His breath emptied. His voice went raw. His arms became boneless and fluid. No matter. He’d yell, he’d ride, he’d fight. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t have to.
Love rarely did.
Emotion breached his defenses, trickling into his sinews, filling him with strength. One last push and the hard land was beneath them. In another length, the danger was past.
The scent of smoke sharpened, pungent. Then the courtyard came into focus. Lamps in the windows shone brightly, and several grooms emerged from the stables, shouting. He barely acknowledged them.
Ignoring everything, he dismounted and raced back to the door, wet coat flapping, heart beating hard and high. As the dim interior of the carriage came into focus through the blur in his eyes, Julia raised her face, lids squeezed closed. Minutes had passed since he’d brought the carriage to a stop, but she hadn’t released the strap.
Safe.Relief—and something more—flooded his senses, as strong and fierce as the furious river.
“We made it,” he said through heavy breath.
She opened one eye. “Did you see that wall of water?”
See it?He’d have nightmares for weeks. “I promised to deliver you safely.”
“And the bridge?” she asked.
“Uncrossable, I wager.” If not fully gone. “I didn’t spare a glance back.”
For good reason. Any hesitation could have cost them their lives. Fifteen seconds—maybethirty—andthey’dhave been a part of the river, too.
She slid to her knees and reached out, wiping mud splatter from his cheek. “You’re not hurt?”
“No.”
“And the horses?”
“Excited, still. In good hands. They appear to recognize the grooms.”
Without warning, she launched herself out of the carriage. Throwing her arms around his neck, she squeezed him hard. “It’s a miracle.”
He turned his face into her hair and inhaled. “Not so much a miracle as a combination of hubris, stupidity, and luck.”
She thumped his shoulder with a tiny closed fist. “Have you no sense of wonder?” She pulled away and grasped his cheeks tight between her spread fingers. “Have you no sense of appreciation?”
Wonder. Was that the word for the wind that had caught in his heart?
“With your permission, I say we turn in for the night.”
A mad little laugh bubbled up in her throat. “Yes, yes, whatever you think is best.”
He didn’t even have the strength to tease. He helped her down from the carriage and leaned heavily on her shoulder as they made their way inside.
The real miracle was that he could walk.
The real miracle was that he kept himself from clasping her to his chest and raining grateful kisses all over her hair and face and neck.
A maid met them just inside the door and quickly directed them to a private parlor. She returned with two steaming cups just as they’d taken seats.
“Looked like you both could do with something heated,” she said without quite meeting their gazes. “Mr. Todd is out inspecting the damage, but he’ll be back soon enough.” She glanced at the door and back to the couple. “If you’ll pardon the impertinence, you had best come up with a good story. Mr. Todd sees himself as keeper of the moral order. Can’t say he’ll take to your lady’s clothes.”
The maid blushed, curtsied, and was gone.
“I know, I know,” Julia sighed. “I’d forgotten about the breeches. Seems I can’t fool anyone who sees me in daylight. You were right. I make a terrible man.”
“I think,” his voice croaked through his raw throat, “you could accomplish anything you had a mind to accomplish.”
