Zach told himself that was because of the breakneck speeds he’d reached trying to get her to work on time. They’d made it but only just barely, Zach having to content himself with a quick kiss goodbye. The rest of the day passed in a blur. One of the few horses he had in training, Cash Only Special, was in a race this weekend and he’d come up a little sore the other day. He’d almost told Mariah about it, had been tempted to let her examine the bay gelding he’d nicknamed Cash, but the last thing he wanted was a lecture on how pushing a young horse was bad. Still, he felt like a cheating husband when he spotted Doc Miller walking toward him. “Zach,” the gray-haired man said, eyeing the horse tied up outside its stall. The black polo shirt with Miller Equine printed across the left breast couldn’t be comfortable. Once the coastal fog had burned off, it’d turned into a blazing-hot day. “What seems to be the problem?” He’d tell Mariah it’d been the owner’s decision to call Doc Miller, that was what he’d do.
