Page 98 of The Dravenhearst Brides
“Come on.” Ruth waved her hand and stepped forward. “Let’s race them.”
“Race?” Margot’s voice shook. “I don’t think—”
“Merrick!” Ruth flagged him over.
He brought the horse around in a slow trot. Ruth lined up the two stallions, side by side. She counted down.
When her hand dropped, Merrick’s heels tapped Fox’s side, urging him ahead in a sprint. Omaha remained still, ears pricking. Julian lowered his posture, bending forward. Just before his horse took off, he slid his eyes to Margot, warm with an easy smile.
“Go!” Ruth shouted, smacking the horse’s rear.
And he was off, giving chase.
The hoofbeats were thunderous. Frozen dirt kicked up under horseshoes. Long stride after long stride, muscles of the beasts rippling…
Margot reminded herself to breathe. A tinge of lightheadedness crept in.
“He’s gaining,” Ruth said, smiling.
The words sharpened Margot’s focus, honing her attention and keeping the dizziness at bay.
Theyweregaining, Omaha and Julian.
“Wow,” Margot breathed, watching the horse close distance with every stride.
“We must always run him from behind,” Ruth murmured. “Just like his father.”
“Why?”
“It’s in the blood,” Ruth replied, shaking her head. “Fox was the same when he was young. Inordinately fast, but they lack focus, this bloodline. They’re made to chase, to pursue.”
Merrick doubled down on Fox, urging him ahead, but Julian pushed. Omaha tore up the ground, sneaking into the inside position as they rounded the final bend of the pasture.
“This is where he’ll take him,” Ruth said.
As the horses completed the turn, Omaha pulled ahead. Merrick laughed as he gave chase. The sound tugged at Margot’s gut from all the way across the field.
Fear crept back in as the horses neared. Margot swore the ground shook underfoot with the vigor of their pounding hooves. Julian pulled Omaha up short, slowing him to an ambling gallop, then a trot. He thumped the horse’s neck affectionately. Ruth strode over to meet the pair, rubbing and nuzzling Omaha’s snout, offering praise. Behind the victors, Merrick slid to the ground. He pulled Fox by the reins toward Margot.
Instinctively, she stepped away and shook her head.
No closer.
Merrick stopped. Fox bumped his nose against Merrick’s cheek, snuffling his ear. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sizable sugar cube, offering it to his horse.
The move jarred a memory, the feel of Cerberus’s soft lips against Margot’s palm, nibbling gently at a treat. The velvet brush of his snout hit next, smooth and warm.
Something unexpected rushed in with the memory—love.
It hadn’t all been bad. She’d always known it, but the final, horrific memory so easily eclipsed all those that came before. She bit her lip, wishing…
Wishing, wishing, wishing.She closed her eyes.
A breeze stirred the ends of her hair.
“Margot, we’re flying!”
She almost smiled. Almost.
