Crown Prince by Linda Snow McLoon Page A

a quiet ride for a young girl.”
    â€œFrom what you’ve told us, I would agree,” Jack said. “The chestnut horse, Code of Honor, looks to be our best choice, so let’s get back to him. Does that sound like a plan to you, Sarah?”
    Sarah nodded, although she couldn’t help being curious about Crown Prince. Where was he? What did he look like? She wished she could see him.
    â€œOkay,” answered Rudy. “I understand you have a letter from Chandler DeWitt I need to sign, and I have a folder of information on Cody to give you, medical records and such. I’ll also write up what we’ve been feeding him, so you can gradually change him over to whatever your farm uses for grain and hay. Let’s go to my office to take care of the paperwork.”

CHAPTER 7
The Choice
    SARAH WISHED SHE COULD go back to Cody’s stall, but she grudgingly followed the men down the shed row to the trainer’s office. She really didn’t want to be cooped up inside “doing business” when there were so many beautiful horses here to see.
    Rudy opened the door and gestured for them to enter. For someone who had been a longtime leading trainer at Raceland Park, his office was surprisingly “no-frills.” The room was sparsely furnished with a desk and an older computer. A few straight-backed chairs sat beside two metal file cabinets, and the only other piece of furniture was a drop-leaf table near the door, where a bulging scrapbook was displayed. Except for a large chart mapping out the training program for each horse in his string, the paneled walls were bare.
    Rudy began looking for Code of Honor’s file in one of the cabinets. One Thoroughbred racehorse could accumulate a lot of paperwork, with a record kept of every shoeing, every visit from the vet, and a lifetime of training schedules. The successful horses’ files also included listings of their racing wins, any newspaper clippings, and printouts from websites and racing blogs.
    â€œHis Jockey Club registration papers are over in the Racing Secretary’s office, and I’ll forward them to you once he’s passed the vet exam. They verify his age, breeding, and ownership history. Unfortunately, you won’t find anything in the races won column.”
    Jack opened the scrapbook on the table to a newspaper article, faded and yellowed over time, with the headline, “Best Beau First in Raceland Handicap.” The scrapbook was filled with other clippings and magazine articles about some of the notable horses Rudy had trained and the important races they’d won. Sarah’s father joined Jack, and soon the two men had tempted Rudy to regale them with the highlights of his impressive career and the horses he’d trained. Rudy seemed to have story after story to tell.
    They don’t need me here,
Sarah thought. She wanted to get back to the horses. Quietly she slipped out the door and went to Code of Honor’s stall, where the chestnut gelding was still eating hay from his net. Sarah brought out her last carrot, and as before, let the horse have small bites. She stroked his face as he chomped on the carrot. When it was gone, he strained over his stall’s webbing to nudge her with his nose, asking for more. “Sorry, Cody, that’s it,” Sarah said, showing him empty palms.
    A groom walked by carrying a bale of golden straw that he plunked down by the next stall. He paused to look at Code of Honor and Sarah. “Cody’s a nice horse,” he said. “I’ve been his groom all year, and he’s been a peach. I’ve never had to watch my back with that one. You’re going to like him a lot.”
    â€œWill you miss him?” Sarah asked.
    The man shrugged. “Horses come and go. I rub four horses and that keeps me too busy to notice, really. I hear there’s a nice two-year-old coming from the farm to take the first open stall. Maybe he’ll be the