Page 91 of Conveniently Wed
“Emma!” she barely breathed the name, and was relieved to the point of tears when her sister appeared at her elbow.
They clambered out of the wagon as silently as they could. Two dark forms, larger than men, moved in the grass nearby. The horses, unhitched from the wagon and ground-tied.
“Let’s ride out,” she whispered to Emma.
“But—”
“It’ll be quicker.”
“But there aren’t any saddles. And the horses are huge.”
She was right on both counts, but the increasing urgency Fran felt had her tugging her sister toward the animals.
There was a rustling behind them, close to the wagon. Fran’s heart pounded in her ears, drowning out their footsteps, making her strain to hear.
If it was one of Edgar’s brothers or one of the cowboys, why hadn’t they called out? Surely they would know she and Emma were frightened and seek to reassure them.
The only answer was that it wasn’t one of Edgar’s men. It had to be one of Underhill’s.
Fran pulled Emma to the nearest horse. She reached out to touch the animal’s shoulder and it neighed softly. She didn’t dare whisper a greeting to the horse.
It took one step away from Fran.
Edgar had told her the animal could sense fear. No doubt it was picking up the chills that were running through her that very moment.
But they didn’t have time for her to comfort the animal.
Fran made a cradle out of her hands to boost Emma onto the animal’s back.
“Fran!” Emma squeaked.
“Ssh!” she hissed.
The trousers made it easy for Emma to straddle the animal’s wide back, but Fran knew well how awkward it felt.
She curled her sister’s hands around the horse’s mane, barely able to reach.
“Hold on tight,” she breathed.
“They ain’t here,” a man’s voice said quietly.
Fran scrambled to where the horse was tied. Her hands shook so badly that she couldn’t get a good grip on the leather ties. And in the darkness, she couldn’t see what she was doing.
“Please, God,” she whispered the fervent prayer, unable to find words but hopeful that He understood her urgency, her fear for Emma.
If Underhill took her, Fran could lose Emma forever.
The ties loosened, and Fran flipped the leather reins over the horse’s back.
“Fran!” Emma cried softly.
“They’ve got to be here somewhere.” That was another growly male voice, not one Fran recognized.
The grass rustled, getting closer. She was out of time to spirit Emma away.
“You’ve got to go,” she told her sister.
“Not without you.”
