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They simply stopped in the middle of the road.

She jumped down from the box, went to their heads, and stroked both faces, thanking them, promising them oats, promising them her steadfast devotion for a lifetime.

“Now,” she said, fastening her hand tightly about the lead horse’s reins, close to his mouth, “we’ve got to go back and see to Gray. We’re going to walk back.”

It took only five minutes to cover the road at a nice slow walk, the same road that they’d flown over but minutes before.

“Gray.”

There was no answer.

Durban was standing in the shade of an elm tree just up the road. He raised his head when he heard her voice.

“Durban, don’t move, boy. Just stay there. We’ve got to find Gray.”

She did find him, in an unconscious heap at the foot of the oak tree.

15

THE COLD air grew suddenly colder. The sky, until just five minutes before, had held nothing but rippling white clouds. Now those same clouds were fast becoming bloated and dirty gray.

Jack carefully tied the horses’ reins to a yew bush, then ran to Gray, lying beneath that oak tree. She knelt beside him, her fingers finding the heartbeat in his neck. Slow and steady, thank God. There was a thin line of blood from his forehead down his left temple, where he’d struck the tree as he fell.

She sat back on her heels. What now?

It began to rain.

Durban neighed.

How to get a full-sized man back to the carriage and into it? Gray wasn’t a giant of a man, but he was still nearly twice her size. There was no hope for it. She could but try.

She clutched him beneath his arms and began to drag him back toward the road. It was uphill, and strewn with rocks. She wasn’t going to be able to do it.

She stared at Durban.

She tied his reins around Gray’s chest, then urged Durban to back up. She was inutterably relieved and frankly dumbfounded when Durban began taking tentative steps backward—a plan of hers and it was actually working! Durban dragged Gray beside the open carriage door. She kissed Durban’s nose, told him he was magnificent. Then she stared down at her betrothed, once again flummoxed.

How to get him into the carriage?

The rain was coming down harder. She shoved her wet hair out of her face. Somehow she had to get him to stand up. Then she could tip him onto the carriage floor. She knelt down and slapped his face. “Gray, please, wake up. I’ve got to get you warm. Please, Gray.” She slapped him several more times, but he didn’t respond at all.

She propped him against the side of the carriage as best she could. His back was against the step-down. She was winded when she stood.

“Now, Durban, you’ve got to back up again, only this time go very slowly. You’re going to pull your master toward you and upright, I hope.” Durban took a step backward. The reins tightened and Gray came a foot off the ground. She crouched down behind him, pushing him more upright as Durban took another step back. Then another.

He was nearly standing. She guessed it was as high as he was going to get. She untied Durban’s reins from around his chest.

She raised her face to the heavens and prayed, choking on the rain.

She climbed over him, keeping him steady, until she was kneeling on the carriage floor. Now, she thought, now. She drew a deep breath. She pulled with all her might.

She couldn’t get him off the ground. She nearly yelled her frustration. Saying one “damn” and instantly tasting turnips, she jumped down from the carriage, got beneath him, sucked in another deep breath, and tried to stand and shove inward at the same time.

She couldn’t lift his weight. Durban neighed, poked his no

se beneath Gray’s lower back and lifted his head. Gray slowly slid into the carriage. She and Durban had done it.

She quickly pulled the burlap sack over him and straightened him as best she could. She closed the carriage door, tied Durban to the back of the carriage, and climbed back onto the box. This time, she only lightly flicked the reins and spoke just above a whisper. “Let’s go, boys. There has to be a village back this way. Find it for me, please.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical