At 8 o’clock, the bell on the porch of the main house rang loudly enough to be heard throughout the ranch, and a deep, bellowing voice sounded out in the courtyard. “Race meeting now in the courtyard! Race meeting now in the courtyard!”
All the riders and trainers were already in attendance, but this call brought everyone else on the ranch running, anxious to hear the announcement.
Victor Vargas placed a wooden box in the courtyard and stood on it so that the crowd could see him better. “Buen dia and good morning to everyone.” He stopped to glance around at the crowd gathered in anticipation of the great race, and smiled. “Thank you, everyone, for coming to this event, and thank you to everyone who has been able to make the long journey and say ‘Happy Birthday!’ to my wonderful padre, Martin.” The crowd clapped and cheered, and turned toward the older, grey-haired man sitting in the chair on the porch.
He stood up slowly, with the help of a couple of people beside him, and, in a slow and soft voice, started to speak. “Gracias to everyone for the nice birthday, and for coming to our race.” He stopped briefly to inhale, and continued. “We have been planning this day for a very long time, and I am glad that I lived to see it.” He smiled generously and waved his hand, and sat back down in his chair.
The crowd, excited at both the prospect of the race and the birthday party, broke into a spontaneous version of “Happy Birthday,” at which Martin and his family laughed and clapped.
After the song, Victor turned on his box to the group of riders, who had gathered in a group near the barn. “Bienvenidos, riders! I know many of you have come great distances to be here.” There was clapping from the crowd and multiple “Bienvenidos!” The riders acknowledged the cheers with waves and nods, and then turned their attention back to Victor, still standing on the wooden box.
“And I would like to repeat to everyone here that the winner of today’s race will win a box of gold coins, and—” He waited to get everyone’s undivided attention. “—The pick of any horse on this ranch!”
A very loud cheer erupted from the crowd at that.
Pilar was fumbling with her jacket sleeve when she heard Victor state what the winner would earn. Thinking back, she realized that she’d been so busy with training and getting to the race that she’d never bothered to ask what she might win. She wanted to cross the finish line first, of course… But she’d never expected the prize to be so big. Startled, she backed away from the group, and accidently stepped on someone else’s boots. She turned, muttered an apology, and then ran for the barn.
She’d barely thrown open the doors when Jorge arrived behind her.
“Pilar, what is wrong?” he gasped, breathing heavily.
She looked up in anguish. “Jorge, why didn’t you tell me what the prize was for first place?”
“Well, we didn’t want to worry you or make you nervous. We—”
But she held up her hand to stop him, horrified. “We? You mean Mama knew about this and she didn’t tell me?”
“Si, she knew. Like I said, we didn’t want to make you nervous.” Jorge stopped and took a deep breath. “Pilar, none of that matters. You are the best rider here. You will get first place. Remember everything we reviewed and talked about for the race? You need to get back out to that meeting and ride that race just like we practiced over and over and over.” He ended the conversation, took Pilar by the shoulders, and turned her to go back outside.
Pilar let him steer her back out into the crowd, knowing that being out there amongst the people would make her move forward. Staying here and worrying about the race—and its big prize—would only make her more nervous.
When they arrived back in the square, Victor was still making with his pre-race announcement. “So remember, riders, the basic rules are that there will be no intentional physical contact between each other, so no whips or sticks or other things can be used against other riders.” The crowd laughed, but Pilar gulped at that. Were people actually going to try to attack her?
“Each rider and horse must run the entire course, and must go around each of the designated markers. There will be judges at these points around the track, to confirm that each rider and horse are following the rules. And—” Victor inhaled one more time. “—The first team that crosses the finish line, WINS! Buena suerte, everyone! Race begins in fifteen minutes, at the starting line.”
The crowd cheered then, and everyone raced to their places, ready for the race to begin.
Pilar turned and walked toward the barn, where she met Jorge at Prince’s stall. He was already checking her gear again, and Prince was tacked up and ready to go. There was nothing left to do now, but get onto the track and start the race. Pilar took a deep breath, then put her foot into Jorge’s waiting hands. He boosted her up onto the horse and she settled easily into the saddle, feeling it cradle her as it always had. The familiar leather and feel of Prince underneath her did a bit to steady her nerves, and she took up the reins, ready to pit her horse against the others in the race.
With a nod of her head, she indicated that she was ready to go to the starting line. Jorge took the reins and walked them down the road to the start of the track, past what seemed like hundreds of people—all of them clapping and cheering. But Pilar couldn’t hear them. She was listening to her own breath, and visualizing what it would be like to gallop down the track. Remembering it over and over again, as she and Jorge had walked it. Remembering the turns, and where the soft and hard spots were.
She needed to focus on all of that if she was going to get through this race safely. And win.
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