The horse completely lost it. He reared, his hooves slashing at the air and his powerful body tightening under me. I grabbed for mane, reins, and instinct. Those were the only three things that ever mattered on a horse who was panicking.
My thighs locked around the saddle. “Hey, boy. Easy. Easy, baby, it’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay. The sudden wind whipped stinging dust into my eyes and the temperature dropped so fast, the sweat on my arms chilled instantly, the sky opening up just minutes later. Rain poured down in sheets so heavy I couldn’t see anything but a cold, blinding gray.
I blinked hard, wiping water from my eyes, but it made no difference. Hustle bolted forward and every jolt of his hooves sent water spraying up.
“I know, I know,” I said through clenched teeth, leaning low over his neck to keep my balance. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
As an experienced equestrian—not a horse girl, I thought wildly—I was able to keep my butt in the saddle while Hustle zig-zagged in sheer panic, trying to outrun sirens, thunder, and rain that felt like handfuls of gravel thrown at our faces.
I didn’t know how many races he’d run in his career, but he seemed to be running the race of his life right now, his speed and the strength of his strides absolutely stunning. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve been transfixed by this, but not now.
“Turn, Hustle. Come on, you’ve got to turn.”
But he didn’t and I couldn’t make him. The wind howled. I couldn’t tell where the road was anymore. My hair whipped around my face and my jeans were soaked through, clinging to my legs. My fingers kept slipping on the reins and I had to constantly readjust so I wouldn’t lose them entirely.
Lightning split the sky, so bright that I saw it even through squeezed-shut eyes. Hustle lurched sideways and my shoulder slammed into his neck, pain zinging down to my elbow.
“Please,” I whispered, because it was all I had left. “Please, Hustle, just slow down so I can find something familiar. A fence. A tree. A yellow brick road. Anything.”
Nothing appeared. It was just endless rain, endless wind, and an endless white-gray haze that obscured everything. I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to cry. Crying could get Hustle killed and it would only keep me from thinking, which was the only weapon I had.
The horse stumbled, caught himself, and surged forward again. My heart hammered and my muscles burned, but I managed to stay on. More than fear, however, and even more than adrenaline, one thought pulsed through me with every beat of his hooves.
Trent is going to be so pissed at me.I hated that I’d done this to him, but I also hated that the ring on my finger felt like both an anchor and a knife. Another crack of thunder boomed overhead and Hustle planted his hooves, flat out refusing to move.
I almost flew over his head, but halfway past his neck, I managed to regain my balance, leaning down low and trying to coax him forward. I was panting, my heart loud in my ears, but I forced my voice to keep calm. “Come on, boy. We need to find shelter, okay? Anything that can protect us a little.”
His whole body trembled under my hands as the storm roared around us, the wind clawing at my hair and clothes, the rain coming down sideways in the wind now. The sirens wailed again, louder and closer, and his ears pinned flat. He backed up a step, snorting hard.
“Okay,” I whispered, sliding off his back even though every instinct screamed at me not to. My boots hit mud so slick I nearly went down. “Okay, sweetheart, it’s alright. We’ll find shelter. Just follow me.”
He didn’t. He only pressed his nose into my shoulder, his big body shuddering with panic. The first piece of hail hit then, a sharp, solid thunk against my arm. Then another. Then more. The ice was small at first, like someone throwing handfuls of pebbles at us, but the temperature dropped even more and it happened so fast, my breath fogged.
“Hustle, move. Please?—”
A voice cut through the wind. “Charlotte!”
I spun, squinting in an attempt to see through the rain. He appeared like a mirage, Trent on horseback, charging toward me like the rain didn’t faze him.
“Trent!” I screamed back, though it probably came out as mangled and wet as everything else.
He didn’t slow or hesitate, galloping straight up to me, leaning down, and scooping me up onto his horse in one smooth motion. My soaked body collided with his warmth, his arm clamping around my waist, anchoring me.
“Hold on,” he shouted against the wind as he grabbed Hustle’s reins from me.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his chest.
The next few minutes were a blur of pounding hooves, stinging hail, and rain that felt like needles. Trent pressed me against his chest, blocking most of it with his body. I turned to look, and thankfully, Hustle was following us, keeping right on the tail of Trent’s horse.
By the time the stables came into view, the hail had grown from pebbles to marbles, the stinging turning sharp enough to make me yelp as Trent pulled us straight into the aisle. He slid off, grabbed me, then reached for Hustle without missing a beat.
Everything was motion, and noise, and adrenaline until suddenly, it wasn’t. The next thing I knew, we were safely inside the house, dripping everywhere, and the instant the door shut behind us, the power cut out with a heavy, heart-dropping thump and the house went dark.
“Trent?” I breathed, blinking hard.
“The generator will kick in,” he said. “Just give it a second.”
