A criminal, her mind said. A man wrongly punished, her heart countered. He saved your life more than once.
Only to shatter it.
She dropped her hand. But he caught it in his and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. There was an intensity in his eyes, a fevered desire that was more than lust, more than truth. It penetrated her skin, soaring through her blood to her spirit. But before she could figure out exactly what it was, he turned away, leaving her alone and more confused than before.
Solace finished up at the stream before following Logan’s path back to the horses. He was nowhere to be seen. Alexander was checking the shoes of his horse. Solace walked up to him, her gaze scanning the forest for any sign of Logan. She chewed her lip gently, debating the best way to question him.
“What do you want?” Alexander demanded, making her jump slightly.
“Well,” she said hesitantly, “I was wondering how long you’ve known Logan.”
Alexander didn’t look up from his work. “Why?”
Solace straightened her back. “Because I want to know if you’re close.”
“Close enough for me to accompany him to Westhaven to find you,” he retorted.
“Oh,” she said casually. “I see. So, you’re part of his army.” It was a bluff and she didn’t know whether it would work or not. But she had to try.
He finally raised his eyes to her. But they were blank and unrevealing. He didn’t say a word, just regarded her coolly.
Solace scowled at him, unnerved by his distant demeanor. “You should try to smile sometimes,” she snapped. “It might improve your disposition.”
She whirled and stormed to the other horse to await Logan’s return.
***
That night, after a hard day’s ride, Logan sat with his back against a tall oak, dragging his dagger along a thick piece of wood he had found. His eyes, however, were not on his whittling. They were locked on Solace as she slept. She had kicked free of the blanket, even though the night wind was cold. Golden, red and orange colored leaves lay scattered around her. One red one had entangled itself in a lock of her hair which fanned out beneath her.
She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. With every ounce of his being he wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to make her the center of his universe. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he got Fulton back. Not until his revenge was complete.
Besides, what would she want with a man like him? Not even a knight. He found himself absently rubbing the brand on his cheek. A marked man. Could she ever love him? No. Not after what he had done to her home, to her. Logan was sure of it. She was using him to get to his “army.” He almost laughed out loud at the thought.
His army. The mighty, grand army awaiting him at Cavindale. He shook his head. He would have said anything to get her out of Westhaven. She was in danger, attracting attention to herself. Any fool with two eyes could see the gentle sway of her hips as she walked.
And Logan was the biggest of all fools. He was allowing himself to care for her again. She was getting in his way. A distraction of the most dangerous sort. That was why he had come a week’s journey from Cavindale. Two weeks of valuable time away from his mission. Time that could have been better spent making contacts, gathering much needed allies. From what he had learned before leaving Cavindale, Barclay was not a well-liked man. Logan had known that years ago when he’d allied himself with Barclay, but they had gotten along well enough. He had trusted Barclay. It seems I am no good at putting my trust in the right place, he thought. He vowed not to make that mistake again.
Solace turned her head, calling his attention to her. Her soft lips parted slightly and something inside Logan softened. The joy he saw for a moment on her face when she knew it was him was worth the time he had taken from his revenge, and more. He watched the slight rise and fall of her chest, and suddenly had the strongest desire to see the unbound treasures lying beneath that tunic. The leggings she wore curved around her hips and thighs, arousing him every time he glanced at her.
Logan cursed silently and looked away. Too dangerous a distraction, he reminded himself.
Suddenly, a hand clamped over his shoulder and Logan whirled, bringing the dagger up.
“Whoa!” Alexander cried, backing up a step.
Grumbling, Logan lowered the dagger. Damn, he hadn’t even heard him coming. Too much of a distraction, he thought again.
“A little jumpy today, hey, my friend?” Alexander wondered, squatting beside him.
Logan scraped the dagger across the wood again.
“We should be at Cavindale the day after tomorrow,” Alexander said, his eyes shifting to Solace. “I like her,” Alexander murmured after a quiet moment. “She had the courage to tell me I should smile more.”
Logan almost laughed out loud. “You mean she didn’t tremble under your glowering?”
“Tremble?” Alexander rumbled. “She didn’t even blink. She must be used to dark looks by now.” He cast a telling glance at Logan. “She’s worth giving up a lot for.”
“She’s dangerous,” Logan insisted.
“Dangerous?” Alexander echoed in disbelief.
“Because she is worth giving up a lot for. I don’t trust her.”
“Don’t, or can’t?”
“I don’t even trust you,” Logan replied.
“Stop flattering me,” Alexander said.
“We’ve been through a lot together,” Logan said. “You’ve got morals and as much as you’d hate to admit it, you have honor.”
“And she doesn’t?”
“I don’t. I would do anything to get my revenge. I can’t help thinking if it were me in her position, there would be no way in hell I would trust me. Not after what I did to her.”
“She’s not you. Maybe she has more confidence in you.”
Logan stood up, his eyes darkening. “Maybe she shouldn’t.”
Alexander shrugged. “She’ll find that out when your army of farmers and ale makers welcomes us home, won’t she?”
