She steered him to the last jump, the little vertical rail, the one she hadn’t worried about. They had too much speed coming into it. Her shoulders ached and her legs didn’t seem to respond to what her brain was telling them as she tried to slow Pressman. She grabbed at the reins. As soon as he turned the corner and spotted the jump, he started a flat-out run. Her heart beat a wild tattoo against her chest and droplets of sweat rolled down her side. She shortened the reins again, pulling, knowing it was the exact opposite thing she should be doing but couldn’t stop herself.
Not good, not good, she thought, trying to sit up and take charge. The horse wasn’t listening. Annoyed at her, he ripped the reins through her fingers and ran faster. The jump was right in front of them. Cory folded forward over his neck, released her grip on the reins, shut her eyes, and prayed.
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