Her choice was easy.
She ran forward to help her husband and just as she did, an arm snagged her around the waste and yanked her away.
Chapter 6
Willow struggled to break free only to be spun around to face the man who had snagged her. She silently admonished herself for not realizing that Tarass wouldn’t only send two warriors to find Slatter. She was familiar with this warrior as well, Rhodes. He had come to her complaining of a rash when she had tended Slatter. However, she was not familiar with the three other warriors who rushed past them to join in the hunt for Slatter.
“You’ll stay with me until this gets sorted out,” Rhodes commanded.
She had little choice, since his hand moved to keep a good grip on her arm.
Chaos reigned with the warriors rushing through the market and it didn’t take long to realize it was as if they were chasing a ghost. There was no sight of Slatter. He had disappeared.
“Find him!” Rhodes shouted when the warriors stopped and looked around confused, one scratching his head.
They scurried at Rhodes’ command, spreading out throughout the market.
Willow hurried her steps to keep up with Rhodes as he rushed her past the market stalls to the front of the village, away from curious eyes and whispering tongues.
“What are you doing here?” Rhodes asked. “I thought you were visiting Sorrell.”
She turned the question on him. “What brought you here?”
He responded as she expected he would, since most people respond to a question without thinking about it.
“Slatter escaped the group he had been handed over to and we’ve been sent to find him.”
Willow noticed that Rhodes didn’t mention that the group consisted of barbarians, but then the Lord of Fire often seemed a man of mystery to her, keeping things to himself.
“And you? Where is your escort?” Rhodes asked.
Willow turned her head casually from side to side. “They’re somewhere around here.”
“They leave you alone, unprotected?” Rhodes shook his head. “That is unacceptable. I will have a word with them.”
He obviously didn’t know that she had been abducted. Either William had never made it to the Macardle Clan or Rhodes and his men had left before the news of her abduction arrived. The problem now was what did she do?
Rhodes would soon discover she was not with Ruddock’s warriors and would question what had happened to her. Did she speak the truth? Did she return home with Tarass’s warriors? Did she have a choice?
She wouldn’t tell Rhodes about Slatter. As odd as it seemed, she felt that if she mentioned anything about him, she would be betraying her husband. Besides, he had helped her escape Beck and she was grateful to him for that. She could return home and say nothing about her marriage to Slatter. No one would ever need know.
But she knew, and her sensible side warned that secrets don’t stay secrets forever. The more people who knew your secret the better chance you had of it being revealed.
It wasn’t long before all the warriors returned, and without Slatter.
“I don’t know how he got away from us,” Owen explained. “One minute he was there and the next minute he was gone. It was like chasing a ghost.”
The other warriors nodded in agreement.
“Did you see any of Lord Ruddock’s warriors?” Rhodes asked the men.
They all shook their heads while Owen said, “Not a one of them.”
Rhodes looked to Willow. “As I said, you will stay with us until this gets sorted out.”
Willow didn’t expect to feel disappointed. She supposed it was because she expected a different ending to her situation with Slatter, one that was satisfying to them both. If she was her usual sensible self she would have realized from the beginning that would never be possible.
But nothing had seemed sensible since she’d been lowered in that hole with Slatter.
“We’ll return you home to speak with your family and Lord Tarass,” Rhodes said.
Willow stood her ground. “You need not do that. Lord Ruddock’s warriors are probably chasing Slatter as we speak. I will wait their return.”
“Then we will wait with you for their return,” Rhodes said.
Willow didn’t have to see his face to know that he didn’t believe her, she heard it in his voice, and it annoyed her.
She folded her arms across her chest and spoke with firm authority. “As I said, you need not do that. You are not responsible for my safety. Take your leave. I have no need of your help.”
“I cannot do that,” Rhodes said, letting her know it wasn’t negotiable. “We will wait and see you turned safely over to Northwick warriors.”
Frustrated, Willow didn’t know what to do. She looked to the woods where Walcott and the other men waited. Or had they left at the first sign of trouble? Had Slatter left with them? Had he left her behind?
Why does that matter? She scolded herself silently. Maybe Slatter felt she would be better off returned to her family. And didn’t she want to go home? Funny, she should question that. With all that had gone on while visiting her sister, then the attack on the way home, and spending time with Slatter in that godawful hole, she felt more alive than she had in some time.
“We’re camped over there,” Rhodes said with a nod to the left.
Willow almost groaned when she saw the campsite. There had to be twelve or more of Tarass’s warriors there. She was going home, whether she was ready to or not.
“We have drink and food,” Rhodes said and stretched his arm out for her to precede him.
Willow walked as if she was being escorted to the gallows and admonished herself for thinking so dramatically. If it was Sorrell who faced this dilemma, she would already have fashioned an escape plan.
She picked up her pace as the other warriors walked past her, determined to find a way out of this and see to settling things with her husband before returning home.
