Chasing Shadows

by Ashley Townsend

  Without edging forward, Will could perfectly make out the man’s slight build, his once noble clothing soiled from the dungeons.

  He was too late.

  Will’s eyes roved the body out of habit, searching for some sign of life, a twitch of the foot or movement of any kind. He felt a sinking in his gut when he acknowledged that it was useless: The physician had been effectively silenced.

  But how could that be? His execution was scheduled for this evening. The only reason for moving the time of the hanging in secret was if they were concerned of interference from the townsfolk, or if they wished to draw as little attention to the application of justice as possible.

  Will’s hand balled into a fist around his bow. Of course. It all made sense now—the secrecy, Gabriel’s death, destroying the evidence in the woods. It had been clear to him before that they were tying up every stray end in this little charade, whether a viable threat or not, but they were also trying to remain reticent while silently eliminating key players. It was clandestine deeds like this and the utter lack of respect for life that concerned Will.

  Whoever was involved was desperate and willing to do anything to keep their baleful character immersed in shadows.

  A terrible thought struck him, and Will felt his worst fears swaying from the noose along with the dead man. Now that the physician was no longer a threat, how long would it be until the guilty party focused their attention elsewhere? Did they already suspect Sarah? He prayed that wasn’t the case. However, the murderer would not remain ignorant of her suspicions for long, and she was in grave danger if she was the last remaining soul to speak out against him.

  Suddenly, the absence of a guard on the wall made sense: with the deed done, he was more than likely assisting the other guards in preparing for retrieval of the body.

  As if on cue, three guards entered the courtyard, one pushing a flat cart before him. Will dove into a low crouch, listening to their heavy boots clomp over the stones. He held his breath as one set of boots moved up the stairs, each footfall echoing faintly through the stone wall to reach his ears.

  The guard appeared at the top of the stairs, and Will shrank back, his senses on high alert. He breathed a little easier when the man moved away from him along the wall to reach the physician’s body. Bracing himself, the guard detached the length of rope from around a weight that sat at his feet. With a grunt, he allowed an inch of the rope to slip through his fingers at a time.

  From his vantage point, Will watched with a twisted stomach as the body jerked downward, the rope slithering around the wooden posts that made up the execution stand.

  “So what do you make of last evening?” Will recognized the voice coming from below and dared to raise his eyes above the ledge. Two guards stood with the cart in the courtyard, keeping close to the wall as the body was painstakingly lowered to them.

  “Strangest thing I’ve ever encountered,” came the reply. Will hadn’t seen much of their faces the night before, but he instantly placed the voices as belonging to the guards who had discovered Gabriel’s body in the woods. “I haven’t yet inquired about Taylor. Thought it best to do that later, though I’m still not sure. . . .” His voice faded with doubt. Will’s pulse quickened.

  “I understand your hesitation about his guilt, but I’ll go along. Never can be too careful, not with all this secrecy going on.”

  One head bobbed in the semi-darkness. His voice lowered, and Will strained to catch his words, spoken grimly. “Seems a lot of things are happening in secret lately.”

  The physician’s body reached them, and they hefted it into the cart with a dull thunk. They loosened the noose from around his neck, and one of them motioned for the guard above to drag the rope back up.

  “Best not to ask questions unless you want to end up like him,” the other guard muttered as they wheeled the body away.

  The remaining man was pulling the noose back up to the top, and Will took the break in his attention to slip across the walkway and throw himself over the outside ledge. He slid down the rope, ignoring the burn against his raw palms, and dropped onto the ground. Feeling a knot of dread in his stomach, he ignored the tell-tell rope and arrow still trapped in the wall. He left them behind as he ran for home, pumping his legs to beat the sun as it rose over the eastern hills and forcing himself to acknowledge the fact that Sarah wasn’t the only one in trouble.

  They were both in their sights now, but Will fully intended to keep her out of the crosshairs.

