Page 15 of Hold Fast

She heard Ewan tying things, buckling something else. And then she felt the warm weight of her plaid tossed over her back, having fallen off. Likely when he tossed her onto the horse’s back without warning. She felt him reach a hand under her torso and bristled, but he was only gripping the pommel, his knuckles hard against her belly. And then he was behind her. She tensed again, the feeling of his hips against her backside too reminiscent of…

She vomited into the leaves at the horse’s feet so far below.

“God’s bones, Una,” he said, “Are you ill?”

But she couldn’t answer. She was made of terror, with this giant animal beneath her and this powerful man behind her. She shook uncontrollably. Would he shout at her now? Manhandle her upright and take off at a run? What if he—

But then she felt the gentle press of a hand between her shoulder blades, a palm rubbing wide circles across her back.

“I am sorry, Una,” he said quietly.

She froze. It was enough to drag her away from her terror. The gentle touch—when had Malcolm ever been gentle with her?—and the apology. Anearnest-sounding apology.

“Can you take a deep breath for me?”

She tried, her lungs shaking with the effort, but eventually, she felt them expand.

“Good. Verra good. Now another?”

She sniffled, her mouth tasting sour from her vomit, but she did as he asked, the breath coming more easily now.

“That’s the way. You are so brave, Una,” he said in that careful way. “Do you think you can sit up now?”

She shook her head quickly.

“Shhh,” he said. “You can. Take another deep breath, Una, and—”

“I’ll fall,” she sobbed.

“Nay,” he said insistently. “I willnae let ye fall. I willnae let anything happen to you.”

He couldn’t make such a promise. Not lettinganythinghappen to her? When so much hadalreadyhappened to her? But she found that she believed him, believed that this man would, at the very least, try.

And for that reason alone, she found herself pushing her hands against the pommel, allowing him to draw her up with strong hands. She didn’t open her eyes, not yet, but she was grateful that he let her sit, let her get used to the way the horse shifted from one side to the other as he stood, patiently waiting.

The horse hadn’t flinched when she’d screamed. Hadn’t bolted when she’d yanked on his mane. Hadn’t done anything more than twitch when she’d vomited at his feet. If anything, he’d stood deliberately still, allowing her to calm down before resuming his side-to-side shifting.

“Good lad,” Ewan said to the horse, taking Una’s hand in his and placing it against the soft, gray neck, rubbing.

He removed his hand, and she continued to stroke the horse’s neck. She did not love the feeling of a man at her back, and she didn’t know if she would ever be ready to open her eyes and see how far from her feet the ground was, but she trusted, at the very least, that this horse would not hurt her.

She blinked back her tears, opening her eyes. The ground was indeedveryfar away, but if she looked out, not down, it didn’t seem quite as terrifying. Ewan’s front was pressed close against her back, but he wasn’t grabbing her or manhandling her. In fact, he seemed to be going out of his way to touch her as little as possible.

“Are you ready, Una?”

She knew he was impatient, likely frantic with worry about his brother. And she knew that every minute she spent panicking was one moment more than she’d have to make up for in saving his life. Because Ewan was right, with wounds, every moment counted. Yet she also had the impression that he would give her as long as she needed to be ready, that he could control his temper with the same deftness that he controlled this animal beneath them. She nodded.

“Hand me the reins, would you?” Ewan asked. Una lifted a hand off the pommel to grab the strips of leather draped over the horse’s neck and passed them to him. He took them, resting his closed fist against his thigh. His other hand hung at his side. Harmless.

Well, not harmless. But not harmfuleither. At least not now.

This horse and its owner would carry her away from her and then, with any luck, would also deliver her safely to her new life.

“Last chance, Una,” he said, and she couldn’t tell if she was referring to a last chance for panicking or a last chance for refusing to come with him at all. “Are you ready?”

The sun was in the middle of the sky now.Jesus, how much of the morning had she already wasted? She looked to the right and saw Greer standing next to the horse, unbothered and panting happily.

“Nay,” she answered. Because she wasn’t. “But we must go anyway.”