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Like the man say's
Welcome back to the ring our first contestant...Organized Confusion
“What do you call that one?” Nikki asked the
old rancher standing next to her. She pointed at an enormous dark gray gelding
watching from the depths of the muddy pasture. An electric shock of recognition
zinged through her, although she'd never seen this particular horse before.
“You don't want that one, ma'am,” the man said
around the wad of tobacco in his lip. “That one's trouble.” He spit a copper
stream at the ground in emphasis.
*
Her father leaned back on the sofa, eyes hard,
as Nikki fell silent. “Not in my house,” he said.
Her mother said nothing, only sat blinking
with one hand over her mouth. Finally, she lowered her hand and smoothed at
invisible wrinkles on her skirt.
“Nicolette, sweetheart …” She faltered. “What
your father is trying to say—”
“I'm not trying to say anything, Marjorie. I'm
saying it. If she wants to get up to that kind of—” He grimaced. “—filth, well,
she's made her choice.”
“Dad—” Nikki wanted to take it back. After
thirty-eight years, the weight of hiding had become unbearable, but she hadn't
been prepared for this. She just wanted her parents to see the real her, the
whole her.
Instead, he stood, looking past her. “You need
to leave.”
“Daddy—”
“I'm not your Daddy. The daughter I raised
would never break her mother's heart or disrespect God's laws in such a way. I
don't know you.”
He left without making eye contact. She
watched him walk heavily down the hall and out of sight. The bang of the screen
door jolted her mother out of her paralysis. Like Nikki's father, she stood.
Unlike him, she studied her daughter's face.
“I don't understand why you always have to
cause such trouble, Nicolette,” she said.
*
Nikki walked the fence-line, mesmerized. She'd
come looking for a new riding horse, but her mental list of requirements had
evaporated at the first glimpse of rich coat and bold stance.
“What's his name?” she asked the rancher.
“He ain't got no name. Ain't gonna be here
long enough to need one.”
At Nikki's questioning look, the man shrugged.
“S'the way it is. Can't sell a horse won't let hisself be broke.”
She watched as the animal's velvet nose
flared, reading the wind. Her heart thumped in time with his hooves as he
galloped to the far end of the field. He slowed near a gnarled old tree and
turned to look at her again.
The gelding held her gaze a moment before
dropping his massive head to nibble at the grass. I see you, his eyes said. You
don't have to let them break you, either.
Also welcome our second contestant...Sicaria
The hounds bay in the distance, their mournful cries
shattering the quiet of the morning.
“Your red hair will give you an advantage,” Melody, my
handmaid, says as she finishes coiling my tresses into elaborate braids.
I glance out the window. Across the manicured lawn, the
brilliant autumn colors turn the forest into a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges,
and yellows. A breeze carries with it the smell of woodsmoke and the promise of
an early snow. “Perhaps.”
Melody grabs a makeup brush and draws swirls of brown on my
face, followed by black. “Are you ready for the hunt?”
I swallow my fear. “Of course.” It’s the expected answer
after I declared I would rather participate in the hunt to keep my land and my
home instead of marry that imbecile, Lord Timothy. In the moment, it’d seemed
the better choice.
My words don’t fool Melody. “It was the right choice, Lady
Celeste.”
I almost laugh. It was an impulsive choice made by an
impulsive girl. Father always said my inability to think before I speak would
be the end of me. I bite my lip to stop the tears from falling. If he hadn’t
died, my future would be secure.
Outside, the sound of men whooping and yelling races toward
my window, and terror coils around me like a boa constrictor squeezing its
prey.
“Do you think I’ll be fine?” My voice is barely a whisper.
The love in Melody’s eyes is reminiscent of my mother. “I’ve
seen several hunts, and winning always comes down to being brave and smart. You’re
both.”
“I’m not brave.”
“You are.” Melody sets down her brush and pulls me to my
feet. “You’ll do well.”
“I wish I didn’t have to wear this.” I smooth my camouflage
skirt with trembling hands.
Melody gives me a soft smile. “If only ladies could wear
pants.”
“If only ladies didn’t have to fight for what’s rightfully
theirs.” The bell tower chimes eight, and my breath quickens.
“Come.” Melody opens my door and ushers me downstairs and
outside.
“I’ll see you in an hour?” Tears prick at my eyes as I look
at Melody for reassurance.
“In an hour.” She kisses my cheek. “Now go.”
I lift my skirts and hurry across the lawn toward the
forest. Near the edge, men on horses wait with their hounds.
“My lords.” I eye the five men on horseback. Lord Timothy
glares at me when my gaze locks with his. My refusal cost him his honor, and if
he wins, he gets that back along with my home and fortune. I lift my chin. He
won’t win.
“You get a five minute lead,” says Lord Andrew. “If we don’t
find you, then,” he waves his hand as though he doesn’t believe it’s a possibility,
“you win. And if we do, well…”
I nod, determination mingling with fear to create a potent
fire. They won’t find me—I refuse to die today.
Lord Chambers cocks an eyebrow. “You better start running.”
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