Trust In Love: A Love Mark Romance

by Linda Kage

  Elliot, the dragon, was gone now, but I’m sure the fear—and maybe even hate—he’d instilled in these people was not.

  “Poor lamb,” the driver said as the other two hopped off their wagon to assist me. “We’re headed to Vance. The forest is just on the other side. So we can take you that far at least.”

  “How far away is Vance?” I asked cautiously, for I didn’t want to stay overnight with strangers and risk letting my guard down around them long enough to fall asleep in their presence. Farrow had taught me that trust should not be so easily given to anyone.

  So, when they answered, “About a half to three-quarters of a day’s ride from here,” I relaxed.

  “That would be most kind of you, then,” I said. “Thank you.”

  My hands went to the richly jeweled necklace at my throat. “I could pay you with—”

  But all three men shook their heads in rejection. “No, no, miss. What kind of self-respecting men would we be if we didn’t give assistance to a wee woman as you, traveling alone? I’ve a daughter of my own; we’re on our way to her wedding, in fact. And it would turn my stomach to learn no one helped her if she ever found herself in a similar situation.”

  I smiled softly. “I completely understand. And congratulations to you and yours.”

  “Let me get your pack for you, miss,” one of the men said, hurrying forward.

  “I’ll help you onto the wagon,” the other readily offered.

  At least they seemed respectable, honest, and considerate. But I remained alert and ready to use the Colt to defend myself if that changed.

  I spent a good portion of the day with Jax, Max, and Pax, as the three men were called. I soon learned they were brothers, two bachelors and a widower.

  Max’s daughter, the one who was to be married, had been sent to live with the men’s sister when she was young because Max had wanted the best for her and hadn’t thought he would do a good job, raising her by himself after his wife died in childbirth, but I rather thought he would’ve made a fine single parent. All three men treated me with fatherly deference; any one of them would’ve been a decent family man. During our time together, they fed me, saw to my comfort, and told me entertaining stories of their lives.

  Through them, I realized the people of Far Shore were actually no different than those of Donnelly. By the time we reached Vance, I felt I had three new friends.

  “Here,” I told Max, tugging a dress from my pack. I’d planned to marry Farrow in it when I’d packed it in Donnelly, but that certainly wasn’t going to happen any time soon. And Max had spoken of how upset his daughter was because she couldn’t even afford a new dress for her wedding.

  “It’s been in the Cull,” I lamented, “and needs a good washing, but it would still make a fine dress to be wed in, if you think your daughter would like it.”

  “Like it?” Max exclaimed, his eyes wide as he reverently took the gown from me and studied it. “She’ll probably burst forth in tears from its overwhelming beauty. I’ll be the best father of the bride in the entire village if I showed up with this in tow. It looks fit for a princess to be married in.”

  “Aye,” I murmured sadly as I silently said goodbye to the dress.

  Max noticed my melancholy and paused. “But I can’t take this from you, child. You—”

  “No,” I told him firmly. “Please take it, for I no longer need it.”

  His eyes filled with pity as he likely assumed I was mourning a dead husband. “She’ll cherish it, I’m sure,” he assured me.

  “Good.” I hugged him in farewell. “That makes everything worth it. Take care, Max.” I turned toward the other two. “Take care, all of you.”

  Both Pax and Jax offered to escort me all the way to my family, but I insisted they stay and watch their niece’s wedding.

  The men plied me with food and drink before I departed from them, and then I was once again alone.

  I made my way through the village of Vance, not pausing or making eye contact with anyone. When I reached the trees of Dimway, anxiety cramped my stomach. I’d long ago moved out of range of Farrow, so I couldn’t sense his nearness or emotions in my mark, anymore—not that the stubborn, closed-off man would let me see his feelings, anyway—but a nagging sensation kept telling me to turn around and go the other way. Return to him.

  “Shut up,” I hissed to the stupid sensation. “We’re going our separate ways until he learns his damn lesson and can treat me like a proper mate.”

