by Kim Allred
When he had the estate to himself, his servants knew a different man. And that difference was what made most of them loyal to him. How loyal was now a valid question. He'd been gone a long time, even with an estate manager to care for things. For now, he would have to draw on friends from town and nearby farms. So far, they'd been eager to help. Considering what he knew of his half-brother and Dugan, Beckworth would seem a fairy godfather.
The knowledge of the area was key to his current dilemma. After racing down the main road for two miles, he veered toward a smaller road and ran his horse against the brush, hoping to make a well-seen path. He turned to glance back and found Lando directing his mount through the brush on the other side of the trail.
Beckworth smiled. The big man was as sneaky and dangerous as he looked.
Another quarter mile and the path widened. A few hundred yards after that, Beckworth stopped. He couldn't hear anything beyond the horse's heavy snorting.
"You hear anything?" he asked Lando.
Lando nodded. "They're not far behind."
Beckworth smiled. "Like whores to Mrs. Brubaker's meat pies."
"I've eaten her pies. We would send boys down to the quarter to buy them by the dozens." He chuckled. "Now I know why they returned with such large smiles."
Beckworth grinned with a dreamy sigh. "Ah, the lasses loved to trade for pies."
Lando nudged him. "We leave these men now?"
"And parting is such sweet sorrow," he recited. At Lando's raised brow, he laughed. "You can learn much about life through Shakespeare, my good man." He directed his horse between two trees before breaking into a trot down a narrow trail. He slowed the horse as he switched from one trail to another. Lando followed in silence.
They kept a steady pace until they reached a wide road. The two men scanned the area before crossing. Four men on horseback sat under an oak tree just north of the junction.
"Damn. I didn't think they'd have men this far west," Beckworth grumbled.
"All of our work weaving to stay ahead of them gave his men time to get ahead of us."
"It seems Dugan has grown his little army. Surprising with a war on."
"So they're either lazy, or they're mercenaries."
"And some a combination, but these particular men don't appear careless." Beckworth scratched his chin, then glanced at Lando.
"Agreed. We move south and find another place to cross." Lando turned his horse without waiting for Beckworth's response.
Beckworth watched Dugan's men while Lando found a trail heading the right direction. When it appeared no one had spotted them, Beckworth turned to follow Lando. He'd always cursed Murphy for having good men at his back. Now he was grateful.
They crossed the road a mile farther south without incident. After another switchback of trails, Beckworth circled back until they broke out into a narrow field with an old barn. Right under the noses of Dugan's men.
When they reached the barn, Beckworth's shoulders eased as he monitored the path for visitors. The barn carried a vacant feel, but they split up as they approached the aged structure. Beckworth dismounted and, searching the dirt in front of the door, was satisfied that no one had been there recently. He swung the barn door wide.
Lando rode his horse into the barn while Beckworth retrieved his before closing the door behind them.
Lando frowned. "They should have arrived before us."
Beckworth didn't respond as he tied his horse to a post that seemed solid enough. "They're probably just being careful. And they don't have the benefit of knowing exactly where they're going."
Lando grunted in a tone that said he wasn't buying it.
Beckworth couldn't argue the point, but there was nothing to do but wait.
32
Finn walked his horse around the perimeter of the barn, searching for evidence of passage, either human or animal. He'd neither seen nor heard anyone since slipping past the last patrol. Yet, with the barn being so close to the junction, he couldn't take a chance.
He glanced down at AJ, her face peaceful in sleep. The knot in his belly tightened. If she were just asleep, then why couldn't he wake her?
After circling the building, he turned his mount so they faced the door and waited. After a moment, the door creaked, and a man filled the opening. Finn sighed and squeezed AJ closer as he clucked to move the horse forward.
Lando patted the horse as Finn rode by then closed the door. Finn stopped to wait until his sight adjusted to the darkness.
"Thank heavens. We thought you'd been caught." Maire ran to Finn with Ethan close behind, each reaching up for AJ. "Does anyone have any water?"
