Page 99 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
His panic edged down a notch, and he started checking for injuries, for broken bones or twisted limbs. After carefully shifting her to lie on her back, he tested each leg and arm, relieved to find all unbroken. He spread his hands over her rib cage and gently assessed, but could find no hint of broken ribs, and her breathing, now he was focusing on it, was even and unhindered.
She might not be badly injured.
His heart was slowing to a more normal pounding. Her riding hat would have helped cushion her head. Infinitely gently, he shifted her again and started on the slow process of checking her spine, from her nape to her hips. Nothing seemed out of place.
The relief that hit him was immense. With the tips of his fingers, he traced the line of her jaw, shaken anew by the tumult of emotions roiling through him. He drew back his hand and rocked onto his haunches. For a moment, he simply let his eyes roam over her, reassuring that deeply shaken part of him that she was, it seemed, merely knocked senseless.
Not seriously injured.
That conclusion brought him back to the here and now.
He glanced around, confirming that the last of the light was rapidly fading. He pushed upright and looked in the direction of the church. He could make out the spire, outlined against the sky, but little else.
Cupping his hands about his mouth, he yelled, “To me! Here!”
He waited, but heard no cry in response. He hadn’t really expected one; the others should all be back at the church by now.
A horsey harrumph had him turning to see the huge stallion—whom he’d completely forgotten about—gently nudging Adriana with his nose.
Nicholas studied the horse. He could carry Adriana and, simultaneously, lead the beast back to the church, but that would take a very long time, especially in the deepening dark.
Would The Barbarian consent to carry him while he carried Adriana?
He was accustomed to riding highly strung Thoroughbreds. He knew that if The Barbarian obliged, he could rely on the horse to pick his way safely across the fields.
That was more than he trusted himself to do while carrying Adriana on foot.
“What have I to lose?” he murmured.
When the big horse raised his head and, across Adriana’s still form, looked at him as if asking what he was going to do, Nicholas grasped the nettle. He walked to where the leading rein lay in the coarse grass, bent, and picked up the strap.
“We need to get her back to the church. To the curricle. She can’t ride you at the moment, but I can, and I can hold her on your back. Not the same as her riding you, and there will be no galloping—not yet—but she needs help, your help, now.”
While he’d talked, keeping his tone even, he’d gathered the long rein and slowly walked closer. He halted beside the massive horse. The Barbarian had raised his head, watching him. Nicholas met the horse’s eye. “If you’re willing to help, you’ll need to allow me on your back.”
He’d never been certain how much the more intelligent horses understood, but from what he’d seen and heard of the big bay stallion, he was willing to wager that The Barbarian grasped at least something of what he was endeavoring to convey.
“First,” he went on, “we need to find some way for me to get astride while carrying her in my arms.”
He scanned the wall and focused on the corner where the gatepost met the side wall. The wall was built of stacked stones, with obvious gaps between. “That might be a possibility.” He looked at The Barbarian. “Shall we see?”
After several seconds assessing the logistics, he bent and eased Adriana into his arms. He stood and hefted her into a more secure hold, and the horse nudged her face with his nose.
“Yes, well,” Nicholas said. “Let’s see how far your affection takes us.”
With the horse following tamely enough, Nicholas walked to the corner of the field. It took a little maneuvering, but by using the rails of the gate as well as the gaps between the stones in the wall, he managed to climb to the top of the wall with Adriana still in his arms.
Finally, he stood on the wall and looked toward the church, but although he thought he saw movement in the churchyard, he couldn’t distinguish individual people, and there was no one crossing the fields toward them.
Resigned, he studied The Barbarian. The top of the wall placed Nicholas at a reasonable height to be able to mount the beast while holding Adriana. He met the horse’s eye. “Are you going to cooperate?”
The horse whinnied and waggled his great head.
Nicholas inwardly sighed and tugged on the rein.
After several adjustments, The Barbarian stood aligned beside the wall.
“All right, then. Let’s see.” Nicholas held his breath and, balancing on one bent leg with Adriana clasped awkwardly against his chest, swung his other leg over The Barbarian’s back and, all in one motion, lowered, then half fell, onto the stallion’s broad back.
