Terrified, she screamed, twisting around to check on him. "Pull over, we need to remove the arrow," she insisted, her voice trembling with urgency.
Instead of stopping, he tightened his grip on her waist and urged the horse to move faster. "It's just an arrow. We don't have to stop. I am fine," he assured her, his tone casual despite the obvious pain.
Belle's worry deepened, and frustration flickered in her chest. How could he dismiss his own injury so easily? What if he fainted mid-ride? Wouldn't that be far more dangerous than stopping?
"But…" she started, then bit her lip, realizing it was pointless to argue. She resigned herself to waiting until they reached their destination, silently stewing in her concern.
"We won't be heading back now," Quinn relayed, a teasing lilt in his voice. "You might have to be separated from your husband for a while."
