In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)

Daniel shrugged. “Go back and try tofindan inn or some kind of shelter until the water goes down.”


It took long weary minutes to back up the wagon and turn it around. The horse clearly thought little of Daniel’s horsemanship and eyed him with disdain out of the comer of its eye. In the end I had to jump down, take the bridle and sooth the animal into backing up. I had just got the wagon turned around and was attemptingtoclimb back aboard when there was a brI'lliant flash of lightning right overhead, accompanied almost simultaneously by a mighty crash of thunder. The horse neighed and took off at a full gallop. I was thrown down from the buggy and landed in the mud. By thetimeI had picked myself up, they were out of sight.

I ran in the direction they had disappeared, but I had little hope of catching a galloping horse, especially as my skirts became sodden and weighted with mud. I was soon soaked through, shivering, and feeling very sorry for myself. Darkness had now fallen and there was no sign of any light indicating a place where I might take shelter. I slithered and trudged along the muddy track until I could make out a shape lying to one side. I made my way toward it and found Daniel lying there, unconscious.

“Daniel, are you all right?” I knelt beside him and cradled his head in my arms. He felt cold.

“Daniel. Speak to me, please!”

He still didn't move.

I fought to remain calm. “Daniel. It’s Molly. Wake up, please.”

I put my cheek to his mouth but was able to detect no warm breath on those cold lips.

“Please don't die,” I begged. “You can't die. I won't let you. Please.”

I sat there while the rain beat down on us. I tried to shield him with my body, but it was hopeless. Tears streamed down my face and mingled with theraindrops.I had neverfeltmore lost and alone in my life. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to leave him to go for help. I didn't know where to go. Then lightning flashed again and it occurred to me that I was likely to be struck if I stayed where I was. I wasn't doing Daniel any good sitting here crying. I dragged him to the side of the road and laid him under some bushes. “You'll be safe here until I come back,” I whispered. “I don't want to leave you, but I have to. I'm going to get help, Daniel.”

But I felt as if I was talking to a rock. I started to walk away. At the nextflashof lightning, I looked back. He hadn't stirred. I kept walking. Then there was a great gust of wind followed by a moment’s silence, during which I heard quite clearly, “Why am I having a cold bath?”

“Daniel!” I ran back to him.

He was sitting up holding his head. “My head hurts,” he muttered. “What am I doing here?”

“The horse bolted. You must have been thrown out and hit your head.”

“I couldn't have been thrown. Not an experienced horseman like me. It must have been a branch that knocked me down.”

The old cocky Daniel. I threw my arms around him. “Saints be praised, you're all right.”

“Of course I'm all right. What happened to the horse?”

“Long gone,” I said. “And we're in the middle of nowhere.”

“You'd better help me up,” he said and staggered to his feet, letting out a yell of pain.

“Go carefully now. Is anything broken?”

“My legs seem to be okay,” he said, “but you yanked me straight into some thorns.” A swift thought crossed my mind that men are much better in theory than in reality!

We staggered together along the track, hoping that the horse had recovered from its fright and was standing waiting for us. No such luck. It was the most gloomy and desolate side road that I had ever seen. The half darkness had now turned to absolute blackness and we stumbled over rocks and stepped into deep puddles.

“This is madness,” Daniel said at last. “We needtofindshelter.”

“Show me a light and I'll take you to shelter,” I snapped, my sweet nature wearingremarkablythin at this point.

As if in answer, aflashof lightning I'lluminated a structure in a field to our left. We managed to climb over the wall and stumbled over tussocks of grass until wereachedit. To our disappointment it wasn't a house but a disused bam, half tumbledown by the looks of the lumber that lay around it. We got in easily enough and found a dry corner at the back where some hay was still stacked

“At least there isn't a hull in it,” I said, and started to laugh.

He went to put his arm around me, then grunted in pain.

“What is it?”

“My shoulder. Ahhgh. I've definitely done something to it. What I need now is a good shot of whiskey to take away the pain. You wouldn't like to run to the nearest saloonforme, would you?”

“Fat chance,” I said. “My devotion only goes so far. And if I found a saloon, you don't think I'd be coming back, do you?”

I helped him off with his jacket, with many groans and protests, and eased him onto the bales of hay.