The skies opened up about the time Kit found herself in the clearing near the house. She’d almost made it to the safety of the trees in front of the porch before the deluge began, but climbing down from Snowduster and securing him to a tree in a location where he had a bit of shelter hadn’t done much to keep her dry. She ran for the porch with a drenched, muddy gown, no way of getting back on the horse where she’d left him, and the sweet smell of freedom in her lungs.