Chapter 61

Everyone underestimated Paisley's little brown horse. It was small, slow—perfect, Paisley thought. She'd only wanted a leisurely ride with Serena; no need for a show pony. But the horse's size and gentle nature weren't weaknesses, they were strengths. Its compact build offered incredible balance, a power she'd discovered on her first ride. This wasn't some reckless challenge; Paisley knew her horse, and herself.

Now, that same underestimated horse surged forward, a brown blur. Its determined whinnies answered the earlier laughter. Paisley, her simple t-shirt clinging to her in the wind, sat tall, her gaze fixed ahead. A stray strand of hair brushed her cheek, a soft contrast to her fierce concentration. Her ponytail whipped behind her, stunning the onlookers.

Dominick's furrowed brow smoothed. Shock and admiration warred in his eyes; the rhythmic thud of hooves resonated in his chest, each beat a hammer blow to his heart. Only Paisley existed in his vision. I didn't know she could ride like this, he thought, Did she learn after we split? Or did I just never notice?

Julian stared, speechless. This wasn't the housewife he knew. The noisy crowd hushed. Only Serena's cheers for her mother rang out. Alexis and the others who'd mocked Paisley fell silent, their disdain replaced by awkward stiffness and a prickle of embarrassment. No one dared look back at Marissa, falling further behind. Even Grayson, Marissa's boisterous supporter, fell mute, his mouth agape in disbelief. He blinked, twice, then stared again. Paisley and her little brown horse were far ahead. Paisley wasn't lying, he thought, She's even better than Marissa.

Panic seized Marissa. She watched Paisley pull further ahead. I can't lose, she thought, Not to Paisley, not in front of Dominick and Grayson. Her chest tightened, but she couldn't catch up. As the finish line neared, chaos consumed her. Then, an idea struck.