Her Dearest Enemy. Elizabeth Lane
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she deserves—a place in society and marriage to a respected man who’ll provide well for her and her future children. If she keeps the baby, it’s all over for her. She’ll be branded a fallen woman, an outcast for the rest of her life.”
“Not if she marries her child’s father,” Harriet responded with sudden conviction. “Lord knows, I’ve had dreams for Will, too, and I’m no happier about this mess than you are. But we have to do what’s right for the baby!”
“My sister will see that the baby goes to a good home,” Brandon snapped. “Now put it to rest. You’re only making things harder.”
“That’s because you know I’m right! But you’ll never admit that, will you, Mr. Calhoun? You’ve too much stubborn pride to see anyone’s point of view except your own!” Harriet was trembling now, her plan of a calm reasonable approach shattered. “Those two poor, foolish children ran off in the night because neither of us was willing to listen to them! Neither of us could face the fact that Will and Jenny are the only ones who have the right to decide their future and their baby’s future! We drove them to this desperate act, and if something terrible happens tonight, I’ll never forgive myself—or you!”
You…you…you. Harriet’s last word echoed off the rocky ledges as Brandon glared at her through the falling snow. The landau was inching along the narrowest part of the road now. Its outer wheels crunched through the soft snow along its edge, sending small showers of gravel rattling down into the creek. A horse snorted nervously in the darkness.
“Who made you an expert on life, Miss Smith?” Brandon’s voice was as brittle as thin ice. “Lord, do you even understand what your brother had to do to my poor, innocent little girl to get her with child?”
Harriet’s face blazed. “I won’t even dignify that question with an answer,” she snapped.
“For that alone, I could rip him to pieces with my bare hands. But no, I’m a civilized man. If my so- called heartless plan is carried out, he’ll be as free as a bird! He can go on with his education, and his life, as if nothing had happened! Isn’t that what you told me you wanted?”
“Yes.” Harriet stared straight ahead into the swirling snow. “I just don’t know if… Look out!”
The huge, tawny cat shape that flashed across the road and bounded into the rocks was gone in the blink of an eye. But that brief glimpse was enough to send the horses into a rearing, plunging frenzy of terror.
“Whoa…easy there…” Brandon pulled steadily on the reins and spoke with masterful calm, but it was too late. The landau had already lurched to the right and was tilting perilously over the creek bed. Gravel clattered down the slope as the wheels bit into the crumbling bank.
“Get to the left and lean out!” Brandon shouted at Harriet. “If she starts to fall, jump!”
Harriet did not need to be told a second time. She flung herself to the left side of the buggy, pushing behind Brandon to add her weight above the two stable wheels. But even when she leaned outward, as far over the side as she dared, it was not enough. With the horses bucking and the bank caving in, the heavy landau was canting farther and farther toward the creek.
“Hang on!” Brandon slapped the reins down with all his strength, using them as whips in a desperate effort to get the horses moving forward. But even as the sturdy bays pushed into their collars, the edge of the road caved in and the carriage tumbled sideways, toward the rushing water.
“Jump!” Brandon yelled. “Damn it, jump!”
Harriet clambered over the left side of the carriage. She caught a glimpse of Brandon still struggling with the reins as she gathered her strength and flung herself into the darkness.
The scream of horses filled her ears as she hit the road with a force that knocked the wind out of her. For a terrifying moment she lay still on the snowy ground, listening to the sound of splintering wood and the crash of the landau falling into the river.
Brandon! Her mind shrilled his name but she could not breathe deeply enough to shout. As she crawled toward the road’s caved-in edge, she could hear the horses screaming and thrashing.
She was all right, Harriet realized as each of her limbs responded to her will. The snow on the road and the thickness of Brandon’s coat had combined to cushion her landing. But where was Brandon? Had he gone into the water? Her gaze darted up and down the road. She could see no sign of him in either direction. That could only mean one thing.
Growing more and more frantic, she clambered shakily to her knees and stared down the slope. Through a swirling veil of snowflakes, she could see the broken, overturned landau, lying wheels-up in the creek. One horse was on its feet. The other lay on its side, its head raised above water. She could not see Brandon at all.
Sliding on snow and gravel, she skidded down to the water’s edge. The creek was not deep, but an unconscious man with his face under water could drown in no time. If she didn’t hurry, Brandon could be dead by the time she got to him.
“Brandon!” She found her voice. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” His voice came from somewhere under the chassis, muffled by the sound of the creek. “Don’t worry about me. See to the horses.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, damn it! Just something on my leg.” He seemed to be biting back pain. “You’ve got to take care of the horses! There’s a pocketknife in that coat you’re wearing. Use it to cut them loose. Can you do that?”
“I’ll try.” Harriet found the knife in one of the pockets and managed to get it open.
“Listen to me.” Brandon’s voice sounded fainter than before. “I just honed that blade last week, so it should be sharp enough to slice through the leathers. From what I can see, Captain looks all right. Cut him loose first and get him out of the way. Then you can go to work on Duchess. If she can’t get up, I’ll hand you the gun and you’ll have to shoot her. Do you understand?”
Harriet stared at the downed animal, her heart plummeting. If the horse couldn’t get out of the water, it would drown or freeze. Better to put it out of its misery, she knew. Still…
“Harriet?”
“Yes, I understand,” she said. “Hold on. I’ll do everything I can.”
Gathering her courage, she waded into the water and hacked at the twisted lines that fastened the standing horse to the landau. Seconds crawled by at the pace of hours as she sliced into the tough leather, but at last the big gelding was free. It snorted, shook its wet coat and lurched up the bank, onto the road.
The mare had been twisted onto her side by the momentum of the overturning buggy. Only the angle of her straining neck kept her head out of the water, and she was weakening fast. Clearly terrified, she laid back her ears and rolled her eyes as Harriet approached. “Easy, girl…easy, there,” she murmured, praying with all her heart that she wouldn’t have to shoot the poor animal.
This time the cutting was even more difficult. The leathers were twisted and soaked with water, and the icy cold numbed Harriet’s hands, making them slow and clumsy.
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