Page 26 of If the Boot Fits

The weight on his heart had just started to lighten when the cart in front of him hit a deep rut, and a sharp crack rent the air. A piercing squeal followed, hardening his core in an instant.

The right wheel of the cart broke from the carriage and rolled off the side of the road. The cart crashed sideways, its axle dragging through the dirt as the spooked mare bolted.

“Hold on!” Asher kicked Bruno’s side and set out in pursuit.

It was a miracle she hadn’t been thrown. Somehow, she’d had the presence of mind to grab hold of the carriage frame, but if she lost her grip or the cart hit another rough patch, she’d be bucked out at a speed that could prove deadly.

12

Samantha clung to the shelfed edge of the cart that extended over the left wheel, desperate to keep from being thrown from the conveyance. Drawing her knees to her chest to prevent her dangling feet from dragging on the road, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for Dolly to stop.

Every bump in the road magnified a hundred times as the quaking of the carriage coursed through Samantha’s limbs, threatening to shake her loose. She clamped her rattling teeth together and strained to maintain her grip.

The wheel hit something in the road, hurtling the cart into the air. Samantha felt her body lift away from the bench. She clenched already tight fingers even harder against the far too flimsy armrest. Her stomach lurched. Her legs flung outward. Visions of Clint and her father flashed through her mind. She didn’t want to leave them.

The cart crashed back down to earth, and the impact broke the grip of her right hand. A scream tore from her throat as she skated down the slanted bench toward the road. Her left arm twisted awkwardly as her body slid, those fingers her only remaining tether. Eyes flying open, Samantha scrabbled for something else to grasp.

A voice ordered her to hold on. Deep. Commanding. Close.

Asher.

He leaned low in the saddle, drawing alongside. His eyes met hers for a fraction of an instant as he raced past, but determination and conviction radiated from him to her in such an overpowering wave that pain and panic receded.

The dash rail! An image of the thin brass rail atop the front of the driver’s box, where Clint liked to prop his boots when they rode together, crystalized in Samantha’s mind. Grunting against the wrenching ache in her left shoulder, she twisted and flung herself to the right. Another small bump in the road aided her momentum. Her hand banged against the dash. She grabbled for purchase, but the jostling of the broken cart made it nearly impossible to lock onto her target.

Her left arm weakened. Her right floundered. As did her hope.

Samantha set her jaw as words she once thought of as harsh echoed through her mind in her father’s firm voice. “When life’s hard, you gotta be harder. Dearings don’t quit.” So she tried again. And again. Until her fingers finally closed around the rail.

Belly flat against the driver’s bench, face mashed between her left arm and the unforgiving wooden shelf that was keeping her alive, she closed her eyes and focused on nothing more than holding on as her heart prayed a single word. Please.

Every rattle loosened her grip a little more.

Please.

Her handhold became a fingerhold.

Please.

Then a man’s shout echoed above pounding hooves. “Whoa, Dolly! Whoa!”

Her heart leapt, and her fingertips tightened. Asher had made it. He’d reached the mare’s head. He’d get Dolly to stop. He would. Samantha just had to hold on a few more seconds.

Dearings don’t quit. Dearings don’t quit.

She chanted the words to herself over and over as the cart slowed. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she let herself believe that she wasn’t going to die.

When the vehicle dragged to a stop, she continued to cling to its frame, her arms and legs shaking. She knew she should let go. Crawl away from the cart. Put space between herself and the danger in case Dolly took off again. But she couldn’t move. She could only cling.

“Miss Dearing? Are you all right?”

She tried to answer, but her vocal cords seemed as incapable of movement as the rest of her. The tiniest mewl was all she managed to push past her lips.

Boots thudded against earth. “Samantha?”

Large hands cupped her shoulders, their warmth seeping into her frozen bones and starting a thaw.

“You can let go now.”