Chapter 212
“Give me your hand,” Lyman said, reaching out to Effie. One hand gripped the reins tightly, while the other stretched toward her.
Effie hesitated, her jaw set with determination. “I’m fine,” she replied, refusing his help.
She tried again to mount the horse, pouring every ounce of strength into the effort, and finally managed to haul herself into the saddle.
With her legs clamped tight and hands gripping the reins, she leaned forward, hugging the horse’s neck. She pressed her face close to its ear and whispered softly, as if sharing a secret.
Then, gathering herself, she straightened up and urged the horse forward. They burst into a gallop, wind whipping past, and within moments she’d caught up to Suzan then overtook her, winning the race.
Only after Effie’s victory did Lyman ride over, stopping his horse beside Effie and Suzan.
Randell and Vinson Elliott arrived just moments later.
As soon as Effie dismounted, a figure shot toward her-Shirley-who flung her arms around Effie and hung on tight, sobbing loudly. “Effie, you scared me half to death! I thought… Oh, thank God you’re okay, I was so worried!”
Randell, meanwhile, looked at Lyman, clearly wanting to show concern for Effie, but his innocent expression seemed to say, “Don’t look at me—I had nothing to do with this.”
Lyman’s gaze was unreadable, his eyes fixed on Effie’s scraped arm and leg.
“Alright, that’s enough now. See? I’m fine,” Effie said, ruffling Shirley’s hair as if soothing a startled puppy.
Watching this, Randell couldn’t help but imagine: if Lyman had been the one to hug Effie and get that close, would he be beaming with happiness right now?
But there was no “what if.”
“Mr. Hoffman, I won,” Effie said, turning to Randell after calming Shirley. “You’ll keep your promise and work with me now, right?”
Randell was caught off guard by the question, so flustered that he almost tripped over his own tongue.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp stare burn into him.
He turned his head, meeting Lyman’s dark, penetrating eyes—and felt his heart skip a beat.
“Listen, Lyman, I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this…”
Effie had risked everything in the race, nearly thrown from her horse, yet she wouldn’t give up. All for the chance to partner with Randell?
Randell went stiff, wishing he could crawl into a hole and disappear.
Effie, meanwhile, realized with a start: so Randell and Lyman actually knew each other. Not that it mattered to her. Even if she’d known they were friends, she wouldn’t have used Lyman’s connections to get to Randell-she wanted to win this deal on her own merit.
But Lyman had other priorities right now.
“Want my forgiveness? There’s only one way,” he said.
Randell perked up, eager to please. “Name it.”
“Find out who tampered with Effie’s horse,” Lyman said, his tone cold as steel. “And I want them to pay.”
“Yes, sir!”
Randell shivered inwardly. Whoever dared mess with Effie clearly had a death wish.
Just then, Suzan-who’d been largely ignored-suddenly clutched her stomach and gasped, her face gone pale. “My stomach-it hurts…”
Everyone turned to her now, watching as she doubled over in pain.
Effie just looked at Suzan, a knowing smile on her lips, and let out a cold chuckle. She’d figured Suzan would try to pull something like this, using a stomachache to get attention.