wind.
“We’re not going to Slyddon. It’s better if we make camp and wait them out.”
That would mean living rough, of course. They’d stay to the trails and go straight into the New Forest and camp for now. No fine inns, no friendly faces to take them in. Fortunately, Michael was at his best when surviving off the land. He’d done so before and he’d do so again. Even if it cost him his life, he’d die saving Beatrice if he had to. And, not just because Ash had asked his help. He simply could not envision a world without her in it.
Chapter 5
Beatrice held tight as they rode well into the day. She swore she could hear the men chasing after them at every turn. The day warmed up only until mid-morning and then the rain began, a steady drizzle, and temperatures dropped as the afternoon shadows grew longer into night. The more hours that passed, the more miserable she felt.
“Will we be stopping soon?” she asked. At first she wasn’t sure he’d heard her, as the wind had begun whipping around them.
“In a bit. We can’t take the chance of them catching up.”
“Oh.” Though her spirits were sinking by the moment, she did her best to hold her feelings in check. It wouldn’t do for her to turn into a nagging harpy.
“Another hour,” he called out to her. “Maybe two. I know where there is a cabin we can stay for the time being.”
“Are you sure we’ll be safe?”
“As sure as I am of anything,” he called to her.
For almost three hours they rode and she feared that she was near to dying. With the continual downpour, cold had penetrated through her clothes, and even though Michael had pulled off his own coat to wrap around her, it made little difference.
“Don’t you need it?” she asked, her teeth chattering.
He laughed. “Of course not. Hide as thick as a camel, you know.”
Bea now sat huddled in his arms. The one time they’d stopped, he’d moved her to sit in his lap and wrapped his coat around her. She found a small measure of warmth, but only for a short time.
From that time until they approached the beaten-down cottage, she knew nothing. In and out of drowsiness, she lost track of time.
“Here we are,” he said at last. Easing off the horse, he pulled her down in his arms and carried her to the front of the cabin. The door was shut and a rusted iron lock was in place. Bea heard him curse. She thought he might have put her down, but instead only stepped back a pace and then kicked the door in. The old wood and rusty hinges gave in easily enough.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Nowhere special,” he answered, carrying her through the cottage to where a cot sat in one corner, dried straw upon it. Settling her there, he went into the other room and came back with a coarse horse blanket and spread it across the bed.
“Here,” he said, pulling the edges up around her shoulders. “I’ll build a fire.”
“Thank you,” she barely managed. She dozed off then, and when she awoke again, she saw that he’d set a blaze in the fireplace. The room had heated up nicely despite the thick veil of smoke that hung about the room.
“First order of business is to fix that flue or we’ll choke to death.”
“Michael,” she said, “it doesn’t look that bad. Can’t it wait until morning? You’ve not rested at all.”
“I’ve gone farther on less sleep.” He turned from her and went back to his task. After clearing some sort of nest from the chimney, he found an ancient broom and began sweeping the area clear, coughing when a cloud of dusty ash swirled about him.
“For Heaven’s sake. You’ve stirred up enough dust to cause a windstorm.”
He laughed. “Once the dust settles, you’ll be thanking me.”
“If I’m still breathing.” She coughed. “Please rest for a bit,” she said.
“You’ll be fine. I’m just going to fix up a place for us to sleep for the night. This cabin can be quite cozy once we set things to right.”
“I highly doubt that,” Bea
“We’re not going to Slyddon. It’s better if we make camp and wait them out.”
That would mean living rough, of course. They’d stay to the trails and go straight into the New Forest and camp for now. No fine inns, no friendly faces to take them in. Fortunately, Michael was at his best when surviving off the land. He’d done so before and he’d do so again. Even if it cost him his life, he’d die saving Beatrice if he had to. And, not just because Ash had asked his help. He simply could not envision a world without her in it.
Chapter 5
Beatrice held tight as they rode well into the day. She swore she could hear the men chasing after them at every turn. The day warmed up only until mid-morning and then the rain began, a steady drizzle, and temperatures dropped as the afternoon shadows grew longer into night. The more hours that passed, the more miserable she felt.
“Will we be stopping soon?” she asked. At first she wasn’t sure he’d heard her, as the wind had begun whipping around them.
“In a bit. We can’t take the chance of them catching up.”
“Oh.” Though her spirits were sinking by the moment, she did her best to hold her feelings in check. It wouldn’t do for her to turn into a nagging harpy.
“Another hour,” he called out to her. “Maybe two. I know where there is a cabin we can stay for the time being.”
“Are you sure we’ll be safe?”
“As sure as I am of anything,” he called to her.
For almost three hours they rode and she feared that she was near to dying. With the continual downpour, cold had penetrated through her clothes, and even though Michael had pulled off his own coat to wrap around her, it made little difference.
“Don’t you need it?” she asked, her teeth chattering.
He laughed. “Of course not. Hide as thick as a camel, you know.”
Bea now sat huddled in his arms. The one time they’d stopped, he’d moved her to sit in his lap and wrapped his coat around her. She found a small measure of warmth, but only for a short time.
From that time until they approached the beaten-down cottage, she knew nothing. In and out of drowsiness, she lost track of time.
“Here we are,” he said at last. Easing off the horse, he pulled her down in his arms and carried her to the front of the cabin. The door was shut and a rusted iron lock was in place. Bea heard him curse. She thought he might have put her down, but instead only stepped back a pace and then kicked the door in. The old wood and rusty hinges gave in easily enough.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Nowhere special,” he answered, carrying her through the cottage to where a cot sat in one corner, dried straw upon it. Settling her there, he went into the other room and came back with a coarse horse blanket and spread it across the bed.
“Here,” he said, pulling the edges up around her shoulders. “I’ll build a fire.”
“Thank you,” she barely managed. She dozed off then, and when she awoke again, she saw that he’d set a blaze in the fireplace. The room had heated up nicely despite the thick veil of smoke that hung about the room.
“First order of business is to fix that flue or we’ll choke to death.”
“Michael,” she said, “it doesn’t look that bad. Can’t it wait until morning? You’ve not rested at all.”
“I’ve gone farther on less sleep.” He turned from her and went back to his task. After clearing some sort of nest from the chimney, he found an ancient broom and began sweeping the area clear, coughing when a cloud of dusty ash swirled about him.
“For Heaven’s sake. You’ve stirred up enough dust to cause a windstorm.”
He laughed. “Once the dust settles, you’ll be thanking me.”
“If I’m still breathing.” She coughed. “Please rest for a bit,” she said.
“You’ll be fine. I’m just going to fix up a place for us to sleep for the night. This cabin can be quite cozy once we set things to right.”
“I highly doubt that,” Bea
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