  ****

  Sarah roused from sleep. Narrowing her eyes tiredly, she squinted against the shaft of soft light that fell perfectly over her face. The way it caused her head to ache, it might as well have been a spotlight shined directly into her eyes.

  She rolled onto her side, flipping the blanket over her head to shield herself from the light. The quick movement reminded her how sore and stiff her body felt, but it was nothing compared to last night. And though the silent fire had clearly died hours before, she no longer carried that bone-deep cold. She felt almost normal, aside from her aching head and muscles.

  Shifting more carefully this time, she snuggled deeper under the covers and caught the faint scent of evergreen and wood smoke. Will. He’d been with her when she fell asleep—she remembered that much from her foggy recollection of last night. When Sarah focused, she vaguely recalled someone moving her from the floor to the pallet beneath her, but after that, there was nothing.

  A shuffling noise sounded from nearby, and Sarah poked her head out into the chilly air to find someone crouched before the fireplace. It took her a second to place the back of Seth’s head.

  He turned at the sound of her rustling. “Sorry to wake you,” he whispered. “I thought I’d warm the place up before you woke. You look better, though.” Sarah felt so groggy and disheveled that she wondered how bad she had appeared last night.

  “I feel better,” she croaked. She struggled into a sitting position and wrapped the blanket around herself, snuggling deeper into the warmth. It felt a little strange to wake up with Seth there—maybe it was embarrassment over having a man see her so unkempt in the morning—but he appeared unbothered by her appearance. She relaxed, supposing that growing up in such small quarters with women had somewhat desensitized him.

  Clearing her throat, she whispered, “Is everybody up yet?”

  Seth ducked his head to light the fire, blowing gently on the budding flame. “Karen and Leah are still asleep, but Father and Josh are out tending the animals already, and Mother’s in the kitchen doing her best to keep quiet.” He grinned back at her.

  Now that she was aware of Mrs. Jones’ presence, Sarah made out the faint clang and scrap of pots and utensils every now and then.

  Craning her neck to glance around, she winced at the pain in her head. Probably mild dehydration—ironic, considering she’d half-drowned yesterday. “Where did Will go?”

  Seth hesitated. Setting the remaining kindling on the larger log, he sat on the ground facing her. “I saw him this morning. He said there was something important that he needed to do and was sorry he left so early.” Seth gave her a sympathetic grimace. “That’s all I really know. I’m sorry.”

  She was a little wounded at first that he’d left without saying anything, but then she realized that he had probably wanted to let her rest. Resisting the urge to shake her head, she settled for saying, “It’s all right. If he took off, it was for good reason.”

  A grin started to crawl over his lips.

  “What’re you thinking?” Sarah asked suspiciously.

  He shook his head, still smiling. “Nothing. Just that you and Will work rather well together.”

  Ducking her head, she admitted quietly, “I hope that’s true.” Now more than ever, she desperately wanted it to work out between them, but it always came back to the question of if she could leave home and her family for him. She was only eighteen, and although she sensed she was on her way, Sarah wasn’t even sure if she knew what loving someone looked like.r />
  It wasn’t just the matter of moving to Florida and visiting for holidays: if she chose to stay here someday, an idea she couldn’t even fathom at this point, it would mean never seeing her family again. And she couldn’t disturb the rift between times, breaking it to have Will come home with her. As much as the thought tempted her, she knew there could be massive consequences to such a selfish decision.

  Sarah rubbed her gritty eyes in annoyance. She used to think being able to travel through time would solve all her problems, and now it was turning out to be the source of most of them. Hopping through time had become more of a nuisance than anything, and she felt more uncertain and indecisive than ever before.

  “Sarah?” She looked up sharply, half-forgetting that Seth was still there. He looked concerned, his face open.

  She huffed a breath, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. Though the fire was starting to grow, she felt colder inside, somehow. “You like Karen, don’t you?”

