A Momentary Marriage(53)

Laura grabbed the armrest beside her and held on tightly, her stomach seemingly left behind her at the top of the hill, along with her bonnet. As the carriage jounced and swayed toward the bottom, Laura’s mind raced.

If the road had been straight before them, Laura thought the team would slow down once they reached the bottom. However, the slope ended just before the bridge and on the other side of the river the lane bent sharply around the base of the hill. The driver would have no hope of slowing the runaways before they took the curve, and the light victoria would overturn, sending its occupants flying.

“The river!” Laura shouted. “We have to jump!”

The driver swung halfway toward her, still hauling back uselessly on the reins. Laura crouched on the seat and grabbed the side of the carriage, muscles tensing, and prayed she wouldn’t misjudge the jump and land bone-breakingly on the side of the road or be unable to clear the bridge. Prayed, too, that the water would be deep enough, the current not too swift. The endless frightening possibilities charged through her mind too quickly to even grasp them all.

The road leveled out, and the horses pounded onto the bridge. With another shout to the driver, Laura took a deep breath and launched herself from the carriage.





chapter 20


There was an instant of terrifying flight through the air before Laura hit the river. The water was another shock, cold despite the warmth of the day, and her momentum sent her deep enough that her feet touched the bottom. She pushed off with all her might, shooting up through the water.

Her head popped up on the downriver side of the narrow bridge. Water soaked her petticoats and skirts and filled her shoes, but fortune was still on her side, for she landed not far from the shore and the current was a lazy one.

She struck out strongly for the side. Reeds and ferns and even small trees grew along the gently sloping bank of the water, and she grabbed at them, pulling herself in until her feet finally found purchase in the mud.

She could see Littletree not far from her, nearer the shore and upriver, clinging with one hand to a slender sapling growing out of the bank. His other arm hung uselessly at his side; his face was white and contorted with pain.

Laura slogged toward him through the reedy water and mud, moving sideways and holding on to whatever plant or root was handy to help propel herself forward against the current. Littletree was obviously too dazed to realize that he could simply push his legs down and scramble up the bank.

She was only a foot from him when the slender branch he clung to finally ripped. He yelled in panic, but Laura was able to turn and reach out, blocking him. She held on to him with one hand, and with the other kept a firm hold on the root of a large tree that protruded from the dirt.

“Put your feet down. Climb.” She hadn’t the strength to hold him long against the current; her grip would soon slip from either him or the root.

But Littletree had recovered enough from his initial panic that he understood and fought for a toehold in the muddy bottom. With his good arm, he managed to grasp another of the roots, and they plowed forward onto the bank. Falling and stumbling, they dragged themselves up the muddy slope and flopped down on the ground, water streaming off them. Laura sat, gasping for air and trying to stop shaking all over.

“Biscuit . . . Binky. . .” Littletree moaned.

Laura looked at him in bewilderment, until she realized he must be talking about the horses. That would be his first concern, of course. “I’m sure they’ll be fine,” she told him bracingly, though she had her own doubts as to that. “They’ll have to stop running after a while. If nothing else, the carriage turning over should slow them down.”

“Ohhh.” He let out another groan at this statement and brought his hand up to cover his eyes.

“You’ve hurt your arm. Is it broken?”

He nodded, his face so white the smattering of freckles on it stood out. “I think so, my lady. I hit it on something when I jumped. The bridge, maybe.” He pulled his feet under him, starting to get up. “I need to find the team.”

“You need to sit right here and do nothing,” Laura corrected, putting her hand on his good shoulder to keep him down. “How do you think you’d handle them, anyway, with only one good arm?”

He nodded, seeing the sense of that. It might have helped that even starting to stand had made him look distinctly queasy. Laura rose, picking various leaves and twigs and a strand of some sort of vine from her clothes and hair. She wrung what water she could from her muddy skirts. Her legs were shaky, but at least the trembling in her fingers had nearly stopped.

“I’m going up to the road. Someone is bound to come along sooner or later.”