1
GABRIELA
The soles of my leather riding boots shuffled back and forth over the floor, kicking up stable scents and I swore, if they bottled and sold the smell of horse sweat and sawdust, I’d bathe myself in it like French perfume.
My career as a jockey was off to a shaky start. I just wanted to win the Briarville Derby.
Here I was trying to hide my boobs so no one would know I was a girl on the track, and it was harder than leveling Half Dome with a nail file. The chest binder strapped me down tight, and discomfort took the focus off the fluttering butterflies in my stomach while I curried small circles over Native Prancer’s black, shiny coat.
“I’ll hide the boobs, you hide your eyes.” I whispered, stroking his velvet nose, comforting us both. I deliberately placed the blinkers agai
