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He’d spent the first half of his life adrift, so free-floating in a runaway hot air balloon really ought not be so very unfamiliar. But this time was different. Bram’s heart stalled in his chest as he stared, horrified, at Eva.

It wasn’t only his life at stake.

She hunched over, arm to her stomach, hand to her mouth, her bonnet lying forgotten on the basket floor. Thank God there was no wind casting them to kingdom come, nor were they rising at a breath-stealing rate, but still Eva quivered with suppressed fear.

He slung his arm around her and eased her to sit with her back against the basket wall. The flickering flame overhead supplied enough light to witness the ashen colour of her skin. He tipped her face toward his. “Breathe, Eva. Come on. You can do this.”

“I-I—oh!” Once again she slapped her hand to her mouth, her fingers muffling the rest of her words. “I am going to be sick.”

“No, you are not.” The words came out harsher than he intended but did a fair job of sparking a bit of anger in her eyes. Good. A little fight was just what she needed.

“Now then, you are going to breathe with me. In and out. Like this.” He sucked in then blew out an exaggerated lungful of air. “Ready?” Gently, he pulled her hand from her mouth. “In. Out.”

She inhaled—albeit very choppily—and exhaled just as roughly. A start, at least.

“That’s it. Keep it going.”

Her pale blue eyes locked on to his. This time, while still shaky, she breathed somewhat easier. After several more tries—and a silent prayer on his part—her air flowed much more freely. Pink seeped back into her cheeks, and the sharp line of her shoulders relaxed.

“See? That was not so hard.” Reaching for her hand, he smoothed his thumb along her palm. “There is nothing to fear. You are not alone. I am here. We will be fine.”

“But how will we get down? There is no ladder. There is nothing and no one to save us.” Her words ended on a shrill note.

The basket swayed. Her nostrils flared, and she flung out her arm as an anchor. Clearly she needed some sort of rousing speech to rally.

“Listen, Eva.” Bah! What to say? He was much more fit to inspire a group of sweaty college lads than a frightened woman. “This ... this is not the first time I have had to rely on God alone. And I daresay it is not yours either. So how about you pull yourself together and have a little faith, hmm?”

“Since when are you such a preacher?”

“Whenever I face death.”

The whites of her eyes grew impossibly large. “ Are we going to die?”

Blast. Poor choice, that. He forced a merry chuckle. “Not if I can help it. Sit tight. I shall have us down in no time.”

Rising, he tipped his face to the burner above. The best way to make Eva feel better was to land this thing. How hard could it be?

The basket shifted, and he cut a glance her way. She stood, gripping the edge, her back to the drop below. No longer did she hunch over nor lift shaky fingers to her mouth. She still looked like a lost little girl with her tiara askew and pieces of hair straggling over her brow, but there was a definite change to the gleam in her eyes.

“If we are going to go down, I want to do so being a help, not a hindrance.” She lifted her chin. “Tell me what to do.”

Well. This was new. The Eva he remembered would have continued crying in the bottom of the basket. Evidently the strength he’d seen in her of late went deeper than he knew.

He scanned the basket, mind racing for a solution. Reducing the heat was the best way to land this thing, but what else? Nothing, really. But he had to give her something other to do than panic.

He faced Eva. “I will adjust the flame. You haul in the tether and hold tightly to it.” He aimed his finger at the dangling rope. “See it?”

“Yes, but what will that accomplish?”

“There is no time to explain now. Just do it.”

Thankfully, she did as he’d instructed because honestly, he had nothing else to keep her busy. Leastwise for now.

He studied the burner mechanism, searching for the—Ah, there it was. Ever so gradually, he turned the control valve counterclockwise, decreasing the flow of fuel. The more the fire shrank, the more its hiss gentled to a shush. He glanced out over the nighttime scenery, the black outlines of trees lifting toward the basket—or more like the basket lowered toward them.

“We’re descending!” Eva gathered the length of rope to her chest, hugging it with a smile. “How brilliant!”

Indeed. He turned back to the control valve. If he lessened it a bit more, they’d drop even faster, then he could search for a grassy knoll in which to land.