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER THIRTY
Logan rode his stallion into Cavindale with Solace sitting sidesaddle in front of him. He was pensive and quiet, waiting for her warmth and growing excitement to change into bitter hatred. He had told himself he wanted to tell her the truth about his army, but he couldn’t. Not until they reached Cavindale. Now that they were here, his dry mouth wouldn’t say the condemning words.
He could feel the anticipation simmering inside her. She didn’t want to believe him, he knew, but something inside her was trusting and naïve, and very foolish.
As they approached Cavindale Manor, Alexander spurred his steed on ahead of them.
Solace craned her lovely neck. “Where’s the army?” she wondered, scanning the surrounding hills.
Was that anxiety in her voice or was she mocking him? Logan wondered if she even knew which it was.
The roads remained empty.
Logan knew he had to tell her. He couldn’t let her go on believing. She would find out soon enough. And then it would be too late to redeem himself. It was his only chance. “Solace,” he began.
“Over there?” she asked, pointing to a slight rise.
“Solace...” Logan shook his head, but she seemed oblivious. She slid off the horse. Her feet barely struck ground before she proceeded toward the rise on a run.
He couldn’t move for a long moment. He hung his head. He would hear her disappointment soon, the hurt in her voice.
“Oh, Logan,” she sighed.
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he dismounted and walked to her side, expecting to see sorrow in those brilliant green eyes, expecting to see disappointment. “I wanted to tell you...” he started to say as he came to stand beside her.
She launched herself into his arms, her hands encircling his neck. “It’s wonderful!” she murmured.
Logan’s eyes swept the valley before him to see tent upon tent cradled be
tween the rises. Men and horses milled about everywhere. Weapons of all kinds sparkled in the sunlight.
Logan’s mouth dropped and he gasped, “My God.”
Solace lurched forward, running to greet her army. An army Logan knew nothing about. He reached out to stop her, trying to grab her arm, but she was too far away. What if it is Barclay’s army? Logan wondered fleetingly. But he knew it wasn’t. There were no colors on the tents; there were no banners flapping in the breeze.
His eyes scanned the tents again. There was nothing. No heraldry, no crests, nothing.
Suddenly, a large bellow resounded across the valley. Logan turned and drew his weapon instinctively.
***
Solace reached the bottom of the small hill when she heard the war cry and turned to see a giant man racing toward Logan, a sword raised high above his head. He had tight curly red hair crowning his massive head. His thick arms, covered with numerous scars, bulged with muscle. Solace gasped as Logan and the man collided, and she swore the ground beneath her feet trembled with the impact. She could see the strain in Logan’s corded neck as he locked swords with the man, holding him at bay.
She bolted back up the hill.
Logan almost fell over as the giant pushed off with his sword. Then the huge man grumbled and swung. Logan ducked and Solace’s heart stopped as the blade barely missed his head.
She started forward, but an arm on her wrist stopped her. She glanced up to see Alexander. He had a strange grin on his face as he watched the two men fight.
“Help him,” Solace begged Alexander. Logan’s friend didn’t move.
Logan glanced at her and the giant man punched him in the jaw, sending him back onto his bottom. Logan raised his sword in time to block the next blow. He rolled out of the way as the giant swung again. The giant’s sword lodged in the earth as Logan jumped to his feet to face the man.
Solace scanned the field for a weapon.
With a growl of rage, the giant man ripped his sword from the earth, sending a clump of dirt flying through the air. Logan sidestepped to the right as the giant swung. He deflected the next blow, losing ground to his opponent.
Alexander relaxed his grip and Solace pulled free. She ran to Logan’s horse and flipped the backpack open. She rifled through the leather pouch, searching around a blanket, finally grabbing the large stick Logan had been working on.
As she turned, she saw Logan and the giant man were battling on the top of the rise. A crowd of spectators had gathered around them. Determined to help Logan, Solace slowly climbed the hill, careful to stay out of the giant’s sight.
The giant lurched forward and Logan caught the blow, grabbing the giant’s arm.
Solace approached the giant from behind, the stick raised.
Logan’s eyes locked on the raised log and the giant kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying back just as Solace slammed the wood over the giant’s head with all her might. He toppled forward to his hands and knees.
For a long moment, all was quiet. Solace ran to Logan’s side. “Are you all right?” she asked, helping him to sit up.
A crooked grin curled Logan’s lips as Solace helped him to rise. He gazed into her eyes and ran a gentle finger across her jaw. “You’re getting pretty good at that,” he murmured before turning from her to approach the giant. “You must be slipping,” he told the big man. “This is the first time I’ve beaten you.”
The giant raised his eyes to Logan and Solace saw the trickle of blood from a cut on his head. “Ya didn’t tell me you had an accomplice.”
Logan offered the giant his hand.
“Goliath this is Solace,” Logan introduced. “Goliath is a friend.”
“A friend!” Solace repeated in disbelief.
“I tried to stop you,” Alexander murmured.
“Do you always greet friends like this?” Solace asked with chagrin.
“Goliath and I do. We always have. Ever since we met on the battlefield.”
Goliath staggered and Logan placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“The little weasel kept ducking me best blows,” Goliath complained, swiping the blood from his head with his sleeve. “If he’da kept still I woulda won.”
