I should have made him listen to me before we kissed.
Better yet, I should have confessed everything this morning at the museum. I should have followed my heart and trusted that honesty was the best policy, whether I was able to reach Lizzy for her permission or not.
Andrew has become my friend, and you shouldn’t lie to your friends, not even to keep a promise to your twin sister.
I feel awful and terrified and so guilty it’s like a weight tied around my neck, dragging me to the bottom of the shame ocean. But I can’t just stand here and freak out. I have to do something.
I have to go after him, even if my gut insists it’s hopeless.
There is always hope, always, no matter how hard it might be to see it.
I start for my horse, circling around to Death Wish’s side of the long hitching post.
“Elizabeth, wait!” a voice shouts from the direction of the picnic. A moment later, Nick appears under the oak tree, his breath coming fast, “What happened? Why did Andrew ride off like that?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t talk now.” I reach for the horse’s lead as Nick hurries toward us. Death Wish dances a few steps to the side as I untie her, but I whisper as soothingly as I can, “It’s all right, girl. We’re just going to go for a ride.”
“She hates storms.” Nick reaches out to stroke the horse’s tawny throat. “A lot of the horses do. And it looks like there’s a bad one coming.” He nods toward the mountains, where dark, puffy clouds with pitch-black bottoms are lifting their skirts to step over the peaks.
I bite my lip. “Will she be okay if we go slow?”
Nick makes a dubious sound. “Maybe, maybe not. But it’s not her I’m worried about. I don’t want you to get thrown. She’ll be warm in her stable tonight, one way or another. It’s just a matter of what she does to you before she gets there.”
“I have to risk it,” I say. “I have to follow Andrew and explain.”
“He gave you the drink, didn’t he?” Nick asks, making me freeze with my foot halfway to the stirrup.
Letting my boot fall back to the ground, I turn to face him. “What do you mean?” And why does he look so guilty?
No…
Surely Andrew wouldn’t…
“Elizabeth and Sabrina,” Nick whispers. “Only one of them is deathly allergic to strawberries.”
“What?” I murmur, stunned. If Andrew had been wrong, and I’d been my sister, he would have sent her into anaphylactic shock. Chances are, she would have had her EpiPen on her—she always does—and everything would have been fine, but the fact that he was willing to go there…
But then, he didn’t really go there, did he?
“I told him not to,” Nick says, lifting both hands into the air. “I told him it wasn’t worth putting anyone’s life at risk, but he—”
“He didn’t do it.” I cut him off with a shake of my head. “He didn’t give it to me. I found it in his coat and took a drink without asking. He didn’t try to poison me. And he wouldn’t have, anyway. Because I’m not…”
“I know,” Nick says, with such compassion that my eyes burn.
“We never meant to hurt anyone,” I whisper. “I was just supposed to take her place for a little while until she finished with work. I never imagined it would be like this. That I would start to…. That it would feel so…” I break off with a shake of my head as I tighten my grip on Death Wish’s reins. “I’m sorry, but I have to find him. I have to at least try to explain.”
“Take Hero instead.” Nick takes Death Wish’s lead and nods toward his own horse, a steady-looking gray stallion with kind eyes. “He isn’t scared of storms, and you seem like you could use a hero right now.”
“Thank you,” I say, aching with gratitude. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice, but thank you. I care so much about Andrew, Nick. And all of you, too.”
Nick smiles. “Even Jeffrey?”
“Jeffrey,” I echo with a flinch, the name reminding me of the rest of the fallout from our disastrous plan. “He already knows. He’s with my sister, with Elizabeth, and he knows he’s with Elizabeth. I spoke to him on the phone before the ceremony.”
“Really?” Nick’s brows shoot up. “Are you sure?”
I nod quickly, untangling Hero’s lead from the rest of the leather ropes. “He said she was safe, and then I heard her shouting. I don’t think she wanted him to call.” Cheeks heating, I hold my hand out for Hero to snuffle. “I’m also pretty sure she tricked me into coming here because she thought Andrew and I would be…” I trail off with a shrug.
“Good for each other?” Nick supplies. “Well, I can’t say I support her methods, but I agree. You and Andrew are good together. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you, Sabrina.” He smiles and nods toward the trail. “Go after him. Check the pub in the village about four miles north and a half mile west. He goes there sometimes when he needs to think. The farmers are kind enough to pretend they don’t know who he is and don’t make a big fuss.”
“Thank you, Nick.” I slide my boot into the stirrup and swing my leg over Hero’s back. “For understanding. And for not hating me.”
He waves me off. “I don’t hate anyone. There’s too much hate in the world already. Tell my brother that when you find him. And remind him that pride never kept anyone warm at night.”
I nod and dig my heels into Hero’s sides. He’s bigger than Death Wish, so I’m expecting to need to use greater force, but at the first nudge, he’s off at a brisk walk. Another nudge and a squeeze of my legs and he breaks into a canter so smooth it’s hard to believe the trail is as rough underfoot as it looks.
I clutch the reins and lean forward, the wind whipping through my hair and a few fat raindrops slapping my face as we race down the path. I can’t see Andrew on the horizon, but when the trail forks a few minutes in, I don’t hesitate to guide Hero to the east.
Nick said west, but my gut says Andrew isn’t in the mood for a crowded pub, where even the most conscientious farmers are bound to wonder what the hell he’s doing there on the night of his engagement ceremony.
If I know Andrew, he’ll want to be alone. He’ll want to hide out with his thoughts in a place where he feels safe.
I hope I’m right. I hope I know him as well as my heart insists I do.
And I hope I find him before the rain washes Hero off the trail.
It’s coming down like bullets from a machine gun now, stinging every bit of exposed skin and plastering my hair to my head and my thin shirt to my arms. By the time the silhouette of the small abandoned stable Andrew showed me on our first hike comes into view, I’m fell-in-a-lake drenched and everything more than a few feet away is blurry from the rain and dark.
The sunset light is gone now, leaving nothing but a pale gray glow that the storm will soon swallow.
I can’t tell if Andrew’s at the stable until I’m almost on top of it and spot his horse, standing in the shelter of the tin roof on the far side.
Heart pounding louder than the rain, I slide off Hero’s back and guide him next to Barcelona. There’s nowhere to tie him, but the two horses seem glad to see each other—and to find shelter—so I trust that he’ll stay put while I circle around the stable.