7
Gillian laughed as her horse galloped ahead of James’s along a field of wildflowers and wheat-colored grass. A late summer had lingered this year, leaving the field glowing with color and life. The thunder of hooves behind her made her glance over her shoulder. James was grinning astride a black gelding. Their eyes met, and he smacked his riding crop on his horse’s flank. The beast took the command quite seriously, and James was suddenly racing alongside her.
“First one to the road wins!” he shouted.
Gillian leaned low over her own horse, gripping the reins tight, listening to the mare’s steady but labored breaths.
“Come on, you can beat him,” she whispered in the horse’s ear. Then she gave her mare a kick, and the horse picked up its pace. Just enough to pull ahead.
The end of the
