I mustered a tired smile. The adrenaline was leaving my body and taking my energy with it. Even so, we’d need to get back on the road. Despite that I wouldn’t want to live through the terrifying, precarious moments on that runaway buggy as I fought for my life, because of the experience, we now had a horse and a firearm. And being in possession of a gun—especially—was damn lucky because no one was going to be willingly parting with any right now.

chapter twenty-four

Emily

I was still attempting to come to terms with what we’d just experienced as we’d careened through a small town on runaway horses. And now Charlie and I were collapsed in the narrow compartment that featured one bench seat while Tuck assumed the reins.

Only a few days before, heck, maybe the day before, I’d have preferred it. Now I felt annoyed and antsy sitting in the buggy with Charlie when what I really wanted to do was climb onto the seat next to Tuck and talk about what had happened. Charlie seemed intent on telling the tale from his perspective again and again, droning on about how he thought he was going to die, his life flashing in front of him, all the good he’d done for the world, and the knowledge that if he died, he’d leave behind dozens of films and television cameos that would bring joy to the world for generations to come.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong. Art did bring joy, movies and television shows provided necessary distraction and comfort too. Families gathered to watch them, and positive messages were relayed through stories. I got all that, and maybe I’d have said something similar a few weeks before about what I hoped my legacy would be. But now? Now I was confused and off-kilter, all my priorities shifted and rearranged so that I didn’t remember exactly the order they’d been in and why. And Charlie… Charlie still seemed unfazed by the things he’d seen around him. If he loved stories so much, why was his the only one that seemed to move him?

There was something else floating around the corners of my mind, but I was too exhausted to delve into my vague thoughts and foggy feelings. And who even knew if all the stress hormones and surges of adrenaline that had released earlier had fried a few synapses.

But when Charlie fell asleep midsentence a few minutes later, I got up quietly and opened the small door with a nervous glance backward. When I saw that Charlie hadn’t moved, a snore rattling from his open mouth, I climbed around the slow-moving buggy and then plopped in the seat next to Tuck.

He looked over at me, his expression mildly surprised for a moment before he raised a brow. “I thought you’d prefer to be chauffeured.”