Free Pandora's Key by Nancy Richardson Fischer Page A

lest a low branch sweep her off her mount. The air smelled like the sweet decay of leaves, wet earth, and the musk of dogs and horses. Adjusting her gloved hands on the reins, she gave her mount his head and he moved from a canter to a full gallop.
    I don’t know how to ride,
Evangeline thought, looking down at her attire: a tailored wool coat with black velvet collar and cuffs and tight tan riding britches tucked into tall black leather boots banded with brown. “Where’s the fox?” she murmured. Except it wasn’t her voice—it was deeper, with a sexy accent she couldn’t place and what her mom called a ‘bourbon rasp.’ Suddenly a red fox darted across the trail. Evangeline dug spurs into her horse’s flank and he surged forward. The trees were so thick she didn’t see the four-foot-high stone wall until it was only a few feet in front of them.
No!
Her horse leapt, soaring through the air, landing hard on the other side, then lunging onward, up a steep and muddy embankment.
    Evangeline’s thighs ached as she clung to the horse’s back.
Where am I? Who am I?
Her mind scrambled for answers. She knew there was a man named Louis who was her husband and who was much older than she was—they’d married when she was eighteen. Louis liked young women. Now that she was thirty-five, his eyes had begun to stray.
Thirty-five?
That’s why I have to catch the fox first and prove that I’m still the best horsewoman Louis has ever seen.
Yesterday her husband was flirting with their daughter, Cleo’s, young ballerina friends. They were only sixteen. She needed to send Cleo right back to her ballet school in France so that her friends were out of Louis’ sight and mind.
    Spurring her horse, Evangeline and her mount crested the hill. The red fox darted across a creek twenty yards below. Horse and rider charged down the hill, half galloping, half sliding. Mud splattered Evangeline’s neck and face. She could still hear horses behind her and the excited barking of the dogs. She needed to ride faster—she was so close to winning.
I want to get off,
Evangeline thought.
I need to get off this horse!
    They reached the edge of the creek and charged into icy water that pressed around large boulders and flowed with the force of a rain-filled winter and early spring. Suddenly the horse’s ears flattened as if he’d heard a call.
Get off!
Evangeline tried to scream, but she had no voice. She kicked her horse again and he lurched forward. Halfway across the creek, the thoroughbred balked and danced sideways, trying to twist back toward the far shore.
    “Penelope!” a man shouted. Evangeline glanced toward the bank. A dashing, mustached horseman in a tweed riding jacket, brown britches, and gleaming back boots stood in his stirrups, his expression fearful. “Penelope, come back!” But it was too late.
    Evangeline’s horse was whinnying, twisting, and bucking. She struggled to stay in the saddle, but her balance was finally broken and she was thrown—airborne, tumbling toward the rocks and water.
    “Louis!” she cried. But then her head hit a jagged rock and there was a wet, cracking sound. Color seeped from Evangeline’s vision until her world was black and white, flickered once, twice, and then went dark.
    • • •
    “Louis!” Evangeline screamed. She bolted upright, arms flailing, pain shooting through her head.
    “It’s okay, honey. I’m here—it’s okay—you’re okay. Hush.” Samantha was wrapping Evangeline in a tight hug.
    Evangeline breathed in the freshly-cut-grass scent of Samantha’s dark-brown hair. She pulled back and looked at her godmother. Sam’s almond-shaped green eyes were red-rimmed. Evangeline had never seen her cry. “Mom’s really sick, isn’t she?”
    Samantha nodded and said, “Visiting hours were over but I
had
to see her.”
    Evangeline pushed a tangle of curls out of her eyes. “Was she doing okay?”
    Samantha looked away. “Olivia thought there were bugs crawling all over her