One of the men in camp began waving frantically to Rhodes and pointing to a man, standing beside a horse.
Willow’s stomach soured. She dreaded her thought, but it seemed the most logical. News had been received about her abduction.
She hastened her step again so that Rhodes would, and he did, rushing past her. With all the warriors congregated in one place, Willow took a chance, turned the other way, and took off running.
She prayed they wouldn’t notice, at least long enough to give her a good start. She had only gained a short distance when Rhodes yelled out, ordering her to stop.
“Willow, stop!”
She paid him no heed. If she could get to the woods, she might have a chance, or so she tried to convince herself. As soon as she heard the thunderous beat of horses’ hooves pounding the ground, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.
“Willow!”
She turned recognizing the voice. It was Slatter and his horse was bearing down on her. She stopped and stood where she was and watched with amazement and shock as he leaned over the side of the horse, his arm extended out as he drew near to her.
She raised her arms, realizing what he intended, and in the next moment she was scooped up and deposited on her stomach to hang over the horse face down in front of him.
“Stay still,” he said, his hand pressed against her back, and headed for the woods.
Once there he hurried her off the horse, depositing her on her feet, and pulling her into a tight hug that she welcomed. It was a relief to feel his arms snug around her, holding her like he never wanted to let her go and to feel how their bodies melded together as if fearing they’d be parted again.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered and brushed her lips with his before he eased her away from him when he wanted nothing more than to hold her close.
Her lips tingled and wanted more, but all she could do was stand there speechless. Had she heard him correctly? Had that been fear in his voice? Had he truly been worried that she had been lost to him? Had that also been her bigg
est worry all along… that she would never see him again?
“We have little time,” he warned. “You will go with Walcott.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. His hands went to her waist and with one quick lift, she was deposited behind Walcott already mounted on a horse.
“Hold on tight and I will see you soon,” he said to her and gave her leg a squeeze, then looked to Walcott. “I’ll lose them. You know where to take her.”
Walcott nodded and took off before Willow could speak.
She held on tight to Walcott as he raced the horse through the woods while she sent silent prayers to the heavens to keep her husband safe.
It was dusk when they finally stopped and he sheltered the horse behind high bushes and hurried her into a small cave-like dwelling.
“No fire,” he said, keeping his voice low. “We can’t chance being found. We’ll leave at first light and be home by dusk tomorrow.”
“The others?” she asked.
“They left as soon as the chaos started.”
Afraid to ask, but needing to know, she said, “Slatter?”
“Worry not about him. He’ll lose the warriors and meet us, though he shouldn’t have taken such a chance,” Walcott grumbled, while sounding confident that Slatter wouldn’t be caught. “Now rest. We have a long ride tomorrow.”
Walcott had been right about the long ride. It had taken all day with a few brief stops until near dusk they had finally entered a village, if it could be called that. There were maybe two, habitable cottages and some hut-like structures worn from age and weather. There was no main structure, no longhouse, no place of leadership, and it struck Willow then that this was no clan. It was a group of people brought together by circumstance.
People hurried around Walcott as soon as he brought the horse to a stop.
“Where is Slatter?”
“Is he all right?”
“He wasn’t caught was he?”
“Who is she?”
“Does she bring trouble?”
“Willow, here, is Slatter’s wife,” Walcott announced and everyone turned silent.
He dismounted and assisted Willow off the horse. She kept a pleasant smile on her face, but it wasn’t returned. All they did was stare at her.
“Where is Slatter?” someone asked, breaking the silence.
“He will be here soon,” Walcott assured them
“Does she bring harm?” another called out.
“She is his wife, and Slatter would expect you to welcome her and treat her well,” Walcott said. “Now get some food and drink and bring it to his cottage. She is tired and hungry as am I.”
The people began drifting off and mumbling among themselves.
“We don’t have much, but we share what we do have,” Walcott said and handed the reins of his horse to a young lad. “Follow me and you can settle yourself in Slatter’s cottage.”
Willow had been concerned for her clan with the approaching winter, but seeing this small group with few sturdy abodes and, what looked to be only one shed to store food and small at that, she couldn’t help but think that they’d never survive.
It also made her wonder about Slatter and the small group of people. Were they people of misfortune or liars and thieves who had banded together? If so, where had they gotten the coin to ransom him?
“Here you are,” Walcott said, stepping into the small cottage. “It’s probably not what you’re used to, but it’ll keep you warm.”
Willow glanced around, but stopped when she heard the door shut behind her. She didn’t think Walcott liked her, or perhaps he was annoyed that circumstances had forced Slatter to wed her. Whatever the reason, it seemed the people here might agree with him. She continued to look around the room. A bed, the size two people would have to squeeze together to fit in, was pushed against one wall. A small table, with a jug and two tankards atop in the center and two chairs tucked beneath, sat close to the fireplace. A good-sized chest sat against the wall next to the door and higher up were a few pegs, though no garments hung from them.