  Seth appeared startled by her straightforward question, and then his face broke out in a self-deprecating grin. “I guess I wasn’t trying that hard to hide it. But I would be grateful if you kept this between the two of us. I’d like to be the first to tell her.”

  Nodding, Sarah fell into silence, wondering why she had even asked in the first place. She felt Seth’s curious gaze on her. “What’s on your mind?”

  She bit her lip, thinking. “Would you do anything for Karen?” she whispered, watching the flames danced elegantly in the fireplace.

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. Sarah grinned at his quick, assured remark, but her smile faded.

  “But could you leave your family, all that you’ve ever known, for her?” She planted her chin on her upraised knees, angling her head to see his face.

  Seth’s gaze was focused on the floor, brow drawn in an intensely thoughtful expression she had never seen on his face. “I think,” he began slowly, “that there comes a time when every man needs to leave home and find his own way. I suppose that’s when his life really begins.” He grinned suddenly. “Whether or not that entails chasing after a dame or two is entirely up to him.”

  Unable to hide her grin, Sarah rolled her eyes. “C’mon, be serious.”

  Smile fading, he said earnestly, “Yes, I would do anything for her.”

  Sarah nodded once. “Good.”

  “But,” he said, seeming to sense her loaded questions, “you and Will have to make your own decisions. I know my old friend well enough to see that he would follow you to the ends of the earth and back, if you required it.”

  “I’d never ask him to do that,” she whispered with a grimace. Seth didn’t know his words had hit the nail right on the head.

  He gave her a soft smile. “You wouldn’t have to.”

  She sighed. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Grinning, she added, “And I’m glad you finally realized how amazing Karen is.” She didn’t need to add how relieved she was that Seth was no longer interested in her.

  Flexing his arms in a gesture that reminded Sarah of the preening peacocks at the zoo, Seth said in a macho voice, “It never would have worked out between us anyway, darling. You’re too high maintenance with all the constant saving and requirement of bravery, and whatnot.” He flicked his hands in the air in a dismissive gesture.

  Sarah gaped at him and then let out a hoarse laugh. “I seem to get myself into a few scrapes now and then, but it’s nothing a good friend with great advice can’t fix.”

  He chuckled along with her. Lowering his voice, he said, “You can return the favor of my sage wisdom by convincing Karen she’s in love with me.” Though the words were spoken in jest, Sarah heard the underlying uncertainty in his voice.

  She hid her grin in the folds of fabric, tucking away the secret she held. How could he not see that her job was already done for her?

  ~Chapter 43~

  Breakfast was an interesting affair. It consisted of one hovering mother, two watchful-eyed redheads who barricaded Sarah on either side, and three Jones men who repeatedly reprimanded the lady of the house whenever she inquired after Sarah’s health or volunteered to cut her breakfast into manageable bites, which was quite often.

  Sarah could no longer hide her grin. Each time Mr. Jones kindly reminded his wife that her patient was doing just fine and was perfectly capable of slicing sausage with her own hands, she shot a look at Seth, and he had to clear his throat when he looked on the verge of laughter. Ruth Jones swatted her husband’s arm once when he suggested that Sarah could feed herself just fine, and Samuel raised his hands, surrendering with a good-humored grin.

  Sometimes when Sarah looked up, she caught Seth shooting a secret gaze at Karen more than once, though that girl appeared completely oblivious to his poorly disguised attention. Josh and Sarah shared a grin and then went back to their meals.

  “Next time you must come back under better circumstances,” Mrs. Jones said as they bade her farewell, wrapping Sarah in a tight, motherly embrace. Smiling, Sarah hugged her back. She pushed away all questioning thoughts about whether this would be the last time she saw these friendly faces, these people who had welcomed her into their family without question.

  “I won’t be going anywhere near the water for a while, trust me,” Sarah said emphatically, laughing a little.