Logan chuckled. “We were the last ones standing. We fought until we were too exhausted to finish each other. So, instead, we became friends.”
Solace stared at them in disbelief. “And you greet each other like this all the time?”
“All the time,” Logan said, swiveling his gaze to her, a wry smile on his lips.
Solace looked away from Logan’s stare to Goliath. The trickle of blood dripped down his forehead. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s all right, lass,” Goliath responded.
She felt Logan’s gaze on her, and looked at him again. His eyes seemed to deepen to a cloudy gray, and her blood began to boil.
Logan stepped up to her. She felt protected by his closeness, his strength. But his gaze wasn’t on her; he was scanning the crowd. “Blade. McColl. John Jones. Doric. Ryder. What are you doing here?”
A light-haired man grasping a hunter’s bow stepped forward, offering Logan his arm. Logan grabbed it fiercely. “Blade,” Logan greeted with a smile. “Good to see you.”
“We came when we heard about Castle Fulton,” Blade said.
“All of you?” Logan gasped in disbelief.
“One by one,” the man named Ryder said. He stroked his long black beard. He turned his beaming gaze onto Solace as Logan stepped away from her to greet more of the men. “Who do we have here?” he asked, taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “My name is Nolan Ryder.”
Logan intercepted her hand, sliding it from Ryder’s hold. “This is Solace,” he said. “Solace Farindale.”
“Farindale?” Goliath echoed.
Solace heard the crowd of men grumble as if they were tethered wild beasts sniffing an approaching enemy. Hostility shone in the eyes of some, confusion in those of others. She swallowed down her trepidation. She was here to lead these men, and she couldn’t show fear. She had to be brave. “Yes,” she said, stepping around Logan. She had to look up to meet the shortest man’s gaze, but she did it unflinchingly. “I’m here to lead you against Baron Barclay.”
“Solace...” Logan began.
A couple of men’s brows rose in disbelief. A few others chuckled. And some shifted their gaze in silent query to Logan.
“You?” a man with a dark gruff beard and scraggly hair asked in disbelief.
“Solace, I have to talk to you,” Logan said.
A caw sounded from above him, and Solace craned her neck to see Logan’s black falcon circling above.
“Logan!” The voice boomed over the valley.
Solace followed its source to see an older man strolling toward them over the rise, his look dark and harried. “Logan! You’d better have an answer for all of these... these... men trampling my fields and harassing my people!”
Logan’s falcon alighted on his shoulder, but he barely acknowledged it as he winced at the man’s tirade, raising his eyes to Blade.
Blade shrugged. “I’m not their keeper.”
Logan shook his head and turned to greet the man. “Uncle. This wasn’t my idea. I –”
“They’re your friends, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but I had no idea they would all come here.” Logan splayed his fingers before him in a helpless gesture.
“No idea?” Solace echoed. “You knew they were here. You told me so.”
“He had no idea,” Blade said patiently. “We arrived after he left.”
An ill feeling settled unsteadily in the pit of Solace’s stomach. “After?” she murmured, turning to look at Logan. “He told me he had an army –”
“An army to eat me out of my home! If they stay, we’ll have no winter storage! We’ll starve,” Uncle Hugh ranted, his hands on his hips as he glared at Logan.
“Relax, old man,” a gruff-looking short man said. “We
already told ya we don’t need yer food.”
“Don’t call me an ‘old man,’ you worthless codger!”
Solace pulled at Logan’s arm, confusion knitting her brows. “Logan, you said you had an army.”
Logan suddenly yanked his arm free of her hold. “There is no army!” he hollered, standing amidst the group of men. “I lied to you to get you to Cavindale. To make you stop that stupid plan of yours!”
Solace pulled back as if he had slapped her. She had known he was lying, but to hear it from his lips wounded her as no dagger ever could.
The falcon nipped hard at Logan’s shoulder, drawing blood through his tunic. He shrugged his shoulder so hard the bird took flight.
Alexander chuckled. “It looks like your feathered friend doesn’t like your attitude.”
Logan whirled on his uncle, his face a mask of anger. “They’ll restock your stores! They’ll replow the fields! They’ll stop harassing your people!” His fists were clenched tightly, his jaw taut with fury.
Everything stopped, everything froze. Logan’s friends stared at him in shock; Uncle Hugh’s mouth hung open. Logan stood under the gazes of all for a moment before whirling and heading down the hill.
The falcon flew to a nearby tree and perched on a branch, watching Logan storm off with impassive eyes.
THE LADY AND THE FALCONER
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
There was only one thing that calmed Logan when he was angry.
“You ready?” Alexander wondered.
Logan stared at the blade in his hand. He had dragged Alexander into the field near Cavindale’s northern border, desperate to vent his raging anxiety. He twisted the sword slightly, watching the sunlight reflect off the polished blade. He thought about --
-- striking. He swung the weapon at Alexander, aiming for his head. Alexander easily blocked the blow with his own blade. “Why so angry, Grey?” Alexander taunted, sidestepping another swing. “Because Hugh is so furious with you?”
Logan grunted. “Hardly,” he snapped, arcing his weapon toward Alexander’s blabbering mouth.
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