“MAMA, MUST you go? You’ve been home nary a month.”
“I must, wee Alison.” Flora MacCallum moved to her youngest’s bed and bent to kiss her little forehead. She smoothed the fine, chestnut hair from her daughter’s face. “Maybe, with a little luck, this time will be the last.”
Malcolm crawled over his sister and down to the floor to hug his mother around the knees. “Are you going to be Emerald again?”
“Aye. I’m going to be Emerald one more time.”
“But it’s the middle of the night.”
“Nay, dawn approaches. And others are doubtless on the Gothards’ trail already.” She knelt to give her bonnie lad a fierce hug, breathing in his scent to sustain her through the days and weeks ahead. Soap and milk, underscored by a faint trace of the dirt she could never quite get out from under his fingernails. She wished she could bottle the aroma and take it with her.
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.