Summerset Abbey by T. J. Brown Page A

moment before he drifted off again. She wondered what she would do if no one came after them. Surely it wouldn’t do him any good to freeze here with him all night? If it started to rain, they would be in very real danger from the cold. She sat with him, feeling utterly helpless, for perhaps an hour or so—long enough that the thin autumn sun had dipped down over the horizon. She was just making up her mind to break her promise and go for help when she heard someone above them.
    “Hello?” a voice called. “Are you all right?”
    She stood, staggering a little from having been in one position for so long. “We’re down here! The pilot is unconscious.”
    A crashing of brambles, along with muttered curses, told her that someone was coming down the hill and none too gracefully. In a moment, one of the largest men she’d ever seen came crashing out of the woods. He wore a leather flight jacket and matching boots with laces. Under his cap, his hair shone a brilliant shade of red. The man’s eyes widened when he saw her,then he came and knelt beside her with effort. “Is the lad still alive?”
    His accent told her that he came from up north, maybe even Scotland. “Yes, but he’s been in and out of consciousness. I had no way of getting him up the hill, so I just stayed with him.”
    He put his hand on the pilot’s face and then on his forehead. “We shouldn’t move him. We have no way of knowing if his insides are hurt, but it won’t do him any good to leave him like this.”
    He frowned. “Was that your animal tied to the tree?”
    She nodded.
    “Do you think you can get him down here?”
    “I can try. He’s sure-footed, but the crash spooked him.”
    “If you can, we can toss him over the animal’s back and get him up to my motorcar.”
    She nodded and headed up the hill. The woods were darker now that the sun had almost set and it was rough going. Her horse was exactly as she left it, the sweat from their run dried along his neck and withers. He nickered when he saw her and she patted his nose. “There’ll be an extra ration for you tonight, boy.”
    She led him down carefully, but the horse was more surefooted than she was and they made better time on their way back.
    The pilot still hadn’t awakened when she returned, and the big man stood over him, worry written on his face. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. He should have come to by now . . .”
    He was awake before, she thought, worry shooting through her. He musn’t die. She had no idea why it was so important that he live, but she wanted him to be all right with every fiber of her being. She held the horse still while the man picked the pilot up as if he were a boy. The pilot moaned.
    “Damn it, Douglas, you’re going to be the death of me,” the young man muttered, and the big man grinned, relief evident on his face.
    “That’ll teach you to crash my aeroplanes.” Douglas carefully arranged him on the sidesaddle. “I don’t know how you ladies ride like that.”
    “We’re born to it,” she answered. “Is he a friend of yours?”
    “Aye. I’ve known him since he was a boy. Now he works for me.”
    “What do you do?” she asked to be polite, though she was more concerned with the injured pilot.
    “I own a motorcar manufacturing plant in Kent, but I am experimenting with manufacturing aeroplanes. Jon was raised here so we brought some planes down to test them. The fields are so flat, you see.”
    So his name was Jon. She tried it out in her mind. Jon . It felt as right as his hand reaching for hers.
    Douglas stopped talking to conserve his breath for climbing back up the hill. They arrived at the top just as the sun set.
    The pilot must have passed out from the ride, because he remained unconscious as the big man settled him into the back of his long, sleek Silver Ghost.
    “Are you going to be able to make it home safely?” Douglas asked.
    She nodded. “Summerset isn’t that far and the horse knows the