From Wedding Guest to Bride?
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Tina Beckett
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PROLOGUE
THE GROUND WAS so much harder than Elena Solis remembered. She lay there, weird sounds emerging from her throat as she tried to draw a breath and failed. A bolt of panic surged through her. But despite all that, despite the continued gasp for air, despite her fear, she searched the area for her horse.
The music from the speakers at the boarding barn was still blaring, even though she and Stratosphere were no longer moving to the same beat.
It wasn’t the first time she’d taken a hard fall. She’d pulled plenty of stupid stunts in her eighteen years, so she doubted it would be the last. Only this time, it wasn’t a stunt. She’d been practicing for a show, the way she’d done hundreds of times before.
Her eyes arced over the space again, finding Sandra standing nearby.
“Don’t worry. I have Strato. Are you okay? You hit pretty hard.” Elena’s closest friend had dismounted from her own horse and now held Strato’s reins as well.
The poor boy had tripped as she’d rounded a corner during their freestyle routine, not an unheard-of occurrence. Thankfully he hadn’t fallen on top of her. As always, she would just hop up and carry on. You had to get right back on after a fall, right? Wasn’t that how the saying went? Except right now everything hurt. Her shoulder, her left knee.
But the worst was her back.
“Just give me a minute.” She dragged in a shallow breath, then another, the tight band around her chest slowly easing, even as her pain levels crept higher.
She filled her lungs with air, eyes closing in relief that she could finally breathe normally again. Okay, now to get up. As she tried to roll onto her side, sudden shards of pain slashed at her back, and she felt a horrible burning sensation in her spine. Then nothing. Nothing at all. She immediately fell back and lay still, trying to think.
Okay, that had never happened before. The pain in her knee had vanished, though. That was a good thing. Right?
She wiggled her hands, her arms. Her toes.
Everything worked. Wait. Had her toes wiggled? She couldn’t tell. She tried again.
Dios!
“Sandra?” Her voice shook in a way it hadn’t a moment ago.
Her friend took a step closer, the horses moving with her. Strato’s head came down, and he nuzzled her shoulder, giving a soft nicker.
“Do you need a hand?” her friend asked.
“I—I don’t know yet.”
“What’s wrong?” A hint of alarm had entered Sandra’s voice.
“Can you look at my left foot?”
Her friend’s attention moved downward. “What about it? Does it hurt?”
“Is it moving? Look at it. My left foot. Is it moving?”
“No, should it be?” Her friend’s eyes met hers. “Elle? Talk to me. Are you in pain?”
Terror rose up and clogged Elena’s throat, threatening to steal her breath all over again. Her riding helmet pressed against the back of her skull. At least she’d worn that. “No, it doesn’t hurt. And it should be moving. I’m telling it to move.” Please move! Please! “Are you sure? Look again.”
“Okay.” Sandra’s gaze flitted back toward her foot. “It’s not doing anything. Dios, Elle, I think I need to call for help.”
Elena swallowed, remaining very still, knowing she’d made a terrible mistake in trying to get up before she’d assessed the damage. How many times had her father warned her not to move someone who might have a back injury? “I think so, too. Because, for some reason... I—I can’t feel my legs.”
“Oh, Elle...” Her friend pulled out her cell phone and dialed.
Through a tunnel she heard Sandra telling someone where they were and what had happened and begging them to send help. Now.
All Elena could do, though, was lie there and pray. Pray harder than she’d ever done in her entire life.
