Read Unlaced by the Outlaw (Secrets in Silk) for Free Online

metal.
    It wasn’t enough.
    Frustration and fear consumed her as she leaned her body weight against the handle. Giving up wasn’t an option. The aching fear intensified as she twisted the wood, trying in vain to pull the door open. With every second that passed, her fears taunted her.
    You’re too weak. He lifted this coach to save you, and you’re not strong enough to help him.
    No. She couldn’t give up so soon. Somehow, she had to get this door open, no matter how much it hurt.
    Her arms ached as she bent her knees and pulled with all her strength. Cain rammed his shoulder against the door once again, and the sudden momentum sent her flying backward. She tried to grab something to catch herself from falling, but she hit the ground hard, her head striking the grass. The coach door swung open, and Cain hoisted himself up. Dizziness made her vision swim, and Margaret couldn’t understand the words he was shouting at her.
    She blacked out for a few moments, and when she regained consciousness, she saw that Cain’s clothing had caught fire. His own roar of pain mingled with her scream, but he dropped to the ground and rolled. Within moments, it was out.
    He was curled up on his side, trembling, while his clothes were blackened and burned.
    “W-we have to get out of here,” she stammered, but he wasn’t moving. Oh dear God. He had to get up. Why was he still lying there?
    Her head was pounding as she got to her hands and knees, moving toward him. The scent of burned flesh was enough to make her stomach twist. It had happened all too fast. She couldn’t understand how it was possible.
    “Are you all right?” she asked him. But although his shoulders revealed that he was indeed breathing, his eyes were tightly closed, as if he were holding back the agony. Blood soaked the back of his head—he must have struck it when he hit the ground.
    “Can you get up?” she asked him, but he gave no answer.
    The shaking came over her then, with the terror of being alone. She had to find a doctor, to get help for Cain . . . but they were stranded in the middle of nowhere. His earlier claim, that there was nothing along these roads, had proven to be correct.
    A faint lavender and rose color edged the horizon, revealing the coming dawn. Her first instinct was to sit down and weep, but she knew it would do no good. And if she left him here to seek help, he might die in the meantime. Her hands were trembling, but she reached out to touch him. Beneath the shirt, his skin was angry red and blistered, blood covering his back.
    “You must get up, Mr. Sinclair,” she told him. “We can’t stay here.” She reached beneath his arms and tried to pull him. The moment she touched him, he let out an unholy shout of pain. She dropped Sinclair immediately, realizing that he was worse off than she’d imagined.
    Think, Margaret, her brain urged. He needed someone to help with his injuries. But how could she move him? She stared out into the darkness where one of the horses was standing back from the fires. Though she needed two, with Cain wounded, she could only handle one.
    She knew next to nothing about animals, but if she could get him on the mare, it was their best hope. Slowly, she rose to her feet, and when she tried to take a deep breath, she coughed against the smoke.
    Her composure was hanging by a single thread, and she was afraid if she allowed one teardrop to fall, she would become a sobbing mess. She walked slowly toward the horse, hoping the animal would not rear up or panic. The mare let out a whinny, moving away as she approached.
    “Hush now,” Margaret murmured. “I’m going to need your help. And if you do as I ask, I’ll try to find carrots or an apple for you.”
    Although the animal couldn’t understand a word of her conversation, it was the best she could do. She moved sideways, trying to reach the reins. The leather was burned, and there was no saddle, since the mare had been harnessed to the coach. Thankfully