He was. And he knew it, too. He probably saw Layne as a conquest. He was the kind of guy who’d keep a list of all the girls in school and check each one off when he was done with her. God, she watched him check out Taylor every day.

I’m not perfect either.

Oh, that had sent her heart tripping in her chest for a long while.

Until she remembered that he probably had a whole cache of one-liners.

The cool air made her horse fresh, and he skittered sideways when a bird flew across the trail. She gave him a quick pat on the neck, checking the rein to remind him that she was up here, in control.

Ha. In control.

This was just about the only place she ever felt in control. Of anything.

But at least the horse was fooled. He settled, relaxing into a rolling stride that she could sit all day. The trail was open ahead, the sunlight painting dapples across the grass. Peaceful. She closed her eyes and inhaled.

And then she was in the air, no horse beneath her.

And then she was hitting the ground.

Her fingers still had a firm grip of the reins, one of those things they teach you early. Presumably so the horse wouldn’t get away.

But not only was he getting away, he was also dragging her.

It hurt.

Let go. Let go. Let go. Her fingers wouldn’t work.

Then they did. Layne crumpled into a heap on the path. She wished her helmet could protect her whole body. She hadn’t even hit her head, so a fat lot of good that did. Her hip was making a good case that it would be protesting this venture tomorrow.

The horse must have spooked. The fall had been one of those hard ones where the animal is suddenly gone from underneath you, leaving nothing to catch you but dirt. Stupid, to close her eyes like that. God, what kind of idiot closes her eyes while cantering on the trail?

The same kind of idiot who takes a full ten seconds to realize you should let go of the reins.

Thank god no one was at the farm, though she didn’t have much time. If her horse made it back without her . . . well, there’d be hell to pay. They’d call her father.

Like he needed one more disappointment in his life.

Layne sat up on the trail, dusting off her breeches, assessing damages. Nothing hurt too badly. She looked back to see what could have frightened the animal—though sometimes it didn’t take much.

But there was someone sitting in the middle of the trail. Sitting up, dusting himself off, doing the same things she was doing.

Holy crap, she’d run into a man.