  But with that spiteful mutter, I winced with unease. Was I returning home now merely because my pride had been besmirched? Because my feelings had been hurt? Because I felt like a silly, young idiot girl for so quickly and willingly buying into every lie he ever told me?

  Because I did feel all that. But if that was the only reason for my actions, then I felt rather vain.

  He was a liar, I tried to remind myself. The man could not be trusted. He’d let me put all my faith in him without reciprocating in the least, playing me for a fool.

  And yet…

  He had good, solid, sound reasons for his lies, usually an altruistic bent for them, too. He was always so determined to save someone else. He hadn’t even taken my innocence in a ruthless, selfish manner. He’d tried to stay away and protect me as much as he could from his own deceit. And I don’t know if that excused or pardoned him, but it seemed worthy enough to note.

  I also felt bad about delaying him from his quest to save Sable. It felt wrong that she should have to suffer because he’d burned my pride and hurt my feelings. I hoped it hadn’t taken him long to find that key.

  Stomach tensing with anxiety, every instinct I had screamed for me to turn around and return to him, while my brain told me what an epically stupid decision that would be. He needed time to learn how to trust first, and I needed to process this new development of learning he was a fallible human and not yet the man I needed him to be.

  I paused and debated.

  Should I give us time apart to learn who we were separately, or help save a child’s life?

  Well, when put that way, the choice seemed rather obvious.

  I’d already been gone this long from home, anyway. What would another couple of weeks mean? As soon as I helped Farrow save his sister, I could still return home then until we both matured enough to start the rest of our lives together.

  I was about to turn around, my mind made up, when I heard a commotion ahead.

  My hand immediately went to my pocket. Hoping it was another set of travelers like the three brothers Max, Jax, and Pax, but preparing for the worst, I eased up against a tree to blend in, and I craned my neck around to seek the source.

  Evening had fallen, so it was growing hard to see well, but I squinted and strained until finally, I spotted a bit of blurry movement to my left. Horses and men moved about, around—

  What the devil was that they’d built?

  Needing a better view, I dashed forward to the safety of more trees that were closer to whatever was going on so I could determine if the newcomers were a threat or not.

  “High Cliff scum,” were the first distinguishable words to reach my ears, however. “We should burn that filthy tattoo right off the side of your face before we end your miserable life.”

  I slowed to a stop when I realized they’d captured a High Clifter. They’d tied the poor sot up to a pile of stacked wood, where they were going to burn him at the stake.

  I immediately sought my own mark with my fingers, hoping it remained concealed.

  The lead tormentor waved a lit torch in his captive’s face. “It’s the fault of your people that we’re so destitute, you know. King Torrance drained our coffers to pay for the war you caused by stealing our alliance with Donnelly. Now my children are starving in the streets.”

  “Aye,” another voice called from the group. “And I lost two of my brothers in those damn battles.”

  “Sounds like a problem you should take up with your king, then, not me,” the High Cliff man said mil
dly, as if he weren’t concerned in the least about the imminent threat to his life.

  My eyebrows furrowed over that voice, though. It was odd, but he sounded exactly like—

  But that couldn’t be.

  Could it?

  “Well, the fucking king isn’t here right now,” the enraged Far Shore man growled. “And you are.”

  I darted to another tree to see the High Clifter’s face. But I could already tell who he was.

  My mouth fell open. What in the world was Indigo doing here?

  “Light him up,” came the roar from the mob.

  Oh, hell. He was about to be burned to a crisp.

  “No!” I shouted, leaping out from behind my tree. “Stop!”

  Surprisingly, they did. About a dozen faces turned to gape at me incredulously.

  “Where did you come from?” someone in the crowd asked just as Indigo jerked his face up from atop the cone-shaped pile of wood he was tied on top of and gasped, “Nicolette?!”

  “Who the fuck are you?” the man dumbly holding the torch asked as he jabbed his fire in my direction.

