Chapter 211
“Vinson Elliott, what’s got you acting so lovesick?” Randell muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Vinson had always struck him as someone worldly, not the type to gape like a starstruck fool. Yet here he was, staring slack-jawed toward the arena.
Randell followed his gaze and saw Effie already astride her horse, exuding a bold, commanding energy. With her upright posture and the determined set of her jaw, she looked less like someone about to compete and more like a warrior riding off to battle. The force of her presence was almost enough to make his knees weak.
He paused, momentarily stunned. Effie’s delicate features had always given the impression of someone gentle, almost too fragile for the world-like a delicate flower. But every time he saw her, she shattered that illusion a little more.
For the first time, Randell began to understand what Lyman saw in her.
Just then, Suzan mounted her horse as well, though her movements were awkward and uneven, a stark contrast to Effie’s effortless grace.
Effie cast a cool, fleeting glance at Suzan, her gaze finally settling on Suzan’s midsection.
Suzan’s throat tightened, her heart leaping into her mouth. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself, protectively covering her belly. “Effie, don’t you dare try anything underhanded. If anything happens to my baby, I’ll hold you responsible!”
A cold smirk flickered across Effie’s lips. “I won’t need to lift a finger.”
Suzan’s brows knitted in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Effie didn’t bother to answer. The starting bell rang, and the competition was underway.
By the time Suzan registered what was happening, Effie had already spurred her horse forward, racing into the field ahead of everyone else.
Suzan glared at Effie’s retreating figure, grinding her teeth. “Witch. She said that just to throw me off!”
With a huff, Suzan urged her horse after her.
Effie galloped ahead, the wind streaming through her hair and tugging at her
flowing riding coat. Her fitted vest hugged her silhouette, accentuating every line
of her athletic figure. Reins firm in her hands, eyes blazing with wild determination, she seemed to move as one with her horse-fast as lightning, untouchable.
Suzan threw herself into the chase, but no matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t even get close enough to catch a glimpse of Effie’s coat tails. Frustration darkened her eyes, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Fine, she thought bitterly. Let’s see who comes out on top in the end.
From the grandstands, Lyman sat silent and intent, his eyes never leaving Effie as she rode. He tracked her every movement, a faint, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Interesting. He’d never realized Effie knew how to ride at all. It was as though his wife was a treasure chest, full of hidden surprises, waiting for him to discover them one by one.
But in the next instant, Lyman’s smile vanished, replaced by a look of cold fury.
“This is your idea of a surprise?” he growled under his breath.
Randell was just as stunned. He hadn’t expected Effie’s horse to panic so suddenly, or to see Effie thrown from the saddle.
Had she simply let go of the reins, the fall might not have been so bad-there was plenty of soft grass nearby. But Effie, stubborn as ever, refused to release her grip. Determined to keep her place in the race, she clung to the reins with both hands, even as her left arm was dragged along the ground. Her sleeve tore, blood blooming on her white shirt like a crimson flower-beautiful but shocking.
Without hesitating, Lyman vaulted over the railing and landed atop a waiting horse. He took off at breakneck speed, a blur of motion as he raced across the field toward Effie.
He reached her in seconds.
By now, Effie was struggling to pull herself back onto her horse. She tried again and again, only to be thrown off each time. Still, she refused to give up.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, Effie realized someone had come to her side. She looked up, and found herself staring straight into Lyman’s worried eyes. For a moment, she froze, half-convinced she was imagining him.