She descended a steep bank, slippery with dew, then guided her horse through a muddy stream. Salty breezes wafted through fields of verdant young grasses and wildflowers in the semidarkness before the rays of the sun penetrated the early morning sky and stilled the air.She had known she would not sleep again when the bedcovers had twisted into an uncomfortable mass. Torturous thoughts had swirled through her brain all night. Only the wind rushing by her face during a good gallop could promise to banish her worries, at least for a little while.Pax stumbled while scrambling up the steep bank of the stream. Jane leaned her weight forward and gave the animal more freedom with the reins. At the top of the bank, her horse stopped and snorted. Jane wondered what Pax saw, and squinted over her mare’s alert ears.A streak of black was in the distance. It was a horse and rider. Going far, far too fast. At breakneck speed, in fact. In an instant she urged her mount into a gallop. She thought that if she could not stop the runaway, at least she could be there to pick up the pieces when the rider fell off.Her horse could not overtake the other.
