He steered the horse toward the edge. Gingerbread hesitated only a moment, then stepped off. Immediately his hooves began to slide. Had Gabe made a mistake? Gabe and Sophie leaned to the left as the horse’s body leaned precariously to the right. All four of his hooves were sliding down the steep, leaf-covered embankment. The horse began to fight for footing. Gabe let go of the reins and wrapped both his arms around Sophie as the horse began to topple over.
Gabe yanked his right leg up and pulled Sophie with him to the left, barely escaping being pinned underneath the huge horse. Gabe’s feet hit the ground, almost gently, as the horse came out from under him and slid helplessly down the steep bank, struggling to get to his feet all the while.
Gabe set Sophie on her feet, not aware that he had been holding her completely off the ground until that moment. She clung to his neck, her eyes wide. Then Gabe grabbed her hand and they headed down into the deep ravine, into darkness, after his tumbling horse.
Sophie held tight to Gabe’s hand as they hurried down the steep hill, their feet slipping and sliding. Sophie fell to one hip but jumped back to her feet, following Gabe down into the dark ravine.
God, please help us escape. She knew Gabe was hoping their attacker wouldn’t realize they’d come down this way, and it did seem like a good place to hide. But it also seemed a likely place for a bear’s den or a wolf’s lair. Only God knew what they would find at the bottom.
Below them, Gabe’s horse was finally able to halt his fall and scramble to his feet. He stood shaking his big head, his mane flopping around his massive neck. Gabe pulled Sophie down the hill and around the other side of the horse, putting the animal’s body between them and the top of the ravine and their would-be killer. Then he let go of her hand and smoothly pulled his crossbow over his shoulder. He yanked out the arrow that was stuck in the wood stock and threw it to the ground. Then he opened the pack that was strapped to the back of the horse’s saddle, which had miraculously not been lost in the fall, and slipped out an arrow. He stepped on the drawstring of the bow and fitted the arrow into place. Lifting the crossbow to his shoulder, and using the horse as a shield, he peered over the horse’s back and up to the top of the ravine.
Sophie looked up, but they had gone so far down, she couldn’t quite make it out in the descending darkness of twilight.
Something tickled her arm. She looked down and realized it was a trickle of blood running down and dripping off her elbow. She would examine the wound later.
Gabe was staring up, an intent look on his face, as he kept his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. Sophie knew, if ever there were a time to pray, it was now. God, please let the man — or men — pass us by. Help us stay hidden.
Gabe rested the crossbow on the horse’s back while he waited. Sophie held her breath. Then she heard the sound of horse’s hooves on leaves and sticks, the rustle of branches. It came closer, sounding as if it were just above them, just out of her vision. Then she saw movement, at the top of the ravine, though it was too dark to tell who or what caused it. Gabe held the crossbow up and stared down the stock of the partly wood-partly metal contraption. A deadly looking metal projectile was ready to fire at their enemy.
Gabe’s horse sidestepped nervously, so Sophie rubbed his neck and softly hummed. She didn’t dare speak aloud.
Gradually, the noise of what she assumed was a horse and rider became fainter and fainter. He hadn’t seen them in the ravine. They were safe — at least for the moment.
Gabe eased the crossbow away from his shoulder, turned, and looked at Sophie. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Let me see your arm.” He set the crossbow down on the ground. With one step, he closed the gap between them and took her arm in his hands.
“We need to find water.”
“Water?”
He nodded. “Gingerbread needs water, and this wound needs to be washed and covered.”
He held her arm close to his face, examining it, but it was so covered in blood, and the ravine was so dark, she doubted he could see the actual wound. He pulled a knife from his belt, which he had retrieved earlier from his saddlebag, and cut off her sleeve where it had been torn by the arrow, at her elbow. Then, with a grim look, he wrapped the scrap of sleeve tightly around her bloody forearm. It had hurt before, but now it throbbed.
She thought it strange that he was concerned about washing the wound, but she didn’t ask him about it.
“We need to go,” he said brusquely, seeming somehow older than he had when she met him yesterday, and certainly more grim. He went to place his hands on her waist to lift her up, but she stepped back, bumping into the horse.
“Wait. First I need to …”
They had drunk the last of the water in Gabe’s flask an hour or two before, and now she needed some privacy for a few moments.
Understanding dawned on his face. He simply nodded and pointed to the nearest tree. “I won’t look.” He turned his back to her.