Page 46 of Calling on the Matchmaker
At a carriage hurtling past them, Riley’s attention shifted. And in the next moment, he released her and was chasing after the vehicle. He leapt through the mud as if it was solid ground, his feet pounding hard and his arms straining to latch on to the carriage.
A young lady inside was banging against the door, her expression filled with horror as she stared down the street behind her.
Finola followed her gaze to a man rubbing his hatless head and sitting in the mud as vehicles passed him by. The coachman had fallen off, perhaps after bumping over one of the large holes in the street. Now the carriage with its occupant was racing away, the horses apparently having been spooked by the incident.
Riley ran faster, sidestepped as a wagon nearly hit him, and then launched himself forward.
“Holy mother, have mercy.” Finola could only hold her breath as Riley fumbled for a handhold. When he grasped arailing more firmly and found a spot for his foot, she allowed herself one shaky breath before she held it again.
As the carriage rolled down the street ever faster, it jostled over more holes, throwing Riley hard against the door. But even as he watched the horses and the road ahead, he climbed steadily to the bench. Just as the team careened he lunged for the reins.
With half his body now hanging off the seat and the carriage wheels rising off the ground on one side, Finola released a cry of alarm. If the vehicle tipped over, he’d be crushed and badly hurt, if not killed.
Regardless of the imminent danger, Riley wrapped the reins around his gloved hands and called out commands to the horses. In the next instant, the wheels slammed back to the ground, rocking the carriage and jolting Riley. He strained to hold on, finally drawing the horses to a halt.
People had poured from businesses and tenements. Some were leaning out of open windows. The traffic had come to a standstill—as it had the day Riley had rescued her. And as Riley hopped down, a chorus of cheering, whistling, and clapping greeted him.
He didn’t seem to notice, was too busy opening the door and checking on the occupant.
The woman, upon descending, threw her arms around Riley and then kissed him directly on the mouth.
The kiss didn’t last long, and Riley was already stepping away from the woman before she could do anything more. Even so, a strange indignance swelled within Finola. How dare that woman kiss Riley so freely? Surely she knew Riley was matched. Even if she didn’t, a kiss was much too brazen.
A moment later, the coachman, who was limp-running, reached the carriage. Riley questioned the driver before helping him up onto his seat and then assisting the lady back into the conveyance.
As the carriage continued on its way, much slower and more cautiously, Riley finally turned. His sights came to rest on Finola first. His brows were furrowed as his gaze took her in on the wagon bench where he’d left her.
Only then did she realize she was clutching her cloak with both fists and that her pulse was racing.
As he started down the street toward her, he accepted the well-wishes and back thumps from his many admirers. But he didn’t stop until he reached the wagon, his eyes dark with concern. “How are you getting on? You look pale.”
He was thinking about her well-being right at this moment?
She released a long, tight breath. “Aye, Riley Rafferty, why do you think I’m pale? You almost got yourself killed, and in the process nearly sent me to an early grave.”
He climbed up onto the bench. “Is that your way of letting me know you were worried about me?”
“As worried as every other man, woman, and child watching you.” Actually, she was petrified and could hardly move.
He gathered the reins and flicked them, nudging the roan mare forward.
She hadn’t yet released her grip on her cloak, and her heart hadn’t returned to its normal pace. She wasn’t sure it ever would.
“Just admit it, Finola. You were worried you’d lose me.” He tossed her an easy smile, one that made him far too handsome, even though he was splattered with mud.
Regardless of his physical appeal, he was too daring for a woman like her who wanted a simple, quiet life.
“You can say it.” His tone contained a playful arrogance, one she was beginning to like in spite of knowing she shouldn’t.
“Say what?”
“That you don’t want to lose me.”
During their time together today, she hadn’t thought once about how she could drive him away, and clearly he knew it. “You seemed to enjoy the kiss with the woman you just rescued.Maybe you’d like a match with her instead.” Actually, she hadn’t been able to tell if he liked it or not. Had he?
He stared straight ahead, but his grin widened. “You’re jealous.”
“Jealous?” She scoffed. “Why would I be jealous?”
