The Chase (3 page)

“Give Anne my best, will you?”

Doug reached into the ice chest for a bottle of water. “Of course.”

“Thanks again for leading the nonjumping group today. Will you be at Margaret’s Wednesday evening for our board meeting?”

“You bet. See you then.”

Doug had parked near the entrance to the field, and as he walked Chancellor past the other horse trailers, he loosed the girth and took note of the welts on his horse’s neck and side.

“Those bees really got you, didn’t they, buddy?” Doug said, running his hand over Chancellor’s neck. “Let’s get you home so Billy can give you a cool Vetrolin bath and treat those bites.”

He quickly untacked Chancellor and offered him some water, then loaded him on the trailer and climbed into the Range Rover. As he drove the short distance to the road, Doug directed the air vents towards his face and sighed as he felt the welcome blast of cold air.

Doug slowed the rig as he reached Route 7, but traffic was light and he pulled out of the drive onto the divided highway without stopping. As he accelerated up the long hill, he saw the brake warning light illuminate on the dash.

“Damn this car,” Doug muttered. He’d had the Range Rover in the shop twice during the last month for false warnings from the onboard computer. He ignored the warning light and continued to step on the accelerator.

The rig crested the hill and Doug eased up on the gas, settling into his cruising speed. The view from the mountain never failed to impress him, and he took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he surveyed the lush countryside down in the valley. Subdivisions hadn’t invaded that part of Loudoun County yet, and the landscape was green as far as the eye could see. A peaceful patchwork of dense woods, neatly planted crops, and rolling meadows.

The road began a steep descent and Doug stepped on the brake, turning his attention back to the highway. But the brake pedal offered no resistance, and Doug’s pulse quickened as his foot sank to the floorboard.

D
oug tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the Range Rover barreled down the hill towards a hairpin curve in the highway. Once again, he pumped the brake pedal, but the brakes failed to engage. Doug lowered his right hand and groped between the bucket seats for the emergency brake lever, peering at the reflection of the horse trailer in the exterior mirror.

“Hold on, Chancellor,” he murmured, bracing himself for a jolt as he pressed the brake-release knob and yanked up on the handle.

Nothing happened
.

Doug lowered the lever and pulled again.

Still nothing
.

Doug slid his right hand under the dash and felt for the trailer’s brake control, praying that the trailer brakes would be strong enough to stop the rig. His fingers brushed against the plastic box, and he fumbled for the brake switch, holding the steering wheel tightly as he pressed the button.

Nothing
.

Doug jabbed at the button again. Twice. Three times. But the trailer brakes didn’t engage.

“Damn it!” He released the button and slammed his fist into the steering wheel.
What the hell was going on?

Doug’s eyes darted towards the shoulder next to him. The narrow asphalt strip gave way to a steep embankment, which fell sharply towards a jagged tree line. He forced his eyes back to the highway. The stretch of road that lay before him snaked to the left through the turn, then straightened out as it began the steep climb up Mount Weather. If he managed to keep the rig on the highway through the hairpin turn, he might have a chance. Doug’s palms were sweaty, and he fleetingly spread his fingers and slid them slightly along the leather-covered steering wheel, then wrapped his hands firmly around it again.

“Steady,” he murmured as the vehicle’s front wheels entered the sharp curve. Doug’s muscles strained as he fought to hold the vehicle on course, but momentum overcame him, and the SUV shot sideways through the curve, skidded across the shoulder, and lurched down the hillside.

The vehicle bucked over the rough terrain and Doug was flung into the shoulder harness as a large bump hurled the vehicle into the air; then he slammed against the headrest as the Range Rover dropped back to the ground. For an instant, the descent was so steep, Doug couldn’t see the ground in front of him, and, in spite of the air conditioning that was blasting from the vents, he felt sweat pour down his temples and slide down his neck.

Doug drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t lose it now,” he muttered.

The land leveled out, to reveal a rugged rock outcropping directly in front of him, and Doug pulled the steering wheel hard to the left. The right front tire slammed into the rocks, launching the SUV onto its two left wheels, where it teetered precariously, threatening to flip. Doug whipped the steering wheel back to the right, and his breath escaped in a rush as he felt the vehicle steady itself.

The back of the Range Rover jerked to the left, and Doug cast a quick glance in the mirror, feeling his stomach lurch as he saw the trailer sway wildly. Chancellor’s throaty whinny pierced the air, and Doug heard the scramble of hooves as his horse struggled to maintain his balance.

“Come on, Chancellor. Hang in there,” he urged through clenched teeth.

The rig careened toward a band of trees, and beyond that the terrain dropped sharply. A branch smacked the windshield as Doug managed to maneuver the Range Rover around a massive maple, and the tree line sped towards him in a blur of green. Feathery locust trees. Majestic oaks. Towering poplars. With no room to maneuver between them.

“Oh Jesus,” Doug moaned.

The enormous root ball of a fallen oak lay in his path, and Doug swerved the vehicle to the left, just barely managing to avoid it. His right front tire dipped into the void the roots had left, and the sudden jolt twisted the steering wheel out of his grasp. He grabbed the wheel again and steadied it as he stole a glance into the exterior mirror. The horse trailer was wider than the SUV, and he swore as he saw the trailer fender smash into the fallen tree. The impact slammed the trailer to the left and flipped it off the hitch onto its side, sending it skidding down the hill.

