A few years ago all Alec truly wanted was to race. Then he’d got the chance, just as Henry had, thanks to the Black. But there should be more between them than what there was. They were still friends but not the way they used to be, and their need for money was the reason for it.

Henry didn’t mean it when he’d said he’d get other riders. Not that he couldn’t, Alec knew. Every jock on the grounds was panting for a chance to ride for Henry, who could do as much for a jockey as he could a horse. He’d told Alec, “You’re gaining experience and maturing as a rider, but you still have a way to go. The great thing is that you’re as good as you are so soon.” And then, when he’d seen Alec’s face fall, he’d fretted and massaged his cheeks with one hand before adding, “Not that I can find fault with you when you ride the Black. That’s different. You’re tattooed on him; you’re one with him. It’s the other horses I’m talking about.”

Alec turned away from the window and went back to his desk. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He was tired, exhausted, as whipped mentally and emotionally as Henry. It was good to be alone, to be able to just put his head down on the desk and close his eyes, to do nothing but think of the girl he loved and what might have been … or what still might be.

There was no sound in the room except Alec’s deep breathing as he tried to relax every race-torn muscle. He had no trouble controlling his body. It was his head that was giving him problems. He needed Pam.

Alec saw her again. Every feature, every detail, was there in his mind. But it was not her golden hair, her long-lashed blue eyes, her high, sharp cheekbones or her ears as small and delicately sculptured as her nose that meant most to him. No, it was none of these that he remembered so well, that made him want to walk beside her forever. It was her will to live and the joy she brought to him and all those she touched. It was her honesty, every emotion showing clearly in her face, with nothing to hide or to prove to anyone, seeing only one person, one thought at a time, talking, describing her life, speaking with all the spontaneity and excitement of a child, “I live! I live!”

A face so different from his own, Alec thought, and from all those he knew. In his everyday, workaday world he wore a mask, and even when startled, surprised, frightened, nothing showed. The mask hid his inner self and he worked efficiently, emotionlessly, from day to day.

Alec raised his head from the desk. He needed to be touched by Pam’s magic again, to feel her sense of sureness, of rightness, her softness yet resilience, her gaiety yet earnestness. All this he needed to survive the pressures he felt engulfing him.

Alec opened a desk drawer and removed a stack of letters he had received from Pam. Taking the last one, he opened the envelope and read:

18, Quai de Béthune
Paris, France
Dec. 12th

Dear Alec,

I can’t wait to see you! It’s been so long! I love you and want to be with you always …

Alec stopped reading and wondered, did that mean she was ready to come back? She’d been working at stables in England and France for almost two months. Maybe she’d had enough. Maybe she’d return with him to Hopeful Farm!

 … I’ve been so happy lately I can hardly stay in my skin.