“Bram?”

“Hmm?” He eased the valve a bit more.

“We’re going too fast.”

He glanced away from the now-tiny flame. Blast! She was right. They plummeted toward the dark ground.

“Do something!” Eva cried.

He snapped his gaze back to the pilot light, a mere sputter of blue and yellow. Sweat popped on his brow. If that fire went out, there’d be no controlling their descent whatsoever. Desperate, he fiddled with the control valve.

And still the balloon picked up speed.

So this was it? Her body thrown to the ground like a discarded rag doll. Every bone shattered. And there’d be no saying good-bye to Penny. Eva dragged in a shuddering breath as she clutched the bundle of rope for dear life. Oh, sweet mercy. What would happen to Penny without her? Why did God not smile upon her?

A great sob stuck in her throat. No, things couldn’t end like this. They wouldn’t!

Trying hard to ignore the drop in her stomach as they plummeted earthward, she turned to Bram. “What should I do?”

He didn’t so much as glance at her as he fiddled with the burner. “Crouch down and do not let go of that rope.”

How in the world would that help? “Surely there is something more I can—”

“Do it!”

There was no ignoring that command. She hunkered low, making herself as small as possible, which was absurd, really. Sprawled spread-eagle or curled in the fetal position wouldn’t make a whit of difference when the balloon collided with the ground.

God , please hear my prayer. I don’t deserve Your help , and yet I plead for it.

A great hiss arose. She lifted her face toward Bram, his feet planted wide, his arms overhead—and an increasing orange glow casting a heavenly halo atop his loose hair. The freefalling sensation in her belly eased somewhat, creeping away in increments. Were they leveling off?

She rose an inch at a time and peeked over the basket’s edge. Far back to one side, a red dot glowed—the Royston bonfire, she could only assume. Ahead, a dark bank of trees hovered just below them. Wait a minute. Trees didn’t hover.

The balloon was hovering!

She rose to full height, smiling broadly at Bram. “We’re not dropping anymore.”

“True, but neither have we landed yet, and I need that help you wanted to give. I know it will be hard for you, but I dare not leave this flame. You must look over the edge and find us a clearing to land in.”

“But I—”

“You can do this, Eva.” He pulled his gaze away from the flame and looked directly into her eyes. “I know you can.”

Encouragement radiated off him as tangibly as the reddish glow from the flame. He believed in her. She couldn’t— wouldn’t —disappoint him.

“All right.” Summoning the remaining shreds of her courage, she set down the coil of rope and padded to the side of the basket. Sure enough, they slowly floated just above the bank of trees. At least she assumed they were trees. What else could such a black abyss be?

She clutched the rough edge of the basket, wicker splinters digging into the palms of her hands. Ahead, the inkiness gave way somewhat. “I think there is a field coming up.”

“You think ?”

He was right. She’d better be certain. She narrowed her eyes, and there, just beyond the dark tree line, was a large grey area with two dark blotches near the center. Four orange dots glowed on the smaller of the two shapes. A house, perhaps. Her gaze drifted to the larger outline next to it, the distinct black line of a cross atop the roof.

She’d clap her hands were she not clutching the edge of the basket in a death grip. “It is a glebe! And we may even get some help from the vicar for there are lights in the house.”

“Very good. Let me know when you feel the slightest bump beneath your feet.”

The flame hiss lessened. The balloon sank lower, but this time the descent was at a more controlled speed. Eventually something scraped beneath her feet. “I feel it.”

“How many more trees to clear?”

La. She’d never been good at distance. “Twenty feet, maybe?”

“Tell me the instant we clear them.”

The scraping grew louder. Sucking in a big breath, Eva looked directly down into grey instead of black. “Cleared!”

“And where is the church and vicarage?”

She went back to scanning the horizon. “Not far. To the left.”

“Then here we go.”

This time they descended gracefully, the burner’s angry hiss softening to a steady whisper. The basket bumped the ground once, twice, then landed with a soft bounce hardly ten yards from the vicarage’s front door, the balloon just inflated enough to keep aloft, but not enough to lift off again.

