Free Falling in Love Again by Cathy Maxwell Page B

and excitement!
    He felt alive again.
    He took two more turns down winding side roads before he was convinced he had an excellent lead over the Runners. He had to get rid ofthe coach. Both animals were spent, their muscles quivering. Hadley would have his head for using his cattle in such a manner, but there wasn’t a moment to waste. The Runners might call out the Horse Patrol.
    And he had to check on his wife. He hadn’t heard a sound from her since that last scream.
    Bringing her along had not been one of his more sane impulses.
    John reined the horses to a halt, slid to the ground, and hurried back to the coach, only to stop dead in his tracks. One of the coach lamps had been knocked off in the chase, but the remaining one lit the interior.
    His wife sat on the coach seat as regal as a princess waiting for her Sunday ride—although her hair looked as if it had been captured in a windstorm.
    She faced him as he yanked open the door, her eyes flashing with fiery indignation. The only signs of her fear were the white knuckles on the hand still gripping the passenger strap and the steel in her voice as she said, “Are you quite done?”
    John almost grinned at her, but caught himself in time. “I don’t know if we’re still being chased by the Runners or if we are safe. It all depends on how tenacious they are. You may stay here or come with me.”
    â€œWhat is the advantage of staying here?”
    â€œYou can tell them what a blackguard I am.”
    â€œIt’s tempting.”
    Her response earned a short laugh from him.His child-bride was growing more entertaining by the moment. “I wouldn’t advise it.”
    She nodded her head. “I’d probably be locked up for your debts.”
    â€œOnce they know you are my wife,” he agreed amicably.
    â€œI don’t think I like you.” She said each word clearly and separately.
    â€œYou’re in good company.” Struck by a new thought, he added, “But then, you’re the one who came looking for me.” Sparks shot from her eyes at that statement, but now was not the time to match verbal swords, no matter how much he enjoyed the challenge. He held out his hand. “Come, we must hurry.”
    Mallory didn’t release her hold on the strap. “Why? Don’t you believe we have escaped them?”
    â€œNot if they’ve been hired to catch me.”
    â€œSomeone would pay them to hunt you down?”
    Just then, a man shouted, “Here they are! I’ve spotted them.”
    Mallory had barely let go of the hand strap before John grabbed her arm and practically dragged her out of the coach. “Run, Mallory, run,” he said, helping her gain her balance while still moving.
    â€œWhat about the coach?”
    â€œHadley will be disappointed in its condition when it’s returned,” he answered, then shouted at the horses.
    The already frenzied animals bolted, chargingdown the street into the night, pulling the coach behind them. John joined Mallory. “Run!”
    A group of mounted riders charged around the corner up the street. John pushed Mallory toward an alley. She ran. Behind her she heard the riders give chase to the runaway coach.
    The alley opened onto another street. John didn’t let them slow their pace, but led her down another side street and then another and another until she had no idea where they were.
    With each corner they turned, the streets became darker and seedier. He shoved past pedestrians, drunks, and sailors, heedless of the curses and shouts thrown at them. A stitch needled her side. Her breathing grew labored and painful in her chest. Oblivious to all, John took them deeper and deeper into a part of the city that was strange and foreign to her country eyes.
    At last, just when she thought her lungs would burst, he pulled her down another side alley and stopped.
    Mallory jerked her arm free even as he let go, and placing her hands on her