That’s funny, because if our roles were reversed, I wouldn’t want to take a chance. I’d remind the waitstaff or the chefs every opportunity I had to make sure there were no costly mistakes.
Eric continues on. “I only found out when I turned about thirteen. It was an uphill battle to figure out these allergies. I had the worst rashes, like the one on my bum.” He recollects in vivid detail all the reactions he’s had to different foods. While it’s interesting, it crosses the line of sharing too much information with me. In fact, it’s probably the last thing a man should share with a woman on their first date. I was positive things were going well, and we were headed down the right path to a future date. Now, I’m not so sure.
Art is close enough to us where I’m sure he can hear everything we’re discussing. I glance around to see what he thinks. His face is hard, yet when he sees me looking, he rolls his eyes. I giggle softly to myself. I’d better stop Eric before he goes any further.
“Alice?”
“Hmm?” I return my attention to him.
“How are your racing skills?”
We’ve reached the dirt track of Rotten Row. It’s dry today and the horses are kicking up a small layer of dust. To our far right, there’s a trio of kids learning how to ride some ponies.
“They’re above average. I can keep up with my brother when we race.”
“In that case, how about we have a little friendly competition?” Eric grins. “You against me. Winner gets to plan our next date.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m not physically ready to try anything past a canter yet. Not to mention, I don’t think we should tempt fate with Poseidon. He’s behaved so far, but once he gets galloping, who knows.”
“Ah, come on, Alice, let’s have a little fun. Besides, I told you earlier, I can handle him. See if you can catch me—let’s say one time around the track!”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I watch in slow motion as he foolishly tugs on Poseidon’s reins and kicks him into a gallop. “Eric, no!” I shout a moment too late.
The thoroughbred horse has been itching to be released from a slow walk and do what he was bred to do. His strides immediately quicken, and soon, he’s in an all-out sprint.
“What does that fool think he’s doing?” Art barks.
“Come on, we’d better get after him. I don’t trust him to stay on the horse!” Reluctantly, I urge Athena into a canter.
The blood leaves my face as I am transported back to Windsor, the day of my accident. I’d been doing some routine jumping practice with Athena. We’d cleared the first two gates of the practice course without any problems. She was maintaining good time and pace.
We turned for the water jump. I brought my elbows in and positioned myself in the saddle for the jump, only instead of sailing over the gate with ease, Athena slipped and skidded to a stop, rejecting the takeoff. I was so surprised that I froze. I had no chance of correcting myself until it was too late.
I remember hitting the ground and feeling like I was lying on a bed of red-hot coals. I couldn’t breathe. All I wanted to do was pass out. It felt like it was an eternity before Danny came to help me, but it only ended up being about a minute. At the A and E, X-rays later revealed that I’d fractured my tailbone. Talk about a long, slow recovery. It took twelve weeks before I could comfortably sit. I couldn’t even think about riding again for a few months after that.
I’ve been lucky that that’s the worst injury I’ve had. It hasn’t deterred me from riding, but ever since, I’ve been more aware and cautious. Seeing Eric being so reckless makes me break out in a cold sweat. He’s taking a huge risk on a horse he doesn’t know. Is he as seasoned a rider as he claims, or was it all for show? I hope for his sake it’s the former.
He’s flying around the track a good half a lap ahead of us. Athena is starting to tire. I slow her pace. I don’t want her to get injured because of something foolish Eric has decided to do.
“Stay here, ma’am. I’ll be right back!” Art and Sefton fly past me as he kicks him into a gallop, and they continue their pursuit of Poseidon. Sefton has always been a faster runner than Athena.
From the quarter-mile mark, I watch as Eric turns his head to try and see where we are.
“Don’t! Stay focused!” I cry, forgetting he can’t hear me.
Poseidon picks up speed and continues as if he’s in the Kentucky Derby, trying to set a track record. My heart beats wildly in my chest; it’s the only sound I seem to hear.
Art and Sefton are gaining on him. “Stop!” he shouts. “If you care about your safety and the horse, stop!”
“I’m sorry, girl; I’ll make this up to you later.” I squeeze my thighs and urge Athena back into a canter until we reach the blokes. I can now clearly make out the backs of Eric and Poseidon. Even through the screen of dust, it’s easy to read how tense Eric’s body is. All the muscles in his arms and upper body are straining to hold control of the horse. Poseidon is slowing, but decides to try and buck the rider off his back.
Eric fights tooth and nail to stay on as Poseidon continues to fight him. Art reaches them first, and like an Olympic diver gliding into the water, he stops, vaults off Sefton’s back, and makes a run for Poseidon to help Eric regain control of the horse. This is a delicate operation. One wrong move could spell a serious disaster for both men and horses.
I arrive at the scene a minute later, jump off Athena, and grab her reins. Both of my horses are breathing heavily. I pat them on the back and speak to them softly, reminding them both how good they are. We walk to the edge of the track, as far out of harm’s way as we can get. Ican’t look. I’m too terrified at what I’m going to see. All I know is after today, I don’t think I ever want to see Eric again.
Twelve
Peeking around Sefton’s back, I see Art’s holding on to Poseidon’s lead while walking the horse in a wide circle. The men are glaring at one another. Poseidon is bathed in sweat. Danny is going to be livid when he sees the state Eddie’s horse is being returned in.