  There were hugs all around from the women, and Leah beamed up at her, though they were nearly at eye-level now. She would look even more like a woman the next time Sarah saw her. If she came back, that is.

  “Now are you sure you won’t be needing another cloak?” Ruth Jones ambled onto the porch after her, worrying the front of her skirt with her hands.

  Chuckling, Mr. Jones pulled her against his side and bent down to whisper in her ear. She swatted at his midsection, but she was masking a grin of her own.

  The two brothers were leading the horses out of the barn after hitching them to the wagon. Karen had volunteered to drive Sarah back into town, and Seth had insisted on coming along.

  Warmed by the love she felt surrounding her on the porch, Sarah forced back tears and jogged down the steps after Karen, waving back to them. Concealed chunks of frost that floated in the light mist clung to her skin and hair, melting into her clothes. She shivered, grateful that Mrs. Jones had insisted on her borrowing the heaviest cloak they owned.

  Josh smiled at her as she approached. “You always seem to cause quite the stir when you drop by.”

  Sarah laughed at that, surprised to feel so winded after her brief jog; she hoped it wouldn’t take very long to regain her strength. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t be. Nothing interesting ever happens around this town.” Sarah ducked her head to hide her expression as he helped her into the wagon: He couldn’t be farther off base.

  Seth kept the two girls engaged as they drove into town, and Sarah was disappointed when the rutted path turned to smooth cobblestones, the castle gates looming before them. She motioned Seth ahead, and the wagon rolled along the side of the wall. He pulled the horses to a halt at the servants’ entrance, frowning.

  “You sure you want to go in here?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I know my way around this end of the castle. And I don’t want to deal with the guards.” She didn’t add why, and neither he nor Karen asked.

  Hopping down from the seat, Sarah wished she could speak with her friend privately, but there would be time for that later. Smiling up at her companions, she said, “Thanks, guys.” For all they had done, she wanted to add. But their answering smiles let her know they sensed her unspoken words.

  “Always.” Karen waved to her as they drove off. Watching the back of their heads shrink into small dots down the street, Sarah felt an unwelcome pang in her middle. It seemed so easy for some.

  She thought of Karen’s concern over her barrenness and immediately reprimanded her self-pitying train of thought. Moving slowly up t
he stairs on quivering legs, she reminded herself that many inward struggles went unseen by others. The greatest demons one could fight were their own, and Sarah told herself that she wasn’t alone in that struggle.

  When she reached the top of the stairs, her heart was beating rapidly. “Almost dying really does a number,” she muttered. A maid scrubbing the base of the banister glanced up in question, and Sarah smiled apologetically.

  Suddenly needing company, she ran to her room and changed into a vibrant red velvet gown that looked soft and warm. Damien had mentioned once that he liked red.

  Sarah shook her head at the random thought and hastily laced up the front of the dress and the boots she still wore, which Mrs. Jones had thought to dry by the fire last night. And then she quickly crossed the hall and knocked on Damien’s door. She hoped his arm hadn’t gotten infected in her neglect, knowing she certainly wouldn’t be receiving any awards of merit in the nursing field. But she still had some poultice in her room somewhere. . . .

  She knocked again, more firmly this time, expecting to hear him rustling around inside. The door creaked open at her insistence. She froze, imagining the last time Damien had left his door unlocked, when she’d found him half-conscious in the midst of his seizures.

  Pulse thumping with worry, Sarah stepped inside, hoping she was overreacting, and was vaguely relieved to find the room empty. She closed the door behind her, deciding to wait until he returned from his errand.

  She wandered the room for a minute to keep her mind occupied but felt like she was snooping. Planting herself at his desk, she drummed her fingers on the tabletop, eyes roving disinterestedly over the lists and half-written notes scattered over the surface. Minutes passed, but there was no sign of him. Sarah scratched idly at a few stray drops of candlewax on the surface of the wood as her eyes roved the lists and business letters he had carefully penned in his elegant script. Had he gone out searching for her?