  “You heard your captive,” I supplied. “I’m Nicolette. And this High Clifter belongs to me. So you’ll kindly release him now or pay the consequences.”

  I dramatically pulled the Colt from my pocket and aimed it at the torch-holder’s head.

  He blinked at me. When he decided the small, blunt metal tube I pointed at him held no threat, he threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

  “What do you plan to do to me with that thing, you loony bitch? Poke me in the arse with it?”

  As the rest of the mob began to cackle, I sighed impatiently and rolled my eyes. Some people had no imagination, I swear. When I glanced toward Indigo, he shook his head as if agreeing with my assumption.

  Stopping soon enough, the ruffian waved his torch. “Someone grab this crazy bit of fluff. We’ll have a little fun with her before burning her with her High Cliff lover.”

  “No!” Indigo shouted as three men immediately stalked toward me. “Nic, run.”

  Oh, please. Ignoring my bodyguard’s directive, I shifted the aim of my Colt to the man closing in on me the fastest, and I shot him through the head. The second, I caught through the heart.

  The third pulled up short, raising his hands in surrender as the resounding report of the Colt still echoed through the trees and his two friends fell dead at his feet.

  “What the hell?” one of the others in the horde behind him murmured in awe.

  I focused the Colt back on the torch-holder. “Now,” I started again. “As I was saying, free my brother before I unleash the power of my beast on everyone else here, starting with you.”

  The torchbearer backed away, then dropped the torch and stomped out the flame before he turned and fled.

  In unison, the others followed suit, surging away from me as fast as they could.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “I said free him, you morons.”

  Every single runner paused. Then, they returned to Indigo in a rush, fumbling to cut the ropes from his hands.

  A refreshed sigh left Indy’s lungs as soon as he was liberated. He brought his arms around to his front and rubbed at his red, raw wrists before he jumped down from the top of the pyre and stepped right into the face of the now-meek mob leader.

  “I believe this is my sword.” He snatched it from the other man’s side and slid it home into his own scabbard, staying in the other man’s face the entire time and grinning smugly.

  “Now go,” I told the mob. “Before I lose my mercy.”

  They bolted, racing toward their horses and fleeing, even as they were still trying to climb into their saddles.

  As they scattered, Indigo checked on the two dead men that the others had abandoned, relieving one of a dagger he found. Then he finally turned to me with a ready smile.

  “God damn, my lady,” he greeted. “But it’s good to see you. Looks like our target practice worked, huh?” He glanced at the dead men again. “Excellent aim.”

  I blinked, unimpressed by his cheerful praise as I put the Colt away. “Did it not even occur to you to at least try to hide your mark when you entered enemy land? Maybe attempt to blend in with the locals?”

  The idea made Indy snort. “I don’t hide who I am.”

  Shaking my head slowly, I said, “What are you doing here, Indigo?”

  “Oh, you know,” he started conversationally. “I heard the weather was nice in Far Shore this time of year.” Then he rolled his eyes. “What do you think I’m doing here? My ward said she was coming here, so here I am. You may not recall, but my job happens to be seeing to your security. Literally, protecting you is my only task in life. And that’s what I plan to do.”

  I let out a deflated sigh. “Oh, Indy.”

  “Don’t you oh, Indy me,” he snapped. “Just because you decided to run off in the middle of the night doesn’t mean my duties end there. I am your bodyguard, and I will continue to be just that for a long time to come. Do you hear me?”

  “I didn’t just run off willy-nilly,” I muttered, growing a little less sure of myself. “As I said in my note—”

  “And don’t get me started on that bloody pathetic note. I can’t believe you left that way. How could you do that to me? To your family?”

  I cringed. “How did they take it?”

  “I’ve no fucking idea,” he exploded. “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. As soon as I read what you’d written, I scribbled out my own note, saying I’d gone after you, and I took off, too. We left you alone all that next morning, thinking you were still upset about what happened the night before and were barricading yourself in your room. When you didn’t come down for lunch, I finally decided to check on you. But you were long gone by then.”