Finn dropped a skin in her hands then dismounted. He released the horse to find the others tied to a post. He scanned the barn. "Where's Beckworth?"
"He went to look for you." Lando spoke over his shoulder as he peered through a gap in the boards.
The group remained silent and watched Maire pull a tiny, folded parchment from the sleeve of her dress. Ethan scrounged in saddlebags until he found a tin cup. He squatted next to Maire as she poured water from the skin and tapped white powder from the parchment into the cup.
Finn sat on the ground and braced AJ's upper body against his chest. With Ethan's help, Maire forced drops of the liquid into her mouth. After the first few drops, AJ began to drink, though she never opened her eyes. When Finn laid her down, AJ remained unresponsive.
Maire touched his shoulder. "Just give her time."
Fifteen minutes later, Lando shifted at the door. He kept his eye to the boards until Finn heard the horse, then Lando opened the door to admit Beckworth.
"I should have known you'd find your way." Beckworth rode up to the group but didn't dismount. "I've been watching the men at the junction. Definitely not Dugan's best, but they're smarter than most. My best guess is they're unfamiliar with the area, or they would have someone patrolling this barn. Our luck is with us for now."
"Is it safe to leave?" Lando asked.
Beckworth glanced down at AJ. "Probably not, but I don't feel comfortable being this close to them." He pointed his chin at AJ. "And she needs medical aid. The travel on the road has increased, which should keep Dugan's men busy, but when that quiets down in an hour or so, they may begin checking the side roads. I suggest we leave now."
"You have a destination in mind?" Finn asked as he and Ethan stood AJ up.
Finn's spirits rose when she managed to hold a portion of her own weight and squinted at her surroundings. His mood soured as Lando passed an already-sleeping AJ into his arms. Tired of worrying, he eagerly clutched to the slim hope her brief sliver of awareness had given him. Her few seconds of wakefulness were more than he'd seen since leaving the cells.
Beckworth watched the group mount their horses. "I have a thought to the best place to go. Assuming the man's still alive."
"You're not sure?" Ethan's tone testified to his frustration tinged with fear for the women.
Finn battled the same emotions. He was angry, concerned about Dugan's men, and terrified about AJ's injury. However, badgering Beckworth when he knew the area wasn't the best idea.
"I haven't been home for months. It's the best option I can think of." He leaned over his saddle, arms crossed on the horn. "Of course, if you have a better option, I'm all ears."
Ethan and Beckworth glowered at each other until Lando broke in. "You've gotten us this far. We trust you."
Finn's brows scrunched together at Lando's comment. He hated to admit his friend was right, though trust might be the wrong word. They were almost clear. Now was not the time to test alliances, regardless of the strangeness of bedfellows.
Lando opened the barn door then mounted, taking the rear position.
Instead of turning north or south as Finn expected, Beckworth led them farther west, away from Waverly, Eleanor, and the town.
"You're sure about this?" Finn asked as he pushed his horse to ride next to Beckworth.
Beckworth waited a beat then nodded before
kicking his mount faster.
Finn let his horse fall back, leaving Ethan and Maire to stay close to Beckworth. Finn stared down at AJ's unconscious form. Deep concern for her marred his happiness at finding her. If only Ethan and he hadn't been stopped by French soldiers. If only she had waited for him at the monastery. He could berate himself all day long and into the night, but it wouldn't change what happened. And regret wouldn't solve their current situation.
Lando followed a hundred yards behind them, occasionally stopping to see if anyone followed. When the group reached a wide road, they had to wait ten minutes until Lando caught up with them. Once Lando arrived and confirmed they were still clear, they crossed the road quickly, then traveled for another mile before turning right down an overgrown deer trail.
"Are you lost, little man?" Lando called out when Beckworth slowed. He twisted his head at something only he heard, then after a second, rode up close behind Finn's horse.
"You need to stop calling me that. And no. I'm not lost. The man who owns this land doesn't like surprises."
