Finally, she located the cosmetic bag and her cotton swabs.

“We can do this,” she crooned to the horse. “You and me, Millions to Spare. Then nice Dr. Phillips will tell us who your father is.”

She carefully inched her fingers along the horse’s cheek, pulling gently on the bottom lip, stroking the cotton along his gums.

Millions to Spare snorted and pulled his head away.

But Julia had succeeded.

She carefully wrapped the swab then tucked it back in her purse, giving Millions to Spare a final pat. “Good boy.”

Just then, the truck’s diesel engine rumbled to life.

The horses all shifted, shaking the trailer, and pitching Julia into the wall.

Sucking in a breath, she pushed herself back to standing. She ducked under the barrier, coming abreast of the middle Thoroughbred. Intent on the side door, she was determined to jump out before the truck got rolling. As long as no one happened to be looking in the rearview mirror, she’d be free and clear.

But the middle horse shifted again, canting its hip, knocking Julia sideways and pinning her in a groove of the molded metal wall.

An unladylike swearword burst out of her, and she scrambled to regain her footing.

She gave the horse a firm shove.

It didn’t budge.

She shoved harder.

The trailer lurched and rolled forward.

Julia smacked the horse sharply on the rump.

It shook its head, but its hindquarters stayed planted against the center of her chest.

Panic threatened, but she fought it down.

She could breathe. Sure, they were moving now, but they would have to stop soon. There’d be intersections and red lights between here and Cadair Racing. All she had to do was get free and make her way to the side door.

Then she’d wait for an opportunity, hop out and hail a cab.

She groaned, shoving impatiently at the horse’s rump one more time.