Mary saw the horse only a moment before it rose in the air. She had been so caught in her imagination and so certain the horses would stay to their path racing along the adjoining field that she had not expected one of them to approach her. With a startled cry, Mary jumped to the side, but not with any sort of grace. Her ankle rolled, sending her sprawling on the ground. The hedge snagged her bonnet as she fell, yanking it from her head and freeing a hairpin or two so that a portion of her hair fell in waves to her shoulders.
“Blast,” she muttered as she sat up and rotated one wrist and then the other. They hurt but had not sustained any significant damage from catching her on landing. Her gloves, however, were not so fortunate. One had a rip across the palm, and both were covered in soil, as was her skirt, which she flicked quickly to cover her legs.
“Are you injured?” Fred knelt beside her. “I did not see you there.” He took Mary’s arm as she attempted to rise with some grace.
“My glove is ruined.” She winced as she stood. “And my ankle…ooh,” she moaned a bit as she tried putting her weight on it. It was tender but not broken.
Fred wrapped an arm around her waist.
Mary pulled away. “Sir, please.”
“I only wish to help.”
“Then fetch my hat while I straighten my clothing and assess if there are any further injuries.” She gave him a stern look that begged him to comply. It was the look she had used with limited success on Lydia. Thankfully, this handsome young man did not seem so stubborn as her younger sister and complied. Mary brushed dirt from her skirt and took a limping step. Her left hip was nearly as sore as her ankle.
[from A Very Mary Christmas by Leenie Brown]