Bram let out a whoop, a grin as wide as a summer day flashing on his face.

They’d landed. Oh, how good it was to be on solid ground.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “You did it!”

“No, we did it, and I could not be prouder of you.” Ever so lightly, his lips brushed against her brow, his voice a soothing rumble. “You are amazing.”

Warmth spread through her body from neck to knees. It was wonderful the way his arms pulled her close. Irresistible, really. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, breathing in his earthy scent, surprised at how right it felt to give in to this man’s embrace.

“What is going on here?” The thunderclap of a booming voice cleaved the sweet moment in two.

Eva jolted away from Bram, whirling as she did so. Just past the basket stood Mr. Blackwood with another somber-coated man at his side. Each held lanterns. Both looked like monsters from the way the shadows elongated their features.

Mr. Blackwood lifted his light, the blue of his eyes as sharp as a kitchen knife as he studied her. “Miss Inman? Mr. Webb? Can it be?”

Behind her, Bram stepped closer. Just knowing he was at her back kept her from swooning. Of all the times and places for the reverend to show up.

“I—” She cleared her throat, willing words to flow. “I am as surprised to see you here, Mr. Blackwood.”

“This is highly improper!” he spluttered.

“I could not agree with you more.” Bram chuckled as he unlatched the basket door. He alighted the few inches to the ground, then offered her his hand. The grip of his warm fingers did much to right a world that was quickly falling apart.

The fellow next to Mr. Blackwood glanced amongst them all. “You are acquainted with each other? How very peculiar. But do tell, why have you chosen to land here in St. Andrew’s Green, sir?”

“It was more a necessity than a choice.” Bram doubled back to the balloon to retrieve the tether rope.

Mr. Blackwood shook his head. “And here I thought to escape all the madness of Bonfire Night.” At length he lowered his lantern, which was a mercy and a fright, for now the features of his face once again stretched in macabre shadows. “I am afraid I shall have to cut short my visit, Mr. Tanbridge. Miss Inman here is a member of my parish, and I will not see her reputation tarnished any further than it already is. If you wouldn’t mind having your boy harness my horse and give my thanks to your wife for such a hearty meal?”

“Straightaway, Mr. Blackwood. Until next time, Godspeed.”

As the man retreated, Eva dared a step closer to the formidable reverend. “I assure you, Mr. Blackwood, nothing untoward happened between myself and Mr. Webb. The balloon broke loose, and we landed here. That is all there is to it.”

His intense gaze drilled into her like the eyes of God, yet he said not a word.

“Pardon, Mr. Blackwood.” Bram stepped between them. “Could you hold this rope for a moment? If I do not tie down this balloon, it could take off again.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bram shoved the thick length of cording into one of the man’s hands, then strode away.

The reverend frowned, then ever so slowly, he pointed to her head. “You are about to lose your crown.”

“Oh.” She yanked off the ridiculous tiara and patted her hair, tucking what wild strays she could. “I must look a fright.”

“As you well know, Miss Inman, vanity is a sin ... amongst others.”

She gritted her teeth. He’d been suspicious of her and Bram ever since the dig had begun, for he’d warned her every Sunday to beware of what iniquity might be crouching at her door. That without a father or elder brother in the home to supply her with counsel, she might fall prey to the charms of Mr. Webb. Though she’d denied any impropriety, it seemed no matter what she said, there was no way to please the man. Must he be so harsh?

“I realize, Mr. Blackwood, that as a member of your parish, you are only doing your duty to look out for me. I appreciate that. I truly do. And yet a gentler approach would be better received by me, and no doubt would as well by other sheep of your flock. Was not Jesus a tender shepherd?”

“Not when He was flipping over money tables.”

Thankfully it was dark enough that he’d not note the roll of her eyes. He always had an ominous rejoinder at the ready. Was that why her father had warned her against him? To protect her from verbal lashings? Could be, but deep in her belly, she suspected there was something more to it. What, exactly, she had yet to discover.

Moments later, grunts and heaves traveled on the air. Bram rolled an enormous rock their way, stopping just beyond the reverend.

