Chapter 32
Well, Peter Ashford got his wish–the competition is definitely not
boring.
At least, not while he’s eating Eliza Kinsley’s dust.
I watch with glee as my friend guides her horse over, under, and around the extensive obstacle courses with such expert efficiency that Peter can only do his best to keep up.
Everyone gathers to watch the match, and I see the respect on Mason’s and the stable hands‘ faces. I particularly love the jealousy on the other contestants‘ faces.
Eliza looks like she’s having the time of her life, laughing and whooping in excitement. I beam with pride as I move closer, away from the crowd, to see her properly.
Just as they round the arena and are headed for us again, I hear a loud shriek. I turn in time to see Valerie fall, the reason nowhere to be
found.
Her actions, however, spook Peter’s horse, which was galloping on that path. The horse bucks, rears on its hind legs, and changes direction–towards me.
My eyes widen–at the panic on Peter’s face when he realizes he’s lost control of his horse.
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The horse that’s now barreling straight towards me.
When I watch movies like this, where someone is in the line of collision and they just stand there, I scream insults at the screen, yelling at them to ‘fucking move!‘
But I get it now. My entire body is frozen as everything seems to slow down around me. And all I can do is wonder how bad it will hurt to get trampled by a Thoroughbred.
Then I feel something else slam into me and I go flying to the ground -out of the path of collision.
The impact with the ground knocks the wind out of me, and my vision darkens slightly when an extra weight lands on me none–too–gently.
I blink the dark spots away as emerald green fills my vision. “Shit, April, are you okay?” a familiar voice pants above me.
My mouth opens but I’m unable to form words as I stare up at Nathan, his face contorted in fear and worry.
He’s lying on top of me, his left hand cradling the back of my head, which is probably why I didn’t crack my skull open on the hard- packed earth.
“I…can’t breathe,” I choke out.
His eyes widen as he moves, lifting his weight off me. His hand still cradles my head gently, and he helps me sit up.
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“Did you ” I stare at his white pants, streaked with dirt and grass.
“You saved me?”
He ignores my question, his eyes searching my face. “Are you okay?” he asks urgently. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
I shake my head, unhurt but a little stunned.
I was just almost trampled by a horse–but Nathan saved me. Again.
“Oh God, April!” I turn, remembering my surroundings as Eliza and Peter sidle next to me on the ground. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“I’m so sorry,” Peter says, looking sincere for probably the first time since I’ve known him. “Silver startles easily, I should have had a better handle on her.”
I smile. “It’s okay.”
“Let’s get you to the infirmary.” I turn back to Nathan, who still has his hands around me. “I want to make sure you’re not hurt anywhere or have a concussion.”
He removes his hand from my head and starts to take off his jacket. But I reach out and catch his wrist, my eyes zeroing in on the scratches on his hand from trying to cushion my fall.
“You’re the one that’s hurt,” I whisper.
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He tries to snatch his hand from my grip, but I hold it firm, staring at the blood trickling down his knuckle. “That’s nothing.”
“But-”
“My leg!”
We turn, and the crowd that had gathered around us parts–to show Valerie on the floor, clutching her leg.
“Nathan.” Her lower lip wobbles, and I swear tears brim at the corner of her eyes. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
Nathan sighs and he turns back to me, an apologetic look on his face.
He pulls his hand out of my grip, and I have to force myself not to reach for him as he moves towards Valerie. “Where does it hurt?” he asks tenderly, and I force myself to look away.
“What the hell?” Eliza whispers furiously.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
The crowd around us thins, the remaining girls and stable hands returning to their horses.
“Does she need any help?” Mason asks worriedly.
“We’re good,” Peter says.
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“You saw it, right?” Eliza asks Peter as Mason walks away. “She tripped over nothing. The attention wasn’t on her for a second and she couldn’t stand it.”
Peter nods, shooting Valerie a disgusted look. She has a boot off, and Nathan is inspecting her ankle. She lets out periodic gasps of pain.
“She’s a fucking clown,” Peter mutters.
“Can you stand, April?” Eliza asks.
I nod letting her help me to my feet. I brush dirt off my pants, turning away from the upsetting sight of Nathan and Valerie.
“You know he’s only humoring her because of that stupid gift, right?” Peter says to me.
Eliza’s eyes flash. “The gift that April ma-”
“So, that was quite the race,” I say loudly, interrupting Eliza. I shoot her a meaningful look, and she rolls her eyes.
“You were struggling to keep up.” I nudge Peter playfully.
He scoffs. “My horse got startled; we have no way of knowing who won,”
“Oh please,” Eliza snorts, forgetting that she’s usually shy. “Your horse probably got tired of staring at my horse’s butt.”
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“Plus,” I add, “she kept a hold of her horse while yours almost turned
me into a foot mat.”
Peter huffs and runs his hands through his hair, sending his dark curls sticking out in every direction. “I’m out of practice.”
“Out of practice, or out of depth?” Eliza grins, her eyes twinkling.
Peter gapes, momentarily speechless. He points a finger at her like he wants to make a declaration, and for a moment, I watch both of them face off, and I think how perfectly matched they are. But then he huffs and storms away like a little child.
Eliza’s eyes widen as she turns to me. “Did I just piss off an Ashford
heir?”
I shrug, unable to keep the grin off my face, remembering my words to him that day in my room: “Then let’s hope your bride is one hell of an entertainer.”
I wrap my arms around her. “What you did, my dear friend, is make your mark. Peter Ashford won’t soon forget you.”
“Oh God.” We burst into laughter as I throw my head back and let the cool morning breeze wash over my face.
And for that lighthearted moment, I don’t think about Nathan or Valerie just behind us.
But I do hope that her fucking leg is broken.
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Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me