A dark blur caught Doug’s attention and his eyes darted forward an instant before the Range Rover smashed into a towering walnut tree. It happened in a flash, yet at the same time it seemed slow and surreal, like in a dream. Doug watched the shiny black hood buckle and wrap around the rugged chocolate - brown tree trunk, and heard the nauseating screech of twisting metal. The shoulder harness jerked tightly across his chest, and he felt the punch of the air bag. Then the windshield collapsed towards him, and the last thing Doug heard was Chancellor’s guttural scream.

A
nne Cummings shifted restlessly in the deep chair cushion as she accepted the last unopened baby gift from Samantha’s outstretched hand. She appreciated Kendall Waters hosting the baby shower for her, but she was relieved it was almost over. Her back ached and she had a splitting headache. And she wanted to be home by the time Doug returned from the trail ride.

The room was warm despite the air conditioning, and Anne regretted her decision that morning to wear her hair down. She was trying to break the habit of always pulling her hair back in a bun: a style Doug called her “lawyer look.” Anne removed the card from the gift and fanned herself lightly with it as she held her blond hair up off the back of her neck.

“Look, Mommy,” Samantha said. “See the rattle? I’m going to make sure the baby always plays with this rattle, so she’ll learn right from the beginning to love horses.”

The gift was wrapped in pink-and-blue-striped paper, with a silver rattle shaped like a horse head secured on top. Anne adjusted the pillow behind her back and untied the ribbon. “Don’t forget, honey, we don’t know if the baby is a boy or a girl. You might be getting a baby brother.”

Samantha frowned. “A sister would be better, but if God gives us a boy, that’s okay. As long as he likes horses and he doesn’t pull on my pigtails the way Tucker does at play group. Boys can be so mean sometimes.”

Kendall sat on the floor next to Samantha. She hugged the little girl and pulled her onto her lap. “I agree with you, Samantha. Some boys can be downright horrid.” A wisp of Kendall’s shoulder-length sleek brown hair slid over her eye, and she reached up absently and tucked it behind her ear as she gave Samantha a smile.

Anne studied Kendall as she handed the rattle to Samantha. Kendall had recently suffered through a painful divorce, and Anne knew just how horrid her husband, Peter, had been. Kendall had the scars to prove it.

Kendall winked at her and Anne smiled back, relieved to see a twinkle in Kendall’s wide brown eyes.

“Come on, Mommy, open it,” Samantha said.

Anne unfolded the card. “
To Baby Cummings, with love from the Hortons.”

She carefully removed the wrapping paper and lifted the lid from the box. Anne picked her way through a cushion of tissue until she uncovered a china plate, cup, and bowl, adorned with a colorful rocking horse motif, and a small silver spoon with an elegant
C
engraved on the tiny curved handle.

Anne lifted the china set from the box and held it up. “Deb, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

She looked at the other eight women seated around the room as she placed the china back in the box. “Thank you all for your lovely gifts. I can’t think of a thing we still need for the baby.”

“What’s your due date, Anne?” Helen Dunning asked.

“August eighteenth. As of today I can officially say I only have three weeks left.”

“You’re not still working, are you?”

Anne shook her head. “I have another attorney handling my cases. I just stay on top of things.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that. I cringe to think of you being around that criminal element you represent. Especially in your current condition.”

“I’ve never been threatened by one of my clients, Helen.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Helen said with a shudder. “So, anyway, August eighteenth is the big day. I’ll have to mark that on my calendar.”

“And that’s really lucky, because I won’t be in school yet, and I’ll be able to be there when the baby is born,” Samantha said.

“My goodness, you’re already big enough to go to school? What grade are you in, Samantha?”

“I’ll be in kindergarten when school starts after summer is over.”

“Samantha will be going to school with my daughter, Emma,” Deb Horton said. “I think you and Emma will have lots of fun in kindergarten, don’t you, Samantha?”

“Uh-huh. And we’re also going to have fun at our riding lessons.”

“Where do you take lessons?” Helen asked.

“At Fox Run Farm. And next week I’m going to riding camp there, and Kendall is going to be my instructor.”

Helen raised an eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t know you were going to be teaching camp, Kendall. My niece, Caitlin, is signed up for that camp session.”

They were interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone.

Kendall lifted Samantha from her lap and rose from her spot on the floor. “I’m sorry. I’d better answer that. I’m expecting a call from my blacksmith.”

She disappeared into the kitchen and the door swung closed behind her.

Helen looked at Anne. “I had no idea Kendall was teaching summer camp at Fox Run.”

Anne nodded. “She worked out a deal with Margaret Southwell to board Wellington at Fox Run for the remainder of the summer in exchange for teaching the riding camp.”

“There are a lot of things I’d do to get a stall at Fox Run, but I can’t say being a camp counselor is one of them,” Helen said, laughing. “That seems a little extreme.”

“Kendall didn’t exactly have the luxury of choice, Helen.”

“You don’t mean that she had to do it for
financial
reasons, do you?”

Anne didn’t respond.

“
Oh my
. I assumed Kendall took Peter to the cleaners. I guess that explains why she’s living here.”

Deb frowned. “What do you mean by that, Helen? I think Kendall was lucky to find this cottage to lease. It’s the perfect size for her, and this setting in the woods is lovely.”