Unwinding his small arms from around her neck, she stood to shrug into a man’s surcoat.
“It’s lucky you two were of a height.” Hearing her mother’s voice, Flora turned to see her leaning against the doorway that separated the two rooms of their cottage. “Not many women can wear their husband’s clothes.”
“Aye?” A strand of long gray hair had escaped her mother’s plait; Flora walked over and pushed it behind her ear. “It was the only lucky thing between us.”
“Now, Flora—”
“Don’t go defending him, Mama.” Though her words were firm, she pressed a kiss to the top of her tiny mother’s head. All of Flora’s height—and she was the tallest woman in Galloway—had come from her father. “I’ll never forgive my husband for pledging our home in a game of dice and then getting himself killed in that border raid. Blasted halliracket.”
“Wheesht! The bairns are listenin’.”
“And right they should be.” Flora twisted her unruly red hair and piled it on her head, then jammed her deceased husband’s hat on top. “It’s fair they know why I have to leave them.”
“Flora—”
“Just give me peace till this is finished, Mama. One last time. With the reward posted for Gothard, I can pay off Kincaid and then some. We’ll be able to breathe. Give the farm our attention. Maybe even get wee Alison her own bed. Won’t that be nice?”
“Nice, Mama!” Alison repeated.
Flora’s mother bent to sweep a length of broken reed off the floor. The roof needed replacing as well. “I blame your daftie of a father for ever takin’ you tracking,” she muttered. “Thought you were the son he never had.”
“Neither of us chose our men well.” Flora stuck a pistol into her boot top and snatched up the sword that was propped in the corner. “Still and all, if Da hadn’t taken me, I wouldn’t be able to get us out of the mess we’re in today.” She kissed her mother’s parchment cheek. “Take care of the bairns, Mama. God willing, I’ll be back to stay.”
Hard kisses for Alison and Malcolm, and she was off to do what needed to be done.
Once and for all.
JASON JERKED awake. Emerald was gone. Again.
Dawn’s hazy gray light seeped through the window. He slept soundly these days, the bone-deep weariness of a healing body coupled with hard hours on the road. But still…how was it that she had risen, gathered her things, and left without waking him?
Cursing himself—which was getting to be quite a habit—he pulled on his boots and went downstairs, hoping she’d only gone in search of something to break her fast. But the Crown’s cheerful taproom was eerily empty. Too early yet for guests to be up and about.
And Emerald was gone, really gone.
He winced at the thought of her out there alone. But there was nothing for it. He could ill afford to waste precious time searching for her, even supposing it were possible he’d be successful. It had been a different matter when she was on a lumbering coach taking a specific route. She could be anywhere by now, and he didn’t know the first thing about tracking—that was her talent, not his.
He would simply have to make it his business to get to London first. How long was her head start? Had she found a horse? With no money, she’d have a hard time of it—
Panicking, he pulled out his coin pouch and spilled the contents into his hand.
Nothing was missing.
Idiot girl.
Slipping the pouch back into his pocket, he tramped out into the gray morning and went to wake the stable boy.
TWENTY-ONE
FOUR HOURS had passed since Caithren had seen a soul. Soaked to the skin, she shivered with a bone-deep cold. She’d passed through three wee villages—if one could even call them that—but only one had boasted an inn, and no coach had been parked in its courtyard.
It felt as though she’d descended into an evil land where no one existed save herself.
As dawn approached, a talkative family rumbled by in an ox-drawn cart. She would have loved to beg a ride, but they were going the opposite direction. Regardless, just the sight of them brought a tiny smile of relief.
Walking backward, she watched them fade into the distance, their cheerful voices becoming fainter and fainter until all was quiet, save for the steady beat of the rain. A lonely sound.
Summoning her last reserves of energy, Cait turned and walked faster. She had to be near the coach by now. Squinting her eyes, she thought she could see a village ahead, a silhouetted irregular line of rooftops. A church spire, or maybe it was only more trees. She couldn’t be sure, and rain suddenly pelted from the sky, obliterating the hazy view and making her shiver even more.
Water sluiced down the gently sloping road, hiding the deep, slushy ruts. She tripped into one of them and fell to her knees in the mud, wrenching a foot as she went. The tears that had been threatening all the long night pricked hot behind her eyelids.
No, not the tears. Not again. She blinked hard and took a deep breath, then dragged herself up.
Though she’d twisted only her ankle, her whole leg throbbed. Her teeth were chattering, and the hand clenching her amulet was shaking and white-knuckled with strain. When she heard a horse approaching from behind, she couldn’t find the strength to turn around and see who it was. Why did it matter, really? Maybe the traveler would help her. More likely he’d simply ignore her.
But just in case, she pulled the amulet off over her head and shoved it up her soggy sleeve.
Not a second too soon. The heavy thud of someone dropping from a horse made her force
