Patricia Rice by Moonlight an Memories

shouting, but she couldn't hear the words. Tightening her lips and pulling her shawl closer, she grimly continued her pilgrimage through the thick grass. Did he think she was fool enough to turn around and go back now? The sight of the whip he suddenly brandished caused her to hesitate, however. She had known he was a violent man, but had he taken leave of his senses?
    The whine of the whip froze Eavin where Nicholas's shouts hadn't. She could see him more clearly now and remembered the dangerous narrowing of amber eyes full well. Although garbed in the long frock coat of a gentleman, he displayed the raw masculinity of a riverboat man as he urged his huge mount into a gallop directly toward her. She could see the fallen shock of wheat-colored hair against the weathered darkness of his brow and the angry lines cutting into his jaw as he clenched his teeth, and she had the sudden desire to turn and run, but something in his fury froze her in place.
    The whip struck again, and the grass not inches from Eavin's feet rippled. Too startled to scream, Eavin glanced up to find herself looking down the barrel of his pistol. The weapon exploded before she had time to register its direction.
    A frantic bellow split the air and the grass thrashed and writhed in front of her. Her hand flew from her shawl to her mouth as blood erupted from an enormous beast not inches away, splattering her new gown. Eavin battled to remain upright. Her breath locked in her throat and her head spun.  
    Nicholas was upon her in seconds, dragging her back, cursing in more languages than Eavin knew existed. Her horrified gaze followed the dying struggles of a monster. When she finally focused on the viscera pouring from the gaping hole in the animal's hide, Eavin turned abruptly in Nicholas's arms, leaned over the cane-stubbled field, and heaved the contents of her breakfast upon the mud.
    " Mon dieu , I'll have someone keelhauled for this. Have you not a lick of sense in your silly head? What in the name of the Holy Mother of God possessed you to come out here?" Another string of curses followed as Nicholas discovered her mud-caked shoes and castigated her for her lack of boots as well as sense.
    Grabbing his offered handkerchief, Eavin tried to jerk away, but at this demonstration of her ability to stand on her own, Nicholas dragged her toward his horse.
    "Did no one tell you this land crawls with 'gators and snakes and spiders as big as your hand? Did you not believe them? Or did you think you could walk on water like the saints? What..." His string of adjectives were almost entirely French, and Eavin made no attempt to translate them. "...bastard told you where I was?"
    Nicholas seemed to be waiting for some response to this furious jumble of words, but Eavin was more concerned with the huge animal before her. She had never sat on a horse before. The animal turned his head and flared his nostrils in certain disapproval, and Eavin stepped backward, directly into Nicholas.
    Without waiting for permission, he caught her waist and flung her upward, holding her in the saddle while Eavin grabbed for any support she could find. His sharp curse stopped the stallion from sidling away, and taking the reins, he held the horse while she clenched the pommel for dear life.
    "Nicholas, I can't ride." Eavin's teeth chattered with cold and fear as she saw the distance to the ground.
    "That is evident." With a look of disgust Nicholas brought the reins over the horse's head and began to lead it. "Just hang on, unless you want me to join you."
    Impossibly, Eavin did want him to join her. She would feel a good deal more secure if there was another human body up in the air with her. But she was seated on the saddle sideways, and she didn't see how it would be humanly possible for him to fit anywhere.
    It was better if she closed her eyes. Sighing, Eavin felt the sway of the horse and heard Nicholas's mutters and began to gather her shattered senses again. "What was that