"Then why did you bring us here?" Ethan growled.
Maire's head rested against his back, and Finn caught the squeeze of her arms around Ethan's middle. Even half-asleep, she attempted to calm him.
"This is safer than my original choice."
Ethan glanced back at Finn. Neither of them knew the nature of Beckworth's motivation, and with no other option at hand, Finn shook his head. They would keep to Beckworth's plan for now.
When they reached a dilapidated gate, they stopped. Dozens of skulls hung from a massive winter-barren tree. Most were from a mix of animals—dog, deer, boar, and even bear. But several human skulls hung between the others, the bones bleached white from time and exposure.
The gate didn't appear to have worked for decades, but Beckworth stopped in front of it before calling out, "It's Beckworth. I have friends and gold."
The other men shifted in their seats, causing the horses to sidestep.
"I thought you said this was a friend." Finn reined in his mount.
"He is. He's just a bit nervous with new people."
"Maybe we should have tried for a town." Finn glanced at Ethan and Lando. Ethan stared at the skulls and appeared ready to bolt, but Maire studied them. Finn shook his head, knowing her rapt attention to the skulls stemmed from fascination rather than fear or disgust.
"This is a better option." He looked down at AJ. "We need to get her to a safe place where she can be seen by someone with medical experience."
"A witch doctor?" Ethan asked.
Beckworth shrugged. "He's been called that and many other things." When he noticed the men's nervous glances, he heaved a sigh. "I know you lot don't trust me, but if I wanted to do her harm, I had plenty of opportunity before you arrived. And I could have just as easily set you up rather than risk my life to save the women. Now shut up until we reach the cabin. You should be grateful the old codger's reputation for being mad as a hatter overshadows his ability to cure anything." He glanced up at the skulls. "Almost anything."
Beckworth turned away from the group. He'd made a decision on their behalf, and they could either trust him and follow or go their own way. Finn pushed hair out of AJ's face. She should have woken by now. There wasn't any choice.
"I know it's been a while," Beckworth called out. "I'd love to tell you about my travels."
After another minute, a branch rustled, and a lad, somewhere in his late teens, popped his head out from behind a tree. "How do I know it's really you?"
Beckworth chuckled. "Who else would have knocked you from that foul-smelling donkey?"
The boy moved farther out from behind the tree. He tilted his head to one side and scratched his cheek as he thought about Beckworth's response. Then he laughed. "You've been gone a long time. Old Bart thought someone finally hung you."
The lad approached the group, giving each person a long and thoughtful look. When his gaze lit on the woman in Finn's arms, he straightened up. "Is she injured?"
When Beckworth nodded, the boy rushed to open the makeshift gate. They followed him for several hundred yards as the path twisted through the dense trees before opening up to a clearing with a cabin, a barn, and several other outbuildings.
A hunched man limped through the front door to stand at the outer edge of the covered porch. He leaned against a cane as frail in appearance as him. Wrinkles formed the olive-toned canvas of his face. His hair, what there was of it, had faded to a dull gray, but his light brown eyes were as clear and inquisitive as a two-year-old's.
"Well, bring her in. I can't look her over from here."
33
Finn rushed into the spacious cabin, a listless AJ in his arms. He scanned the interior, searching for the best place to lay her down. A kitchen ran along the right side of the expansive interior. A table that could fit a dozen could be used as a last resort. The cluttered living space to his left was filled with chairs, sofas, and various-sized tables. Every surface was piled with books, clothing, or other odd paraphernalia.
The lad who'd led them from the gate had preceded Finn in and now waved at him from another door at the back of the cabin. The back room wasn't large, but it was cleaner than the rest of the old man's house. The lad pointed to the cot on the far side of the room.
Finn laid AJ down then brushed back her hair. Her soft mumbles had to be a good sign. He was surprised he heard them at all over the hammering of his heart. The threat of Dugan's men might not be gone, but they were no longer the immediate concern.
The boy brought a blanket and helped Finn cover AJ. "Bart will be in soon. He's talking with the other woman."
