The carriage lurched once more, and she gripped the velvet upholstery to steady herself. The storm had begun brewing over the past hour, and each peal of thunder sent shivers of fear and anticipation coursing through her body. She had been assured the coachman was a seasoned hand, with decades in his profession, so she tried to calm herself in spite of all the commotion outside.
"Pardon me," she raised her voice, lightly rapping on the carriage wall in a bid to catch the driver's attention. "Is everything—"
Her words were interrupted by another rumble, this one so loud she was forced to cover her ears. Before she could comprehend what was happening, a white light flashed before her eyes. She lost her balance and stumbled, crashing against something hard and unyielding. Pain shot through her body as the deafening cacophony continued unabated. Then, as suddenly as it all began, everything descended into darkness.
* * *
“Faster!” Ethan yelled out, hoping his voice could be heard beyond the tumultuous weather. Rain lashed at his face, drenching him to the bone. His hair clung to his skull as he squinted against the relentless downpour, struggling to keep his eyes focused.
But it wasn’t fast enough. Everything that was happening was his fault—the fact that he was about to lose the one thing he had worked so hard toward was his doing. Yet, it all paled in significance to something else. Meredith.
His hands trembled, and not just from the cold. They trembled with an overwhelming fear that he was about to lose the one woman he had grown to love in silence for so long. He was a fool, a coward. And if anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.
Ethan snapped the reins harder, spurring the steed on, though it was struggling like himself in the weather. What fool was the coachman who was willing to drive her to the estate? And what fool was she for being so willing to go?
The moment he saw her again, he was going to chide her, and then he would tell her his true feelings—feelings he hadn’t figured out precisely how to put into words just yet.
The rain hammered down relentlessly, and he knew his steed could not maintain the punishing pace for much longer. A bolt of forked lightning split the heavens, causing his horse to rear up on its hind legs.
“Easy!” Ethan shouted. He grasped the reins as firmly as he could, glancing over to his right at the vast expanse of nothingness that threatened to claim him. “Steady now, old chap, steady!”
The horse tossed its head and eventually regained its footing as Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. Without further delay, he urged the beast to a stride and the horse obeyed, picking up its speed once more. The path was treacherous. On one side, the dense trees appeared almost threatening as they swayed violently in the wind, but the other side was what was truly terrifying. There was perhaps a ten-meter space between him and the cliff's edge, with neither protection nor barrier to prevent the inevitable from happening.
Shielding his face with a hand, he tried to block the stinging raindrops from his eyes, straining to see through the limited visibility. He was searching for the carriage desperately, praying to God to make it appear before something horrible happened.
And then, he saw it. The silhouette of a carriage before him, lurching back and forth as it moved ahead at breakneck speed. It looked so fragile from afar, Ethan held his breath the faster it moved, afraid it would topple over the hill right before his eyes and there would be nothing he could do.
“Faster now, boy!” he urged his horse, snapping the reins once more. The carriage was moving so fast, his horse was struggling to catch up, but Ethan was willing to test that limit.
“Meredith!” Though he knew it unlikely his voice could carry above the tempest, Ethan’s heart ached with hope that maybe, just maybe, the coachman would hear him and the carriage would halt by some miracle, and he would see Meredith’s face again.
The earth trembled beneath him, assaulting his senses with a deafening roar. He was convinced he was going to meet his end as another bright white light flashed before him and threw him off his horse. He was tossed meters onto the gravel, barely managing to brace his fall with his hands. His horse stumbled, nearly collapsing, but managed to regain its footing. He winced at the burning sensation in his hands as blood dripped from them, but his sole focus was the carriage that was no longer in view.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he jumped to his feet, squinting against the rain as he tried to make sense of where it had gone. Then, he saw.
“No,” he murmured to himself, “Meredith!”
A vague shadow of what once was the carriage lay in the distance, utterly wrecked. But his heart dropped as his eyes adjusted to its surroundings. Half of it rested on the cliff’s edge, while the other half balanced in the air, threatening to send the whole thing into the chasm below. As he sprinted in its direction, his body fell consumed by trepidation and grief. A groan was heard from just ahead and he noticed the carriage driver escape the ruined coach, making it to his feet with few injuries, but managing.
“Meredith!” he called out. “Where is she?! Can you hear me? Meredith?”
Ethan thrashed at the boards of the carriage, tossing them to the side, despite the pain scorching his hands. Just when all hope seemed lost, he glimpsed her. Meredith lay there, her lips slightly parted, her lashes a dark veil against her pale skin, her body seeming somehow untouched amidst the chaos—almost serene.
“Meredith! No, God, please no!”
He scrambled onto his knees and carefully pulled her away from the wreckage, away from the cliff’s edge, and to safety. Her body was still, aside from the soft rise and fall of her chest. He gently laid her down, her head resting in his lap and his gaze never leaving her beautiful, rain-kissed face. Ethan cupped her cheeks and felt his lips quivering as he watched her.
“Please, wake up. Can you hear me? Meredith?” he pleaded. His voice broke at the sound of her name. “Come back to me, all right? Just open your eyes.”
A soft moan escaped her lips and her eyelids fluttered. Relief washed over him as she slowly opened her eyes, dazed and confused. His hands wrapped around her frame and he held her so close, so gently, almost as if he was afraid she would break into tiny pieces before him.
“Ethan?” she murmured, her voice barely audible with the commotion around them. He ceased caring for the rain that splattered on him.
“I’m here, I’m here,” he comforted.
“Why are you—” She paused, making to sit up, “What happened?”
“Careful, please. The carriage was overturned, and you were hurt.” He encouraged her to lean back into his lap. “But you’re safe now, I promise.”
