The Chase (2 page)

S
omething was driving Chancellor crazy
.

Doug Cummings ran his gloved hand down his horse’s neck as the big Thoroughbred stomped his foot and snorted, tossing his head wildly from side to side. A swarm of gnats buzzed around Chancellor’s ears and Doug batted them away, but the horse continued to prance as they rode down the trail, tugging on the reins and flinging his head low between his front legs.

“Hey, boy, what’s bothering you?” Doug said, leaning forward in the saddle to see if he could spot anything on Chancellor’s chest.

Chancellor yanked his head to the left, biting at his side, and kicked out with both hind legs. Something sharp stung the back of Doug’s neck, and he swatted at it, then ducked as several insects buzzed around his head.

“
Bees,”
Doug yelled over his shoulder, kicking Chancellor into a canter. Chancellor leapt forward and Doug heard the clamor of hooves as horses behind him scrambled to escape the swarm of bees. A low-hanging branch slapped Doug’s face, and he raised his arm to shield himself from the dense summer foliage as Chancellor galloped up the trail towards the open field that lay ahead.

As they burst into the clearing, Doug spotted the master of the Middleburg Foxhounds, Richard Evan Clarke, and his group of riders a short distance down the field. Smitty, the huntsman, rode beside Richard. Smitty raised his arm in greeting and Doug cantered Chancellor towards the group.

“Whoa, boy.” Doug leaned back and pulled on the reins as he neared Richard.

“I thought you were leading the slow group for the trail ride today, Doug,” Richard said with a smile. “You’re going at a faster pace than we were.”

“Not by design,” Doug said breathlessly. “We stirred up a nest of bees.”

“Did everyone get by all right?” Smitty asked.

Doug turned in the saddle. “I’m not sure. It just happened. We were down the trail in Snyder’s woods.”

The men watched as a string of a dozen or so riders cantered into the clearing and rode towards them.

“Is everyone okay?” Doug called.

Wendy Brooks, the hunt secretary, shook her head as she pulled her horse to a stop in front of them. “A couple of Margaret Southwell’s students are having a hard time. One little girl got bucked off, but someone retrieved her pony for her, and she got right back on. I think she’s fine.”

She paused and caught her breath. “Then one of Margaret’s adult riders freaked out when the horses started acting up from the bees, and she jumped off and refuses to get back on.”

Doug smiled. “I’ll bet I know which one it was. The short woman with the dark hair, right?”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “How’d you know?”

“I thought Margaret might have a problem with her. She was uptight before the trail ride even began.”

Smitty chuckled. “I’ll bet Margaret’s fit to be tied.”

Wendy nodded. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Where are they?” Doug asked, eyeing the tree line.

“Margaret turned back with her riders and is taking the trail by the creek so they don’t have to go through the bees. They’re taking it slow, though, because the one lady is on foot.”

Doug glanced down at Chancellor. He was lathered with sweat and still breathing hard, but he didn’t appear to be having an adverse reaction to the bee stings. “I’ll go give them a hand.”

“Do you want us to wait for you here?” Richard asked.

Doug shook his head and gathered up his reins. “I’ll meet you back at the trailers.”

Wendy brought her horse alongside Chancellor. “I’ll go with you.”

“Great,” Doug said, trying to hide his look of surprise. Wendy had pretty much avoided him since Nancy Williams’s death the previous fall.

Doug urged Chancellor into a trot. “If we cut through Hunter’s Haven Farm, we can meet up with them on the creek trail.”

Wendy nodded and they rode in silence until they reached the gate that led to the back pasture at Hunter’s Haven. Doug dismounted and opened the gate, pulling Chancellor out of the way so Wendy could walk her horse through first.

Wendy hesitated. “Doug.”

“Yes?”

Her round face reddened and she averted her eyes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

He frowned. “For what?”

“For not trusting you.” She waved her hand in the air. “For telling that horrible deputy that I feared you had something to do with Nancy’s death. And for what I said to that television reporter.”

Doug drew in a deep breath.
This was a conversation he’d rather not have right now. Wendy was dredging up memories he had worked hard to forget
.

“You really hurt Nancy when you broke up with her, Doug. I was angry with you for that, and I guess I just wasn’t thinking straight.”

Doug lowered his gaze and let Chancellor nuzzle his hand. “You weren’t the only person who suspected me.”

“I know. But we’ve been friends a long time and I should have known better. I’m truly sorry. And I shouldn’t have waited this long to tell you that.”

Chancellor nudged his head against Doug’s chest, and Doug stroked his horse’s face, still slick with sweat from the encounter with the bees.
What should he say? No problem, Wendy. You falsely accused me of murder, but no hard feelings
.

He forced a smile. “Thanks, Wendy. I appreciate it.”

She gazed down at him from her horse. “It must have been so hard on you. The murders. Then Samantha being kidnapped. But at least Zeb McGraw is in jail, where he belongs. Thanks to you.”

A chill crept up Doug’s spine; he pushed McGraw’s image from his thoughts. “We’d better get going if we want to find Margaret and her group,” he said, gesturing towards the open gate.

Wendy nodded and kicked her horse forward. Doug led Chancellor after her, fastening the chain on the gate, then stepped up on one of the fence boards to climb into the saddle. As Doug gathered the reins, Chancellor tensed and perked his ears, staring towards the tree line at the bottom of the hill. Doug tilted his head and listened.

“Come on. I think they’re down there.”

