"The book is still probably at my home. I am not certain if it—"
"You will take me there!" She leaned so close they almost touched noses.
"It is a long walk. I haven't been there for a while."
"You will take me there, shepherd! Promise me!" Small tears beaded in the corners of her eyes.
The last two words hung in the air, and Timothy hesitated. How many times did he hear those words from his mother?
"Promise me," she said.
He sighed. I am a fool. I won't be able to leave it at just telling her where the town is. I will end up going with her too. Aunt Mae raised him too well. There was always another mile to walk. "I promise I will see you home."
Kit leaned back and crossed her knees, the tension slipping from her. "I will hold you to your word. Do not think I will not. Perhaps we should seal it in blood?"
"What? No!"
"I joke. I believe you will keep your word. So why do you not visit your home?"
Timothy shrugged. "I visit every year or so."
"You don't get along with your family?" She held up a finger. "It's your mother, isn't it? You look like a mother's boy."
Timothy said nothing.
"It is! Well, this time you can show off your wife!"
Timothy rubbed his face. "Ugh, after Aunt Mae sees you, you will actually be my wife."
"You get the better end of that deal, Timmy," Kit said. "I only get a has-been shepherd." Her ears flicked.
"The story was your idea. You could simply be my sister."
Kit laid a finger on her chin. "Now that is a scandalous story! An ugly brother and beautiful sister traveling the world alone! It will cause no end of trouble for you should men think I am your sister."
"Yes. Well, I think I have trouble enough." Timothy sprawled on the straw. He yawned. "I need to sleep."
"I cannot sleep in that. The straw will stick to my lovely fur, and fleas like to hide in it." Kit wagged a finger at Timothy. "You will wash before you get near me with your fleas, shepherd!"
Heavy weights of exhaustion pulled at Timothy's eyelids. "Then sleep perched on that barrel." A yawn cracked his jaw. "Good night."
He hoped his promise would not turn into a mistake. Hunters were the worst of her troubles, right?
"Sleep well, my shepherd."
Chapter 5
"Wake up! Timothy. Wake. Up."
Timothy bolted upright. Kit's fingers dug into his shoulders. "What is it? Is it the hunters?" He scrambled to stand. His vision spun from sitting upright too fast.
"I need breakfast." A single sharp tooth poked through her grin.
Timothy flopped back into the straw. "Don't do that to me. I thought they caught us."
"You will wish they caught us if I don't eat soon." Kit sat on her knees in the straw. The white fur on the tip of Kit's tail teased his nose.
"I thought you didn't want my fleas."
She hissed and snatched back her tail. She combed through the white tip with her fingers. Cat stretched.
"No fleas. Lucky for you." Kit rose to her feet. She still wore only the brown shift. A few beads of sweat clung to her forehead. Timothy wiped his own brow. Would the heat of summer ever end?
"Now go earn some food! I want more raspberries!"
"Why don't you earn it?" Timothy worked a knot in his shoulder.
Kit leaned in so the shift fell open at the neckline. "I will in my own way."
"Will you stop that!"
Kit laughed. "Our teasing truce ended with the sunrise."
Timothy staggered to his feet. "Fine. I'll go." He jammed his shirt into his trousers and stalked toward the barn door. "I just saw a flea jump from your ear."
Kit squeaked and tugged at her ears. Timothy grinned. Served her right.
Timothy found Abel across the field mending a fence that was beyond mending. Despite the stoop in his back, the farmer stood taller than Timothy. The man reminded him of a tree that stood in his favorite pasture.
"You're looking better, lad. Still tired, but better. Hope your red slept well."
"Better than since we started our travel. She wants some breakfast. Oh, and I am grateful for the clothes." Timothy adjusted his collar. At least Kit's short shift covered better than that blanket. Now if only she would put on the rest of the clothes Abel provided.
"So you're looking to get to wherever you be going. I made some morning meal with berries for you on the porch. Can't be having you starving on me. Anise would have my hide when I see her again."
"Actually, we would like to stay for a few days if you don't mind. Of course, we will work to earn our meals. I am not in a hurry to take her home with me yet."