  I sighed and rubbed a spot on the center of my head. “I didn’t want to leave that way, but I thought it would be the safest route for Farrow.”

  I broke off abruptly when Indigo narrowed his eyes.

  “Yes, speaking of Farrow.” He glanced around the forest before returning his attention to me. “Where is this true love bastard of yours, anyway?”

  “Don’t call him that,” I warned.

  He sniffed and stepped closer to me, squinting at the coverage over my tattoo. “I can’t see whether you’ve lost your mark or not under all that muck to know if he still lives. I’m kind of hoping he is, as I’ve the urge to kill him myself. Because what kind of cowardly bastard—yes, bastard—steals a woman away in the middle of the night without even trying to properly meet her family first?”

  “Well, he couldn’t rightly introduce himself to them when he thought he was—”

  When he thought he’d been kidnapping me out from under their noses.

  Oh bother. What a mess. No way was my family ever going to accept him now.

  My bottom lip trembled. “Dammit, Indy,” I sobbed suddenly. Crumbling, I rushed against his chest, squeezing my arms around him because I needed something from home right now to make me feel better more than I needed anything. “Everything is so messed up,” I confessed, soaking the front of his tunic. “I think I made a huge mistake.”

  “Of course, you did,” he murmured lovingly and wrapped his arms around me. “You always make the most spectacular of mistakes, I swear.”

  I bubbled out a laugh, only to burst forth crying even harder than before.

  Indigo let me weep on him until everything inside me was dry. After that, he listened quietly without interrupting as I told him the whole story, the good and the bad. I only left out the intimate parts that were none of his business.

  When I was finished, he merely nodded, thoughtfully digesting my tale. He didn’t scream or rage at me, telling me what an idiot I’d been or lecture me about how my rash actions always got me into trouble. He must’ve known there was no need. My lesson was learned.

  Squeezing my hand, he merely said, “Well, all right, then. I guess that door’s closed. Let’s go home to your family
now.”

  But when he started to tug me toward his horse, I pulled up short, shaking my head. “Except, no,” I said. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  He paused, sending me an odd look. “Excuse me, what?”

  “I’m not going home,” I announced, straightening my back.

  “What do you mean, you’re not going home?” Indigo stepped toward me. “Hell yes, you’re going home. I’m taking you there right now.”

  “Indigo,” I tried. “That girl needs help. She’s Farrow’s sister, and he loves her. When I don’t show up at the castle with him, her life will be forfeit. Because of me. I can’t do that to her. She’s an innocent child.”

  “So, then—what—you just want to turn yourself in to King Torrance to save her?”

  “Of course not,” I muttered. “But I can do something. I can fight for her, help Farrow try to sneak her out of the dungeon. Anything. I can’t just do nothing.”

  “You’re seriously going to return to him? Just like that?”

  “I—” I sent him a short frown. “Just because we’re on the outs doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help him. And who knows…” I shrugged, feeling hope where I probably shouldn’t. “Maybe this’ll help repair what’s wrong with us. And if not…” I nodded to him. “Then you and I can go home afterward until he improves his values.”

  “We?” He arched one eyebrow, and I realized I’d just included him in my mission to help Sable without his consent.

  Splaying out a hand, I said, “Not that I’m forcing you to accompany me, of course. You can return home now if you like. I’ll do this by myself. But I am doing it.”

  Scowling, he stiffened his spine over such a suggestion, even as he growled, “Some other kingdom’s princess is not our problem, Nic. What happened to her was terrible, but you can’t save everyone.”

  I ignored him for a moment to concentrate on shimmying my pack off my shoulders and securing it to one of the dead men’s horses. Then I hauled myself up into the saddle and finally glanced at my bodyguard. “Maybe I can’t, but I’m at least going to try to save her.”