Wendy trotted after him down the grassy hillside. As they entered the woods, Doug pulled Chancellor back to a walk.

“Careful. It looks like that downpour we had last week really washed this trail out,” he said over his shoulder as he let Chancellor pick his way through the rocks and roots that jutted into the steep trail.

When they reached the creek, Doug stopped for a moment, listening. The musky scent of damp earth and lush undergrowth was heavy, and the muggy air seemed to close in around him.

“Do you think we missed them?” Wendy asked.

Doug brushed a deerfly off Chancellor’s neck. “No, they haven’t passed by here yet. There aren’t any fresh hoofprints.”

Wendy turned and looked up the trail.

“Hear them?” Doug said after a moment. “It sounds like they’re just around the bend.”

The slow sound of hoofbeats grew louder and a few minutes later the group came into sight. Margaret Southwell was in the lead, on a big chestnut horse, and she held the reins of a riderless brown horse. A man, a woman, and two girls rode behind Margaret, and a woman on foot lagged about twenty feet behind them.

When Margaret saw them, she raised her reins in greeting. “I hope you didn’t come out here looking for us.”

“Sorry about the trouble with the bees,” Doug said. “I hope everyone’s all right.”

Margaret shook her head dismissively, making her gray curls brush across the collar of her navy polo shirt. “Bees are just a fact of life when it comes to summer trail rides. I’m sorry I brought along a student who obviously wasn’t up to participating with the group.”

Doug detected an uncustomary sharpness in Margaret’s deep drawl and he smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it. That’s one of the reasons we host these trail rides, remember? For inexperienced riders and young horses.”

The woman on foot had caught up with them. “I heard what you said, Margaret, and I’m sorry if I’m an embarrassment to you.” She paused, gasping for air, and wiped a trickle of sweat off her flushed cheek with her gloved hand. “I told you I was frightened when I first got on the horse. You were the one who insisted that I stick it out and come along on the trail ride.”

Margaret pursed her lips. “You said you want to foxhunt this fall, Evelyn. The only way to get ready for hunting is by sitting on a horse.”

The woman shot her a look but didn’t say anything.

Doug cleared his throat. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Doug Cummings. I was leading your group when we stirred up the bees.”

The woman gave him a brief smile. “Hello. I’m Evelyn Jacobs.”

“I’m sorry about the bees, Evelyn. It can be a frightening experience when the horses get all riled up like that. I’m glad no one was hurt.”

“
Frightening
doesn’t begin to describe it. I’ve never seen Mouse act like that. I’ve ridden him dozens of times in the ring and he’s always been good as gold.”

“Well, sometimes the horses get a little more excited in the field than they do in the ring. It’s the herd instinct.” Doug glanced at the riderless horse next to Margaret. “Mouse seems to have settled down just fine. I’m sure you won’t have a problem if you get back on him now.”

Evelyn shook her head vehemently. “Not in a million years.”

“You’re wasting your time, Doug; I’ve already had this conversation with Evelyn.” Margaret’s blue eyes flashed beneath the black velvet brim of her hunt cap.

Doug took a deep breath. “Look, Evelyn, it’s a pretty long hike back to the trailers on foot, and the forecast is for severe thunderstorms this afternoon. You don’t want to be caught out here in bad weather.”

Evelyn didn’t respond, but she squinted towards the sky, and Doug dismounted and looped Chancellor’s reins over his arm.

“Mind if I take Mouse?” he asked, approaching Margaret.

Margaret handed him the reins. “Be my guest.”

Doug looped the thong of his hunt whip through the ring on Mouse’s bit and looked at Evelyn. “How about if you get back on Mouse and I lead you next to my horse? I’ll have hold of Mouse the whole time. Nothing bad will happen. I promise.”

Evelyn eyed the whip skeptically. “Can you really control him like that?”

“Absolutely. Come on, I’ll give you a leg up.”

B
y the time Doug led the group into the field where the trailers were parked, most of the rest of the riders had already loaded their horses and were mingling around the picnic table.

Richard Evan Clarke met them at the gate. “I was beginning to worry about you. Is everyone all right?”

“We’re fine,” Doug said.

Richard eyed the makeshift lead Doug had fashioned from the hunt whip. “Would you like me to give you a hand?”

Before Doug could respond, Margaret said, “For God’s sake, Evelyn, you can ride back on your own from here to my trailer.”

Evelyn smiled at Doug. “I think I’m okay now. Thank you so much for taking care of me.”

“No problem.” Doug released his hold on the hunt whip’s thong and pulled it free from Mouse’s bit.

“Margaret, do you need assistance loading the horses?” Richard asked.

She shook her head. “I brought a groom along. He should be waiting at my trailer.”

“All right. See you at the picnic.”

Margaret turned her horse towards the trailers. “Thank you, Doug. I owe you.”

“Nonsense. I was happy to help.”

Wendy waved at Richard and Doug as she rode after Margaret. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Wendy.”

She turned around. “Yes, Doug?”

“Thanks. For what you said earlier.”

She smiled. “I’m glad I cleared the air.”

Doug waited until she rode off, then dismounted and rolled up his stirrups. “I think I’ll just grab a bottle of water and hit the road.”

Richard shook his head good-naturedly as they walked towards the food table. “Let me guess. You’re going to the office. It’s
Saturday
, you know.”

Doug smiled. “Actually, the law firm’s going to have to cope without me for a day. Anne’s baby shower is today. I promised Samantha I’d be home when they return from the shower, so she can show me all the presents.”