"Oh, I see, lad. Your mother and pap haven't yet seen her, eh? I remember my boys being the same with their ladies. Anise and me never were for forcing weddings. Made my boys think about who they chased." Abel smiled.
"Yeah, you could say that." Timothy ran his fingers through his hair.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you work. Plenty to do around here. Work gets ahead of me nowadays."
"I will first feed my…my wife and then join you."
"You can start with scything the field over there."
Timothy swallowed his sigh. He needed more sleep. His nerves felt frayed.
Abel was as good as his word. Two bowls of porridge waited with fresh wild raspberries and blackberries. Timothy finished his before he made it to the barn.
"Breakfast!" Kit wrenched the bowl out of his hands before he was through the barn's door. She wore the clothes Abel provided. The simple cream blouse with a laced neckline hugged her, and a long skirt of deep green ended at Kit's ankles. A matching green scarf hid her ears. Cat brushed past him on her way to her own breakfast.
"Berries are truly wonderful!"
"Well, you should be able to enjoy them for at least two more days," Timothy said.
She spluttered. "What! We are supposed to be going to your home. You promised!"
Timothy wiped porridge from his face and breathed deeply. His voice still sounded strained to his ears. "We will. There is no hurry. We still have people hunting us, remember? I doubt they will look for us on a run-down farm like this. They will know you will want to stay away from people and the main roads."
"The fat man is more resourceful than I want to admit. You make sense, shepherd. He will expect me to keep to the woods." She pulled at her red locks. "I will stand out."
She skewered him with her gaze.
"What? I didn't do anything."
"Not yet! But I know how twisted a shepherd's mind can be. Do not think I will be easy prey one night. You will not worm out of your promise either."
The quip struck a nerve. Maybe it was the strain of events or the unexpected shift in conversation or being scared awake, but Timothy felt his calm shatter.
"That is not something to joke about! I am not that way. I keep my word!"
Her spoon froze on her lips. Her smile withered.
"I have work to do." He banged the barn door shut. How dare she accuse him of being a promise breaker!
Abel kept Timothy too busy for his anger to hang on for long. The farm showed its long history in how much needed to be done. Timothy spent an itchy morning scything the brown hay field and bundling it for storage.
Timothy leaned on the scythe and drank from a water skin, his shirt soaked with sweat. The scent of grass clung to his nostrils. He felt bad for snapping at Kit. She had to be feeling more strain than he was. He needed to apologize. Timothy looked at the late summer sky and wiped his brow.
Then he heard the dogs.
Timothy's breath caught. His hands tightened on the scythe.
A leathery farmer sauntered out of the fields with a pair of hounds. "Abel! I see you have yourself a hand!" The two young beagles yipped and leaped over each other.
Abel's hammer continued its work. "Just found help for a day. What brings you, Quinn?"
Timothy exhaled. The beagles noticed Cat grazing out in t
he field. The tongues with fur bounded over to play. Cat heaved a sigh Timothy could hear even at that distance.
"You didn't hear the news, I take it?" Quinn rubbed his hands. Timothy wondered if all farmers made tree stumps look soft.
"Nope." Abel straightened and leaned on the fence post. It creaked. He dug out his horn pipe. "But you're gonna tell me."
Quinn bobbed his head. "I saw a couple nobles out hunting."
Cat and the beagles romped in the field. The lamb bleated with annoyed patience.
"Hunting? This far from the wood?" Abel stuffed the pipe with a thumb.
"Aye. Caught my attention it did. A fat noble and a squirrely one with all their hands." Quinn leaned against the fence slat. The slat bent under his weight but held.
"They carried muskets." Quinn spat. "I fancy my bow and spear."
Abel puffed his pipe. Timothy gathered the newly shorn hay and listened.
"They were riding west when one large bloke with a scar on his face stopped. He looked like he had drunk turned milk." Quinn leaned closer to Abel, but his voice grew louder. "You want to know what bloke he was? Well, one of the noble's hands stopped and called after him. Wondering what was going on. The hand called the bloke Tahd."
