The jockey, Nino Nella, got a fractured collarbone out of it.”

“You sure got yourself a filly,” Alec said grimly.

Henry turned to him, and Alec noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. Yet when he spoke his tone was sharp, even a little defiant. “Do you think, Alec, that I could have got this filly for a thousand dollars otherwise? No, sir. No one else at the sale wanted to take the time with her. They all got too many horses to go to all the bother of makin’ over a spoiled one. But I got the time. And I know something else. She’s got the blood and the body and the spirit to make a classic horse.” He paused, smiling now. “Do I look as though I’m taking a real deep plunge having such high hopes for this filly?”

Alec’s face lightened too. “You look as if you think you are,” he said. “You look as though you find it more exciting than comfortable.”

“Maybe so,” Henry said, turning back to his filly. “But this little girl and I are going out to win the Derby. We’re going to …”

“You’re going to what?” Alec couldn’t keep the astonishment from his voice.

Henry just repeated, “The Derby, Alec. We’re going out to win the Kentucky Derby.”

When Alec spoke again he had regained full control of his voice. “It’s almost December,” he said calmly, “and in five months, by the first week in May, you’re going to have rid this filly of her bad manners and have her trained and ready to go a mile and a quarter?”

“I’m going to try, Alec,” Henry said.

Alec turned away. “Come on, Henry. Mom has breakfast all ready by this time. You need some good strong coffee.”

But Henry didn’t move from the stall door. “I’ll be there in a little while, Alec. I want to groom her down good when she’s finished eating.”

Alec turned back. Henry wasn’t looking at him; he had eyes only for his black filly.

It was light when Alec left the barn. His brow was puckered, his thinking confused. What Henry planned to do with Black Minx was fantastic, incredible. With her background, faults and lack of training, how could Henry possibly think of her even as a Derby starter? And even if he was miraculously lucky and got her to the post, what possessed him to think she might win? From the running of the first Kentucky Derby in 1875 until now, only one filly had won the great classic, and that was Regret, back in 1915. Fillies just didn’t win the Derby. They just couldn’t beat good colts over that grueling distance of a mile and a quarter so early in the spring of their third year. Countless record-breaking fillies had tried it, only to be licked in that last hard furlong. Yet Henry had said, “We’re going out to win the Kentucky Derby.”

Alec pushed his red hair off his forehead. He hated to think that Henry, after all his years of experience, was letting his emotions carry him away. No, it couldn’t be that, Alec decided.