Page 128 of Trust In Love (Love Mark 2)

“Yes, Indigo,” I called smugly. “Listen to your princess.”

“But it’s—my God.” He picked up a piece of fruit and gaped at it as he climbed aboard. “Are these grumpackers? They grow in Far Shore, too? I thought only Donnelly grew grumpackers.”

“Or maybe High Cliff’s the only oddity that doesn’t harvest them,” Farrow countered before telling me, “We’re in, my lady. Go!”

“Hee-yah,” I yelled, snapping the reins with all I had.

The horse shot forward with such force that it nearly yanked my arms from their sockets. The seat on which I sat drunkenly tipped sideways to the right, then the left, before settling down and merely hopping up off the ground with every bump and rock we met.

Behind me, Indigo swore fluidly. And in front of me, a line of soldiers dove out of the way to keep from getting trampled. Townspeople screamed and scattered to avoid us. And suddenly, my path cleared nicely.

“They’ve released riders,” Farrow bellowed in warning. “And they’re gaining on us.”

I sighed, sarcastically grumbling, “Of course they’re gaining.” Our one horse was carrying a rider and cart full of men and grumpacker fruit. A child running barefoot could overtake us at this rate.

“Can you stave them off?” I asked, lifting my voice over the wind and roar of the bumping, rolling wheels so they could hear me.

“With what?” Indigo shrieked incredulously. “Oh! Good idea.”

I checked over my shoulder, only to catch sight of Farrow winding back his arm and chucking a grumpacker at one rider who was closing in. When he beaned the man in the head, the rider cried out and flew off his horse backward from the impact.

Indigo piled his arms with fruit and followed suit. Together, the men took out two more knights.

I went back to watching the road. Reaching the edge of the city, we left people and buildings behind and charged headlong toward the Back Forest ahead. But not long after we entered a beaten trail through the trees, a fork in the lane ahead caused me to pale.

“Um, guys,” I yelled. “Which way? Left or right?”

“Right,” Farrow said, immediately followed by Indigo’s, “Left.”

I rolled my eyes. Men. “One or the other, please.” Because I couldn't go both ways.

“Go left,” Indigo argued desperately. “I know of a place we can hide.”

I threw him an incredulous glance over my shoulder. “You know someone in Far Shore?”

Indy sniffed. “He wasn’t born in Far Shore, that’s for damn sure.”

Right now, that was good enough for me. I wheeled the cart left. We tipped again, threatening to flip entirely. Both men behind me shouted curses this time. I straightened out the reins, the horse shot straight, wild with fear, and the cart landed heavily back on both wheels.

“Christ, Nic,” Indy balked. “You’re crazy.”

I gave a mad laugh, enjoying this more than I knew I should. “Just lose our tail, and I’ll worry about driving.”

“I have an idea,” I swear I heard Farrow say. “Hurry, help me release the latches holding the rear gate closed.”

“But then all the fruit will roll out,” Indigo argued.

“That’s the idea, mate. We’ll trip up the horses behind us and put them out of commission.”

“Has it occurred to you that if the fruit—that we’re currently sitting on—rolls out, we’ll go with it?”

“Not if we hold on to the sides of the cart real tight,” Farrow allowed.

“Holy shit, you’re as insane as she is,” Indigo wailed, but when I looked, I found he was helping Farrow unlatch the wooden boards at the back of the cart, regardless.

“Together,” Farrow roared, “on the count of three. One. Two. Three…”

The sudden loss of weight from the tumbling grumpackers helped the horse move faster, so radically faster, in fact, that it took me a moment of concentration, holding on to the jarring reins and steadying us through the increased speed before I could glance back and check on Farrow and Indy.

---