The copper mare tossed her silky mane and pranced proudly at the
end of the lead rope, the sun making her rounded, plump belly
glisten. No inexperienced onlooker would notice the nervous sweet
that drenched her coat, or the whites showing in her eyes that
signaled discomfort.
"What do you think, Harry?" the groom, Pete Anderson,
who walked her asked the old man with the gray beard who watched
her pass by with his critical blue eyes.
"I think everything's set," the old man replied in a
raspy, crackling voice that only hinted at his age. He gave the
skittish mare a pat on the rump with the gnarled hand of an experienced
yet arthritic horseman. "Bed her down nice for tonight, but
don't keep too close an eye on her. You know how crazy she gets
at times like these, and when it comes to foals she's an old expert.
Yeah, I think she'll be just fine."
THREE YEARS LATER
The copper filly pranced at the end of her lead rope, finely etched
head held high and muscles rippling smoothly beneath her coat.
Terri Winters gazed fondly at the three-year-old Thoroughbred
she had helped to train, groom, and exercise ride along with her
ex-jockey grandfather, Harry Winters. They had named the filly
Copper Rose, for her coat resembled a brand new sparkling penny
and both Harry and his granddaughter knew at the moment of Rose's
birth that she would stand where she stood today... at the Run
for the Roses, one of the greatest days in racing, the Kentucky
Derby.
Twelve-year-old Terri hugged the prancing filly, who had just
clocked a magnificent breeze earlier in the morning that had certainly
turned some heads. "Just wait until they really see you win,"
Terri whispered. Rose snorted in agreement as her jockey and former
groom, Pete Anderson, mounted up. People gasped and murmured with
amazement as Rose, the only real longshot at 30-1 despite her
perfect track record, made the colts in the field look like lead
ponies and danced on her toes with her ears pricked. Only one
colt stood to rival her, and he was her half-brother out of the
same stallion; a big, burly bay of somewhat similar build called
Moonshadow. Her grandfather had sold him at Keeneland long ago.
Since then the colt had clawed his way up among the best, and
now he pranced confidently at the Kentucky Derby walking ring,
preparing to run against Rose. For the first time, Terri's infamous
pre-race jitters came in a startling wave. Luckily, Copper Rose
was taken by a lead pony to go forth in the post-parade before
the filly could pick up on her groom's nervousness.
"Good luck, Rose!" she called after her horse and friend.
"I know you're going to win. I just know it."
Terri barely realized how she got to the grandstand to stand beside
her grandfather; she knew only that in her heart she was down
there with her filly and the jockey as they loaded calmly into
the gate.
Suddenly the gate flew open and the air around the track rang
with the beats of thunderous hooves. Terri's heart sank as she
heard the announcer cry, "It looks like Copper Rose has been
bumped by another horse out of the gate. She's recovered her stride,
but it doesn't look like she's going to catch the pack today.
Rotten luck." Terri lost herself in the announcer's excited
voice. "Moonshadow has the lead and he's not letting go.
Battling for position just behind him are Georgia Storm and Frontrunner.
Then there's Dashboard Dice tucked in just behind in third. They
hold onto their positions! Nobody's moving! They're headed for
the Clubhouse Turn... Wait! What's this?! Copper Rose, the longshot
filly, is ROARING up on the outside! The others might as well
be standing still! She's taken Top Dollar... she's passing Dawn's
Hill... she's flying past Dashboard Dice and the two horses jostling
for second... the filly and Moonshadow are neck-and-neck while
the rest of the field is left behind! But Copper Rose is all burned
out... she's dropping back and leaving the field to Moonshadow.
But wait... The filly's got something left! She's picking up!
She's next to Moonshadow... she's passed him! This filly is running
away! She's ahead by one... no, two... no, three... no, four.
Yes! The longshot filly, Copper Rose, has taken home the Derby
by four lengths!"
Terri leaped from her seat with a shriek of joy and prepared to
head for the winner's circle. That was when the crowd fell silent.
"Wait! Something's gone wrong with Copper Rose!" the
announcer called out. "She's past the finish line, but the
filly's down. This race was too much... she gave everything she
had."
Terri felt as if her heart had stopped beating. How could this
have happened? The rest of the evening was a miserable blur as
the filly was handed over to the vets who would "do everything
they could to save her life", as she was driven home by her
grimly silent uncle, and as she curled up in bed to cry and remember
her Copper Rose. In the middle of the night her grandfather received
a call, and she listened hopefully. Her hopes fell as she heard,
"Yes? Oh... Oh, I see... Thank you."
Terri cried herself to sleep.
In the morning, her grandfather woke her up early. "Come
on. There's something you need to see." Terri was thrilled
to behold the spectacle just outside... A copper chestnut filly
standing tall, only slightly skinnier than before. "She'll
never race again," Harry Winters told her as she wrapped
her arms around the filly's neck. She didn't hear. She was too
busy telling Copper Rose, "I told you that you were going
to win. I just knew it." Rose snorted with agreement.