Finn nodded. He sat next to the cot and opened the top portion of her dress, wanting to ensure her breathing wasn't restricted. He smoothed his hand down the back of her head, grateful not to find fresh blood.
"What's her name?" The boy had moved to a hearth Finn hadn't noticed when they'd entered, and he removed a kettle from the pothook.
"AJ."
"That's an odd name." He poured water into a metal bowl. He added a couple drops of a clear liquid then placed the bowl on a stand next to the cot. He handed Finn a clean rag.
"It's a nickname. Short for Abigail." Finn wasn't sure why he was explaining anything, but the conversation masked his panic. He dunked the rag in the warm water. A slight tingle skittered across his skin where it touched the water, and a pleasant pine scent tickled his nose.
"She doesn't really look like an Abigail. AJ seems to suit her."
Finn could only nod as he wiped dirt from AJ's face, his anger surging when he noticed the bruise on her cheek had darkened. "What's your name?"
The boy laughed. "You can call me Lincoln."
Finn glanced up at him. "That's an unusual name as well."
"I know. Not like Old Bart." He started for the door, then turned. "Bart might seem a bit odd, but he knows his healing." Lincoln shut the door behind him.
Finished with her face, neck, and arms, Finn began the task of cleaning around her head wound. He placed the rag against her hair, gently soaking the dried blood away. He remembered when she'd done the same for him the first time he'd brought her to this century. They'd been crossing the sea to England on the Daphne Marie when a storm overtook them. He'd been hit on the head by falling debris, and she'd dressed his wound. He'd been barely conscious, but he'd still been able to feel her warm lips on his forehead.
Once the wound was cleaned, he glowered at the door, irritated by how long it was taking this Bart fellow. He leaned down and kissed AJ's forehead, breathing in the pine scent from whatever had been in the water. "I'm sorry I was late. You wouldn't believe the traffic. I would have stopped at Donna's to get your favorite pie, but…" He stopped and pressed his head to hers. "I miss you, wife. Wake up and yell at me. Tell me about your journey. Tell me how much you missed me, and I'll tell you how sorry I am for bringing us back here."
He reached for her hand and turned it over, running a thumb over her palm
. "Maire once tried to teach me how to read palms. I don't think I ever told you that." He ran a finger along her life line. "I never put much stock in it, but I think if Maire were to read yours, she would say this isn't the end. Your life line is strong. We have so many more adventures waiting for us. Wake up, my love." He kissed her cheek when something scratched at his hand.
He pulled back, AJ's hand still in his. Her fingers slowly curled. His heartbeat quickened. "AJ? Can you hear me?"
"Gulls." The single word slipped from her lips before her fingers relaxed.
Finn stood and started for the doorway, then yelled at it instead. "Bart, get in here before I come out there and drag you in by your ears." Then he dropped back into his chair. "Tell me about the gulls, AJ."
The squawking of gulls broke through AJ's slumber. The familiar cacophony lasted only a second, but it was enough to force her awake. Everything was dark, but she was too tired to pry her eyes open. Her head ached, but it no longer pounded.
She thought she'd heard Finn's voice just before the gulls. He'd been carrying her. She remembered being jostled, then the stabbing pain until she didn't remember anything at all.
Her stomach hurt when she breathed, but she couldn't remember why it would. She moved a toe as she took an assessment of her body. Had it moved? She tried another toe and felt resistance. Not knowing what that meant, she moved on to her arms. They reminded her of fallen tree limbs, damp and heavy from winter rains. But other than the light twinge in her belly, her head seemed to be her primary malady.
Then she felt his lips. His warm voice washed over her but only a few words registered—pie, palm, wife. Finn. His cedar scent mixed with that of pine. Were they in a forest? Maybe she was delirious from brain damage.
Lips brushed against her forehead, her cheek, her lips.
She reached for him, but her arms wouldn't move. Was that his hand? She was sure of it. Then the gulls returned. Where were they?