She slipped off her cloak and hung it on one of the pegs, then went to the hearth to warm her hands. Now that she was here, her thoughts turned sensible. What did she hope to accomplish by staying with Slatter? She had seen him with another woman and all he had done was smile at her. And she had heard him called a whoremonger. Did that not warn her about what type of man he was? Had his fine features and charming tongue made her lose all rationale thought?
Yet he had sounded so sincere when he had told her that he had feared he’d lost her. Or was it a lie to benefit the situation? Did he have other plans for her, rather than helping her. Could he intend to benefit from her as Beck had planned to do?
The door opened without warning and Willow turned with a start.
A young woman entered and placed a bowl with half a loaf of bread and some cheese and a pitcher on the table. She blatantly glanced over Willow, shook her head, and walked out the door. Evidently, she was letting Willow know she didn’t approve of Slatter’s choice for a wife.
She pulled a chair out from the table and sat. The only thing she could do was talk with Slatter when he returned and see what he had to say, but would he speak the truth to her?
What if he had been caught by Tarass’s men? What then? Would he tell them where she had been taken? Or would he fear what might happen to the people here?
She let out a sigh and shook her head. This was what happened when sound reason was ignored and for what… caring about a man she barely knew?
Caring about what happened to the man, not caring for the man himself, she quickly corrected herself. Or did she care for Slatter? Had she been as foolish as all the other women he had sweet talked and surrendered to his charming tongue and good looks?
What a mess she had gotten herself into. Her two sisters, if informed that she had lied to Tarass’s men and had gone off with Slatter instead of returning home with them, would never believe it. She was far too practical of a woman to do something so foolish, and yet, she had.
She nibbled on the bread and cheese and after a few sips of cider drank no more, it being too sour for her taste. Several yawns and aching limbs reminded her how tired she was and she had always believed that a good night’s sleep would bring brighter perspectives on any problems one had.
She stood with a stretch, slipped her tunic off to drape over the back of the chair, and rested her boots by the hearth so they would be warm when she wore them next. She climbed into bed, the mattress lumpy, though it was far more comfortable than standing in a hole in the ground all night, and pulled the wool blanket up around her.
Whispered prayers fell from her lips as they did every night and before she finished, she was fast asleep.
Slatter stood over the bed, looking at his sleeping wife. It was late, only a few hours from morning. He had ridden all day and night to get home, to make sure his wife was safe. He had lost Tarass’s men easily, but he had wanted to make certain they couldn’t follow his tracks before he headed home.
His heart had slammed in his chest when he had seen his wife with Tarass’s warriors. Worse, he wasn’t sure what she would do. Would she go with them? Would she turn him over to them? Or would she foolishly think that they could return with the warriors and he would be safe because she was his wife?
He had just been about to close in on the man he was searching for when he spotted Willow with the warrior, Rhodes. He had been one of the warriors who had turned him over to the barbarians. Then the man called him a whoremonger and all hell had broken loose.
His greatest fear had been for his wife. All he could think about was that he had to get to her. He had to keep her safe. He had to make sure no one took her from him.
When he had seen the warriors leave her side, he’d seen his chance and taken it and was relieved when he had seen Willow run for the woods, trying to escape them.
He was also relieved she was there safely tucked in his bed and he wasted no time in she
dding his garments and joining her. The bed wasn’t a good fit for two people, but that was an easy adjustment to make. He went to ease his wife on her side to wrap himself around her when she turned and snuggled against him.
“Slatter,” she whispered, a warm breath fanning his neck as her head rested on his shoulder.
“Aye, leannan,” he murmured and wrapped her in his arms, wondering if he had lost his mind caring for this woman, thinking she belonged to him, when he had no choice but to eventually let her go.
Chapter 7
Slatter left the bed as soon as he woke the next morning, not trusting himself to remain there until his wife woke. He’d been with his fair share of women, had fun with them, cared about them for the brief time he’d spent with them, but never did one of them linger in his mind the way Willow did.
The strange part about it was that he had found her appealing when he had first met her. He had asked himself why ever since. She hadn’t shown any interest in him at all. Her only focus had been his wound. He had tried to work his wiles on her, thinking perhaps he could get her to help him make another escape, a successful one this time. He had realized soon enough she was far too sensible a woman and would inform the guards of his action, which made him wonder why she had chosen to escape Tarass’s warriors and stay with him?
She had wanted to go home, would have to return home eventually, so why delay it? Why not take the opportunity that had presented itself?
She’ll have a rationale reason.
He smiled at the thought and closed the door quietly behind him as he stepped outside.
A light snow had fallen, dusting the land, and the gray skies hinted that more might follow. It would be a cold winter and he feared for the small group that had taken refuge together. It annoyed him that he had yet to settle his problem, but then it hadn’t been as easy to solve as he had first thought it would be.
Walcott approached him and he could see by his sour expression that something was wrong. Though, if truth be told Walcott wore a sour expression more often than not.
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