Page 44 of Blind Trust
Nic urged Buttercup to go faster despite her already rapid pace and labored breathing. Would the horse make it to Lyla before it was too late?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nic raised up a bit, his eyes tracking the narrow creek hidden by shrubs and tall grass. Except the closer he got, he realized it wasn’t as narrow as he’d thought. “No way.”
It had to be five feet wide, and Lyla was heading straight for it at full speed. Nic searched for another way around, but the terrain got steeper in both directions.She’s gonna jump. As if she’d heard his thought, Lyla tucked her elbows in, bringing her chest close to Sir Winston’s back, her body moving in rhythm with her horse’s long strides until—air.
Nic watched as Lyla and her horse seemed suspended over the creek until they landed on the other side with enough grace to make a ballet dancer jealous. He released a breath, annoyed by the awe trying to overtake the frustration of knowing he wouldn’t be able to follow.
At least not fast enough to catch up with her.
Slowing Buttercup into a trot, he led her down the creek bank, through the water, and back up again. “Let’s catch ’em, girl.”
Buttercup started her race again, but she’d never be able to make up the distance. Nic tried to slow his breathing so he could hear over the pounding in his ears. There hadn’t been any more shots. Was it a hunter? Or was it someone lying in wait as Lyla drew closer?
Nic brought his fingers to his mouth and let out a whistle that startled Buttercup, but it worked. Lyla looked over her shoulder at him.
Crack!
Lyla’s horse jerked backward, the momentum catching her off guard. Nic watched in horror as Lyla scrambled for the reins, but it was too late. Sir Winston reared, his front legs coming up and tossing Lyla backward like a rag doll sailing through the air.
Nic raced toward her but was helpless to do anything as her body dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. Not waiting for Buttercup to stop, he swung his leg over and jumped to the ground, his arches aching with the hard drop. He ignored the pain and ran to Lyla, grateful to find her eyes wide open, looking stunned.
“Lyla, are you hurt?”
“I...” she gasped, her wild gaze looking over his face. “Okay. Knocked...my...breath out. Sh...shooter?”
The sound of the gunshots had gone silent. Had it been seconds? Minutes? Time seemed to stall when he watched Lyla fall. “I think it’s stopped for now.” He hoped.
“Winston?”
Nic looked over to where both horses had tucked themselves against some brush. “He’s fine, but you need to stay still. You might’ve broken something.”
“Don’t ...worry,” Lyla said, her chest still rising and falling quickly. “Give me...a minute. Nothing’s broken.”
He was skeptical. “You’re not moving until we get some help out here to check you out.”
“Don’t give me that look, Nicolás, I’m fine. I’ve fallen dozens of times.”
“Are you seriously going to argue with me right now?” Nic looked her over. “I’m going to check you real quick, and then we need to figure out how to get you back.”
“I told you not to worry.” Lyla pulled up the cuff of her jacket to show him a thick black bracelet that looked like a smartwatch. A red light was flashing on the screen. “It’s a tracking device. Sends an alert to Hank if it detects...” She took a breath. “A hard fall. They’ll be here soon.” She tried to get up but winced before resting her head back on the ground. “Maybe I’ll just wait another minute.”
“Until they do, I’m going to check you out.” She raised her eyebrows at him, and he rolled his eyes. “For injury, which means I have to touch you.”
Lyla smiled up at him. “Nicolás.”
She wasn’t going to make this easy. Nic, worried about a concussion, looked at her pupils. He was grateful for the helmet on her head. “How does your head feel? Are you dizzy?”
“I did a somersault in the air, Nicolás. What do you think?”
“Well, the sarcasm didn’t get knocked out of you.” Nic ignored her eye roll and began a quick check, running his hands over her legs and arms, asking if anything hurt. She shook her head with each question. When he was sure there was nothing broken, he looked around. Both horses stood by steadfast, grazing as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.
Only something had.
“What did you think you were doing, Lyla? You don’t run toward the shooter.”
The soft lines of her face hardened. “Says the man who used to run toward bombs.”
Nic exhaled slowly. “We never run toward an explosive. We act swiftly after a careful assessment.”
