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EquiStressAiden set the hoof of HorrorHound back onto the floor of the wash stall. He clipped the lead rope onto the horse’s halter and led him back home.
“Hey!” a voice boomed behind him.
Aiden jumped, but relief washed over him as he turned around and saw that it was just Antony Juarez, HorrorHound’s jockey.
“How does he look to you today? He looks pretty sound from here,” Antony said.
“Dunno,” Aiden shrugged. “Seems to be better, but I’m just a groom.”
“Whatever, Aiden. You know about that horse as if you were inside his head.”
Footsteps followed Antony, and Aiden squinted at the light in the barn’s entryway, trying to see who it was.
“Hey, Antony,” the owner of the footsteps said. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Antony glanced at his watch. “Oh, shit,” he said and he dashed off to the jockey’s room to change his silks.
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