Olivia twisted the initialed handkerchief she’d received from one of her Sunday school students last Christmas. How could she have been so foolish as to say she’d teach horseback riding? Abigail sat on the settee across from her in the Quincys’ back parlor, a look of amusement on her face. “Just tell Charles you’ve changed your mind.” “I can’t. I’d have to tell him the reason. That would be utterly humiliating.” She bit her bottom lip and heaved a sigh. “Besides, I can’t let the girls down. I’m sure he’s told them by now.” “Hmm. Maybe you could put them off while you take a few lessons.” “It’s not lessons I need, Abby. I learned to ride, at my father’s insistence, when I was a child. But I never got over my fear of horses.” A shudder ran through her body. “I don’t know why. As long as they’re hitched up to a buggy, they don’t bother me at all.
