In the barnyard, the little girl set aside her drums, and the fiddler switched to a slower, sweeter tune. The farmers began to pair up, swaying through the firelight with gentler steps.
Archer stepped closer to Briar. He didn’t speak, his face a question Briar wasn’t sure she was ready to answer. Her breath hitched as if she were standing at the edge of a precipice, deciding whether or not to leap.
The slow song curled around them, as tantalizing as the aroma of sweetbriar roses.
She swallowed, her throat dry. “Another dance?”
For the space of a smile, Archer looked as if dancing with her was the only thing he wanted in the entire world. He leaned toward her, hand extending. Then a shadow crossed his face, and he shook his head. His hand dropped into a fist at his side. “We’ve already stayed too long. We should get back before Jemma worries.”
“Oh. Sure.” Briar straightened her skirt, trying to pretend the sudden reversal didn’t sting. “Lead the way.”
Archer hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else after all, then he turned resolutely into the darkness.
They slipped away from the farm without taking any more of the family’s food and walked single file along the edge of the field.
Briar studied Archer’s back as she followed him to camp, neither of them speaking. A breeze whispered through ripe wheat and stirred his unruly hair. She didn’t want to read too much into a single dance, but she had seen the way he sometimes looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching. And she hadn’t imagined the way he’d been leaning toward her, the way he had stolen the breath from her chest.
Briar knew that if he asked her to stay with the team then and there—to stay with him—she would say yes. But whatever Archer felt for her, he chose not to act on it when he had ample opportunity. That told her enough.
Still, as they walked silently back to camp, the memory of the bright barnyard lingered, the families spinning across the earth after a good day’s work. After fleeing her parents’ home, Briar had struggled to create a picture of the life she wanted instead of the one they’d modelled for her. She had loved the smell of wood smoke, oil paint, and dry thatch in her cottage. Now, she was adding to the image—a well-spread table, laughing people, fiddles and drums. The life she wished for was becoming clearer, taking on shape and hue. When the job at Narrowmar was complete, she would be free to seek it.
Chapter 14
Archer could have stayed in that barnyard all night. Briar’s eyes had lit up as she danced, and it was all he could do not to put his hands in her wild hair and run a thumb over her smiling lips. She was normally so guarded, but she’d given him a glimpse behind her tall, tangled walls.
He had nearly kissed her when she’d suggested another dance, but he wasn’t certain she would welcome it, and when she didn’t speak to him the whole way back to camp, he was glad he’d held back. Well, almost glad.
In any case, Archer judged the evening well worth a light scolding. They returned to camp much later than intended and found Jemma pacing beside the spring, as agitated as a wolf who’d wandered into poison ivy.
“You could have been murdered,” Jemma said the moment Briar rolled up in her blankets by the fire, leaving them to talk privately.
“I knew the farmers were good people.” Archer sat on a mossy boulder, pulled an arrow from his quiver, and began trimming the fletching with his belt knife. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered paying them back in the first place.”
“I’m not talking about the farmers.” Jemma jerked her head toward the fire. “Why did you bring her?”
“I figured Briar could use a break.”
“Archer.”
“We went for a walk. It’s not a big deal.”
“I warned you about her.”
“She deserves a chance,” Archer said. “And she says she has an idea for a curse that’ll help us crack Narrowmar. I think she’s finally starting to trust me.”
“But what about Mae?”
“What about her?”
“Archer.”
“Briar has nothing to do with Mae.” His shoulders hunched involuntarily, and he didn’t quite meet Jemma’s eyes.
She had to be contemplating what would happen to Mae after they rescued her—and the part Archer himself would play in that. But right then, with Briar’s laughter pealing like a bell in his memory, he didn’t much care.
“Traveling with a woman probably made me look less threatening to the farmers. They gave me food and information instead of running me off their property.”
Jemma raised an eyebrow. “Information?”
“Larke was seen heading southwest.” Archer gestured with the arrow. “We can finish the job without him turning up unannounced.”
Jemma was quiet for a moment. “I suppose that is good news.” She cast a meaningful look at Briar’s sleeping form. “But I still don’t like this.”
“There’s no ‘this’ not to like.” Archer stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Why don’t you get some rest, Jem? I’ll finish your watch.”
“Don’t you dismiss me. I agreed to follow your lead, but—”
“You did,” Archer cut in. “And unless you’re planning to overthrow me as the leader of this band, I’m holding you to that agreement. I know what I’m doing.”
Jemma bristled, and for a few tense heartbeats, she looked like she really would challenge him. Instead, she dropped a curtsy fit for a king and marched off to her bedroll. Archer winced. He didn’t like pulling rank, but the closer they got to Narrowmar, the more important it was to remain united. Besides, he had gotten useful information, no matter what Jemma thought of his little expedition to see the farmers, and he wouldn’t trade that dance with Briar for anything.
The next morning over breakfast, Briar told them her new idea for breaking into Narrowmar. Jemma studied her with pursed lips for a long time
