Page 43 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

Thunderbolt sidesteps, jostling me, his left ear doing a twitching thing.

Fear courses through me. “Please ... please don’t kill me,” I whisper.

In my peripheral vision, I see Zane heading toward me, his horse taking a leisurely pace. I don’t want to have this conversation right now. The one where he reminds me that if I would have just said something, I could have both feet on the ground and not perched atop Goliath, and I wouldn’t be about to soil myself.

Oh, please, don’t letthathappen.

I try once again to press my leg into his side and pray it works this time. I need to get this horse moving so Zane doesn’t have a chance to lecture me again. If I can get the horse to at least walk, it might look like I’ve pulled it together.

“Get,” I say to Thunderbolt, even though I know that’s not the right command.

A loud sort of crack rings out, and I look around frantically to see where it came from, but I don’t have time to see anything before Thunderbolt suddenly jerks to the side, practically unseating me. His ears pin back, and then he tosses his head almost violently, making a snorting noise.

“It’s okay,” I say to the horse, my heart racing.

But my words don’t help to assuage the animal, and I let out a loud scream as he spins on his hooves and launches into a full gallop.

The world becomes a blur as Thunderbolt takes off, and I’m clinging to the reins for dear life.Oh no! Oh no!The pounding of his hooves reverberates through my entire body, each thud sending a jolt up my spine. The wind tears past me, catchingmy hat and whipping it away, tumbling through the air before vanishing into the field.

“Macey!” I hear Zane shout from somewhere.

It feels like we’re moving at an impossible speed, the ground beneath us flashing by in streaks of green and gold. My heart slams against my ribs, my breaths coming fast and shallow as I try to keep my balance. The saddle feels slippery, my position precarious, and every movement of the horse beneath me is unpredictable and powerful, and I don’t know how to stop it.

I’ve never been so scared in my life.

“I’m coming, Jane!” I hear a woman shout. Monroe? I try to turn my head to look for the voice, but Thunderbolt jerks us to the left as the fence line rushes toward us.

We are going to hit the fence. Or, worse, he’s going to stop at the fence and I’m going to go sailing over it, tumbling to the ground and breaking every bone in my body. This is it. Thisishow I die.

“Stop! Please!” I plead, but Thunderbolt doesn’t listen.

He barrels toward the fence, and I cling tighter to the reins, praying he doesn’t send me flying over. My knuckles ache, and every muscle screams from the effort of staying on. I’m not even sure how I’m doing it—I’m just holding on for dear life.

“Help!” I shout, my voice cracking as I twist desperately to see anyone who might stop this nightmare.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the stable master on a horse of his own, galloping toward us at an angle, his face calm but focused. How is he so calm?

“It’s okay, Miss Bennet, I’ve got him!” he calls, his voice steady in contrast to my panicked breathing.

Thunderbolt jerks to the right again, narrowly missing the fence, and I hold in a scream as the stable master closes the gap between us. With precision, like he’s done this before, he reachesfor Thunderbolt’s reins, and I let go and grab on to the edges of the saddle, the stable master’s horse matching stride for stride.

“Easy now, boy,” the stable master says, his voice soothing but somehow loud enough to hear over the pounding of hooves. “Easy, Thunderbolt.”

The shift in Thunderbolt’s behavior is almost immediate. His ears swivel back, and his pace slows, though his strides are still heavy. The stable master pulls gently on the reins, coaxing the horse to settle down even more.

When Thunderbolt finally halts, my whole body sags forward, trembling and drenched in sweat. My hands clutch the saddle, gripping it like a lifeline as I gasp for air, my heart practically beating out of my chest.

“You’re all right now, Miss Bennet,” the stable master says, holding on to both sets of reins firmly.

“Macey!” Zane runs up to us, somehow no longer on his horse. He quickly helps me dismount. The moment my feet are back on solid ground, his arms pull me in, holding me close as though to reassure us both I’m safe.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hands moving over my back like he’s checking to make sure I’m in one piece.

“I’m fine,” I choke out through tears. Now that the adrenaline is moving out of my body, the weight of everything is hitting me all at once. I was on a runaway horse. I actually feared for my life.

One thing is for sure: That wasnotthe therapy I needed to get over my fear of horses.

“What the hell happened?” Zane asks.

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