“Thank you.” He collected the rope, then tied the thing securely around the boulder. “With that tether—and barring any winds, of course—this ought to hold very nicely until the balloon master can get here. How far are we from Royston?”

“A little over two miles. I should have you back to town within the hour.” The reverend turned on his heel toward a black carriage and an even blacker horse being led by a young lad.

“All’s ready, Mr. Blackwood,” the boy called.

The reverend merely gestured for Eva and Bram to follow.

“He is as dour as he is on Sundays,” Bram whispered.

She hid a smile. It was true Mr. Blackwood rarely imparted lightness to his intense sermons, but in truth she’d hardly noticed the past month. She’d been too busy trying not to get caught snatching glances at Bram, who sat in the pew opposite her, for he cut a very fine figure in his Sunday suit.

The reverend pointed to the rear of the small coach. “You will have to stand on the backboard, Mr. Webb, though I always say brisk air is inducive to perfecting character. Teaches one to count his blessings.”

Bram leapt up with a grin. “I am already grateful for your service, sir.”

“As you should be,” Mr. Blackwood muttered, then he offered her his hand. “Miss Inman.”

His fingers were ice. The moment she hoisted herself up, she pulled from his touch. The ride in the balloon had been harrowing, yet it was preferable to an hour-long trek sitting next to a man who made her skin crawl. Would that she could be the one on the backboard instead of Bram, no matter how brisk the air.

The carriage canted to the side as Mr. Blackwood climbed in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue twice. “Walk on.”

Eva folded her hands in her lap, squeezing them tightly lest she chew on her fingernails and give the reverend something more to hold against her.

“It is not often, Miss Inman, that one finds oneself floating in the heavens, beholden to the whims of the wind ... alone with a man.” He cut her a sharp sideways glance.

She stifled a sigh. Evidently he wasn’t going to let this infraction slip by so easily. “I did not fly away with Mr. Webb on purpose. I won the Queen of the Bonfire contest, and he was crowned king. As is tradition, it was our duty to go in the balloon—safely tethered to the earth and in full view of the entire town—in order to start the bonfire. Immediately after Bram released the flaming arrow, the rope somehow broke free, and we were set loose. There was nothing to do but try to land as quickly as possible, which we did. And so you have the full story. Believe me when I say none of this was of my choosing.”

“I see.” Simple enough words, but by the sour tone of his voice, what he saw was as appealing as a dishful of curdled milk. “I suppose God’s providence does work in mysterious ways. Perhaps there is a lesson to be gained from the precariousness of your situation.”

A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “I prefer my lessons with solid ground beneath my feet.”

“Solid ground is what we all seek, but life has a way of keeping us aloft, does it not? Much like that balloon of yours.”

“I fail to see the spiritual metaphor here, Mr. Blackwood.”

The carriage wheel hit a rut, juddering her bones. She flung out a hand to grip the side of the carriage. Hopefully Bram was still standing.

“We are all tethered to something, Miss Inman,” the reverend continued after clearing another dip. “Responsibilities, relationships, even our own desires. When that tether snaps, as it is wont to do, this is when we realize the true extent of our faith.” This time he turned his whole face toward her. “I pray you find that your faith is deeply anchored in Christ.”

And there it was. The same doubt of his he managed to bring up every time he spoke a word to her. Must he always view her as a wayward lamb? Part of his responsibility as a clergyman, no doubt, but still such skepticism chafed.

She clutched the carriage wall all the tighter. “I appreciate your insight about being tethered to various aspects of life. It reminds me of the verse you preached on last Sunday, ‘For I know the thoughts I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.’ Perhaps even in the unexpected—such as my ill-timed balloon ride—there is an opportunity for God’s plan to unfold. A testament to His wisdom, if you will, and our trust in His divine timing. All that to say, Mr. Blackwood, that, yes, though I do not know why God allowed such a dreadful nighttime ride, I assure you my faith is deeply anchored in Christ.”

“Mmm.” It was more of a growl than a word. “For your sake, I hope that is true, Miss Inman, for one never knows which tether will be broken free next.”