“I’m not going any farther. As for the horses, I named my price.”
Rayne yanked open the door. The hinges squealed over the distinct sound of rushing water. “The postilion is going to abandon the carriage.”
Julia’s eyes went wide. “But the last town was four miles back. And we can’t just wait in the middle of the road until the storm passes.” Unintentionally, she shivered. She imagined the carriage slowly turning over as the wheels sank into the mud. She envisioned them trapped, easy prey for the cold and the wet or worse—highwaymen. Her breath came in short, swift pants. “Rayne!”
He set his lips in a thin line. “There are pencils and parchment under the bench. Can you retrieve them?”
She slid off the bench and knelt on the carriage floor. “What do you need to write?”
“A promissory note and directions to my solicitor.” He sighed roughly. “I’m about to purchase a pair of horses. A pair ofwildlyoverpriced horses.”
“They aren’t his to sell.”
“Believe me, with what he’s asking, his employer won’t mind.”
She removed the cushion and lifted the seat. “But why would you pay such a price?”
He shook off his hat and ran a hand through his wet hair. “Because there are not any other alternatives I will allow you to face.”
Her heart skipped. “Are the roads even passable?”
He sent her an inscrutable look. “The paper, please?”
She handed the only box inside the carriage to Rayne. He scribbled a note and folded the parchment.
“You’d best settle in.” He handed back the box. “If I were you, I’d keep hold of that strap.”
“Youcannot mean to act as postilion?” Panic quivered in her throat. “You’re too big. The lead horse will balk. If anyone should—”
“Please don’t even offer. You know I’m not about to let you ride that horse in this storm.” Rayne’s hard expression did not change. “All we need to do is get to the next town. Then we’ll stable these horses and arrange for a new set and a proper driver.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“We discussed this, remember?” he asked.
“If by discuss, you mean headed onto the road in a mad dash, then yes. Riding the lead horse takesskills, Rayne. Skills you don’t have.”
“You haven’t any idea what skills I have.” Then, softer, “I’ll manage, Jules. I’ll make sure you don’t suffer for my decisions.”
Her. He was concerned for her. She chewed on her lip. “Very well. But ask the postilion if there is anything about the horses you should know…and make sure the horses trust you.”
He flashed a half smile. “They’re post horses. They’re trained to accommodate various riders.” He tilted his head. “More than the horses’ trust, I need yours.”
That strange feeling bubbled up again. The sense she could feel what he felt—and what she felt was clearheaded determination.
“I trust you,” she answered.
She trusted he would do his best. She trusted he would not venture beyond his skill. She trusted that there was no one else she’d rather be with when facing rain, fog, cold, and questionable bridges on a muddy country road.
Or anywhere, for that matter.
His smile widened—an attempt to reassure.
Her insides went squishy. “Don’tget hurt.”
“I promise.” He caressed her cheek with his knuckle. Then he was gone.
She pressed her face against the cushion. “And don’t hurt me again, either.”
