I’m thinking of buying him.”
I gaped. “He’s got to be expensive.”
“Not overly. Just over fifteen and that’s just because of his pedigree.
“Where-?” I paused. “Oh no Dad not Silver!”
“Who?”
“Risky’s filly. You can’t sell her Dad! It’s Risky’s first foal!”
“I’ve been considering Mr. Rosery’s offer. I’m not going to get a better one of an untried filly.”
If she runs a fraction as well as Risky did you’ll get millions!”
“What about upkeep? Feed, vet, farrier, entry fees…”
“And what’s that colt going to cost to upkeep? He’ll eat more, he’ll probably have bier feet so he’ll need bigger shoes, he’ll need a larger amount of wormer, a bigger shot for vaccines. And do you know if he can even run?”
He turned back to the web page and scrolled down to a video. The still was of a staring gate and three horses walking towards it. As he started it, the horses went into motion. There were two bays and the black colt. Both bays pranced with their handlers to the gate. One pulled on the jockey’s reins to the point of nearly unseating the rider. The other kicked out with a hind leg.
The big black colt, however, walked calmly. He loaded into the first slot easily while the other handlers struggled to load toe other colts.
At the bottom of the shot, the caption read, “Mock Race. Georgia Sunrise-2-year-old bay colt w/star. Centerfold-2-year-old black colt w/blaze & two front socks. Rhapsody-2-year-old solid bay colt.”
The bucking colt, Georgia Sunrise, loaded next to Centerfold. Then, with a little more trouble, Rhapsody was shoved in.
The bell rang a few seconds later, and the colts broke simultaneously. Rhapsody flew to the lead with Georgia Sunrise on his flank. Centerfold ran steadily a few lengths behind them. As I watched, I saw the black colt wasn’t pulling or even resisting. He had an even, ground-covering stride which appeared to be the only thing that helped him stay within four lengths of his competition.
“Kind of slow isn’t he?” I asked.
“Just wait,” my father assured.
I watched the three colts tear around the track, Centerfold steadily falling back to six lengths behind the leader.
“I’m not seeing much Dad.”
As the words came out of my mouth, Centerfold’s ears tilted forward. He picked his head up slightly, seeming to judge the distance to the other colts. Then his ears swept back, he threw his mouth against the bit, and jolted forward. The jockey was thrown back slightly by the impact, then flashed the whip by the colt’s eye once before giving him more head.
With the freedom, Centerfold charged around the final turn, bearing down on the bays like a freight train, then passing them as if they were standing still. As soon as he passed them, his ears pricked and he drew away to a two-length lead before they crossed the line and the jockey stood to slow the horse.
Centerfold slowed to a canter so fast that the jockey was jilted again. The video stopped with Centerfold pricking his ears towards the camera.
My father turned to me. “Well?”
“He conserves his energy until he needs it,” was the first thing that came to mind and out of my mouth. “He’s a show off; he looks right at the camera when he knows it’s on him.”
“From what I hear he’s really even-tempered. They’ve run him with fillies and he doesn’t get distracted. He loves crowds and cameras.”
“The horse everyone wants. Why are they selling him?”
“He doesn’t work well.”
“What?”
“He won’t run alone. That mock race was the biggest shock of the owner’s life. Alone, it’s like he’s out for a leisure ride. No drive, times were horrible until they put him in this mock race.”
“What about his times after this?”
“Unimpressive.”
“How do you know what he’ll do in a race?”
“I don’t.”
I sent him a glare that he didn’t see. Then remembered my reason for coming to talk to him in the first place. “Silver Chance.”
He glanced at me. “What are you talking about?”
“Risky’s foal. We’re going to call her Silver Chance.”
“That doesn’t have Risky’s-”
“Risky will have a dozen other foals that we can name after her. But this is one of By Chance’s last foals. I can understand his name having to get in there. So we’re going to call her Silver Chance and you’re not going to sell her.”
“Now wait a sec here Kay. She’s my filly. What if I didn’t like that name?”
“Tough. Silver Chance is a perfectly good name and it puts her sire’s in there. And it’s not too long.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve young lady. And you’re lucky I like that name.”
“No you’re-wait you like it?”
“It is shorter than A Risk By Chance. We’ll call her Silver. But that doesn’t guarantee I won’t sell her.”
“If you wanted Centerfold that much, you could afford to buy him with Risky’s winnings.”
“Risky is still costing me money. Boarding fees, the covering fee-that’s another payment now because she dropped a healthy foal, vet fess for the foaling, the insurance payments-”
“Dad she won close to four million in purses.”
“Some of that is your college fund.”
“I don’t need four million dollars for college. And taking on another horse just doubled those costs.”
“My point is, Risky won’t be making me any money for the next few years unless I sell her foals.”
“But I could think you want to race Risky’s foals.”
“There’s no guarantee-”
“There’s not guarantee Centerfold will be worth anything either. That’s probably what Seattle Slew’s owners thought. They said: “You know, there’s a chance that this colt won’t be worth anything on the track, so let’s sell him.” Bet they felt pretty stupid.”
“Or I could be the guy buying Seattle Slew.”
“Or the one selling him.”
“I’ve got time to think about it. Back to Centerfold, I’m leaving Tommy in charge tomorrow to go see him work. I told them I’d bring my own rider. Interested?”
I looked grudgingly back at the screen. “Maybe.”