"Tahd," Abel said. One of the beagles yelped as Cat held it by a dangly ear.
"You know. Tahd the Hunter. The bloke is said to have hunted everything there is to hunt. And he looked like Tahd."
"Who you've never seen."
Quinn waved his hand. "Doesn't matter a bit. I heard the stories enough to know what the bloke looks like. What he was doing with a fat noble has me scratch me head. I heard something else too."
"Might as well out with it." Abel puffed a series of smoke rings.
"There is a fox around."
Timothy froze. A gust of hot wind kicked up dust and grass. He sneezed.
Abel hesitated. "Bah. All the vixens be dead now." Abel straightened. "Essa be on you if you're drinking again."
"Just what I'm hearing. What else would a fat noble and Tahd the Hunter be hunting? I wonder what makes Tahd ride off east when the noble went west?"
"Not for folk like us to know." Abel tapped out his pipe. "There is more work for me if you want to help."
"Naw. Essa has enough to keep me busy. She wants you to come over for supper some night soon. Course, Mary be invited too."
Abel grimaced. "I am not some lad to be matching up."
"Essa just thinks you need a woman to help you around the homestead."
The beagles growled, their ears and tails bristling. Their eyes locked on Kit, who had paused a distance away, three rabbits dangling from her hands. Leaves clung to her skirt. Cat skidded between Kit and the dogs, bleating as if warning the dogs to stay back. The rear of Kit's skirt flitted up.
Quinn clapped his hands. "Here now. None of that. Come over here now!"
The beagles looked at Kit once more before slinking back to their master. "Sit right there." He cuffed each on the nose.
"I'm sorry, lass. I don't know what came over them." Quinn bobbed his head.
Kit stalked past Timothy. "I hate dogs," she muttered. Cat followed beside her, keeping an eye on the dogs.
"I think it is the rabbits I caught. I wanted to give a little thank you, Master Abel, for allowing us to stay."
Quinn smirked at Abel.
"None of that, Quinn. She be the lad's. I will join you and Essa and…Mary some night." Abel turned to Kit. He tapped his pipe against the fence and ground the dabble into the dirt. "No thanks be needed, lass. You be earning your stay."
"Well, I thought I would cook rabbit stew tonight."
"There be vegetables in the garden around back. I see you are good with a sling. Best be careful, lad. A red with a sling." Abel shook his graying head. "Stove be needing cleaning yet, so the fire pit will have to do."
"I will get started then." Kit ignored Timothy. The lamb followed her to the house.
Timothy went back to gathering the grass. Quinn whistled. Timothy doubted the man did anything quietly. "She be a looker." He grinned at Timothy. "You be a lucky man, laddie!"
"Give Essa my blessings. I need to get this fence mended." Abel lifted his hammer and trudged to the next fence post.
Quinn nodded. "I have some things Essa wants me to do. I'll let you know when we have that supper. C'mon now." The beagles followed the farmer as he crossed the fields and disappeared down behind a hill.
"Pay Quinn no mind, lad." Abel hefted his hammer. "He be one for stories more than truth. Besides, we have enough to keep us busy."
Abel proved true to his word.
Dusk found Timothy washed and stretched out on his straw pile. His arms felt heavy after helping Abel with the hopeless fence and cleaning out the wood stove inside the house. He still smelled grass. His ears itched.
Kit slipped into the barn, wearing her brown shift. Her ears stood up in the lantern light. He wished she would be more careful.
She bounced the bag of coins he received back at Fairhaven in her hand. "What is this?"
"Where did you get that?" He thought he had slipped it into his new shirt pocket.
"If you had this, why didn't we just pay the man instead of doing all this work?"
"I hadn't thought of it. We might need it later." His eyes itched. She wouldn't take the money and run, would she? Then again, it might be easier if she did.
"You hadn't thought of it? With this much money, we could hire a carriage to your home instead of walking and sweating!"
"There isn't that much money there. Besides, a carriage draws attention. We hardly look like we should have money."
"We could buy clothes! They are silver coins, are they not?"
