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Her sweet goat, lying in the mud.
Martin dropped the horse’s tackle in surprise, taking a few steps towards it. A small crowd of bystanders gathered before the goat, their faces drawn in concern.
The goat lifted its head, her heart had never felt lighter or more relieved. The little darling was safe.
Diane put a hand over her mouth as its head turned this way and that. Almost as surprised as she was at it being unharmed, was that it really was a fainting goat. She had not expected that.
From afar, it blinked those sideways pupils at her.
If she wanted to have her choices matter, it was now or never.
Diane turned quickly to the rear of the carriage, unfastening Martin’s partially hitched horse. Then she turned forward, and scooped up the reins.
“Martin!” Diane called out, turning her head to him, one last time. “Cancel the wedding.”
There was no less panic the second time she’d snapped the reins and the carriage lurched violently, but this time she managed a bit more steering.
She did not turn to look back as Martin called out after her.
The carriage jolted as it took every bump and every rock, both on and off the road, but Diane felt none of it, she was so focused on getting out of town.
Perhaps a half mile past when she could no longer hear Martin calling her name after her, Diane felt secure enough to let the horse slow its pace. The sounds of the carriage, the horse’s hoof beats, the creaking of the wooden seat and the tall wheels all quieted, and it was just her own heartbeat in her ears.
The air was cool, and the road before her was open and endless.
She could go either direction. She could just head for the horizon for as long as she could stand it.
Diane closed her eyes and let herself just soak in the thought of such unadulterated freedom. There were so many choices and possibilities. Among them many were awful, unthinkable even, and during her wedding ceremony just two days ago, Diane would have thought nearly all of them preferable to marrying Martin.
Yet now, she didn’t want any of them. Not so long as they didn’t include Liam. Even the very worst of the paths before here were made immeasurably better by the thought of him.
But how would any of them include him, when she was miles away, not knowing where she was or where he was?
The carriage rolled on aimlessly, as Diane’s grip on the reins loosened from a vise to barely holding them at all, as the leather sat unused in her lap. Only when the horse seemed intent to stray off the road to snack on the tall grass, did she return her attention to driving.
A signpost came up alongside the road and Diane was so focused on not hitting it, she nearly missed the words. The painted, chipping GRETNA GREEN caught her attention, flagging the divide in the road.
“Lucky is the man who meets you there,” he’d whispered into her skin the night before.
The answer appeared before her in a flash. He had suggested Gretna Green, getting married at the anvil.
With barely a thought, Diane yanked the reins to the right side of the road, the same side the sign pointed to, and the carriage jerked to the left.
She fumbled with the reins to correct, but it was too late. The weight of the carriage lifted up on one wheel, teetering sickeningly before it pitched to the wrong side.
Diane gasped, heart dropping out of her chest, and once again, the world fell away.
