Cat barely glimpsed the pistol before she kicked in her heels, sending the horse toward a break in the trees, desperately hoping to reach the open fields before Edward could fire. She’d made it to the border of the forest when the shot rang out, ricocheting off wood close behind her. Jackson reared, his forelegs pawing the air. Ducking to avoid tree limbs, Cat struggled with the reins as the stallion tossed and pranced, then suddenly broke free of the woods, flying onto the pasturelands, Edward on their heels.
Counting on her cousin’s poor horsemanship to hold him back, Cat struck for the road and the village, where she hoped she would not be murdered in broad daylight. She was thankful for her years of riding and her strong mount as Edward fell behind. Although the village lay some distance ahead, the road came into view, revealing a lone rider whom Cat prayed would deter Edward from his pursuit. She held on for dear life as Jackson, still frothing with fright, raced down the hill. Fighting to keep the horse along the beaten track, she shouted for help.
Either her words reached the horseman or he simply deduced from her flying hair and billowing skirts as she clung to the horse’s neck that her mount was a runaway, for she soon heard the other horse charging along beside her, and she felt Jackson finally slow, his sides heaving.
As the horse was brought to a halt, Cat’s heart, nearly bursting, stopped its painful racing. She opened her mouth to speak, but the world suddenly seemed clouded in gray. With embarrassing certainty, Cat, who viewed swooning females as idiots, knew that she was about to join their ranks. Without even catching a good look at the stranger who had come to her aid, she fainted dead away into his arms.
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