"You don't know much about money, do you?" He failed to tamp down his irritation and stifled another yawn. "There is about a year's wages for a tradesman in that bag. It is a good sum, especially for a shepherd. But it hardly goes anywhere when you travel. Besides, we don't know how far we have to go. It takes time to earn money. We are not even out of Fairhaven's farmland yet."
Kit danced and her tail flourished. "I can earn money easily! The Amazing Fox and the Gullible Shepherd! The story of love between mortal enemies! I can just see the crowds applauding our play! We would beat this Shakespeare I hear so much about." The white tip of her tail brushed his face.
Timothy sneezed. "Will you keep that away from me!" He rolled away from her. "Just go to sleep."
He heard a creak of wood taking a weight. He felt so tired, and a knot of stress balled between his shoulders. His mind flitted to Quinn. What would Timothy have done if the farmer turned out to be Tahd or another hunter? Defending sheep from dogs was one thing. Fighting men was another.
Run.
He should not have helped this girl, this fox. But he knew he could not have done anything else.
"Why didn't you take the money and go?" Timothy asked.
"I am not a thief!" Kit said. Something hard slapped into Timothy's back. Metal clinked. "Do you want to get rid of me that badly? Do your promises mean so little?"
Timothy shifted. Kit sat on her barrel with her knees drawn up, her arms and tail hugging her legs. She looked away.
"When I give my word, I keep it. Do not call me an oath breaker again. Now go to sleep." Timothy flopped back to the straw and laid an arm over his eyes.
Kit's whisper flitted in the air. "Sorry."
Kit and Cat were gone when Timothy awoke.
He rushed from the barn before he was fully awake. Did she leave? Had the hunters found her?
Timothy gazed about the fields. Abel split wood in the dawn light, a large pile of firewood stacked behind him.
"Have you seen Kit?"
"I did. She looked like a thunderhead wanting to flatten my farm. What did you do, lad?"
"I didn't do anything. She accused me of—"
Abel leaned on his axe and chuckled. "Lad, you did something. Reds are touchy. Though they have good enough reason to be."
"She a
ccused me of breaking a promise. I am no oath breaker."
Abel shifted. "Look at it from her eyes, lad. I see that you are both in some sort of trouble. No need to deny it. I see how you two are more skittish than Quinn drinking with Essa watching. Think about how that trouble is for her. Be it far from me to offer advice though. Anise is probably laughing and raging at me right now from her rocking chair in Heaven." Abel shouldered the axe. "If you are not an oath breaker, saying any different doesn't mean anything. Words are just words unless you let them needle you. Best you go make up with your lady. Speaking of her…"
Kit trudged into the fields with a basket of clothing on her hip. Cat stalked beside her, ears alert.
Timothy met Kit's gaze, and she turned away.
Abel grinned. "Yep. She is just like Anise. Best go make up after she's cooled a bit more."
Timothy frowned at Kit's back. "She's the one who needs to apologize."
Abel shrugged. "Suit yourself. I tried to talk some wisdom to you."
"So you be leaving now. Well, I can say I'd be missing you. Nice to have a hand around the old farm." Abel clasped Timothy's hand. "You earned your keep these last days better than my own boys."
"Thanks for the meals and bed." Timothy pressed a pair of coins into Abel's hand.
"No be needing this. You earned your keep, I said." Abel looked at the coins as if they were adders.
"It is for the clothes." Timothy pulled at the shirt Abel gave him.
"Bah. They just be eaten by moths. It's good to see them being worn by a looking lady like my Anise was. Keep your coins, lad. You be needing them more than me."
"It is just our way of showing our appreciation for your help." Kit dipped her head.
"Just seeing you brought good memories of Anise. That is payment enough. You be on a long road, I reckon. I packed some things to take along with you." Abel shoved the coins at Timothy and hefted a pair of knapsacks. "Anise be asking God to smite me if I let you leave without giving you something for the road."
Timothy took the knapsacks and handed one to Kit. "I am sure your wife is looking down on you with a smile."
Vixen Hunted Page 6