The Runaway Highlander (The Highland Renegades Book 2) (21 page)

Always, he expected to be trapped or captured. Perhaps it was why he’d lived as long as he had. Perhaps it was also why Anne never really lost the skeptical look in her eye when he tried to talk to her about what the future would hold.

He loved her
, he knew that now. He thought she loved him—she’d said as much, but knowing her mother, he preferred to wait for the proof of her actions to back that up before he could really let himself believe it. And yet, as he’d feared, it was too late.

Today, he had his hair combed down over the scarred side of his face. If he didn’t cover that when he went in public, it was always the first thing people saw about him and it often meant he would get thrown out or pushed away or shunned.

But he needed Reva’s son to believe him, to accept him, to help him. He couldn’t let the girls down.

Sure enough, there was a man in the back of the house tending a fire. It was early in the morning and the sun was at their backs. Aedan approached from the most visible angle he could manage, giving the man plenty of time to see him coming and prepare if need be. But the man just sat by his fire, smoking his pipe and watching Aedan walk up.

“Good morning.” Aedan called out when he was close. “A beautiful day, if I do remark myself.”

“Indeed, it is.” The man took a long puff on his long pipe. “And what brings you to my doorstep?”

“I come bearing greetings from an old friend. Molnar the Potter sends word that he hopes it will rain well for your crops and that you may always have the seed you need for a healthy harvest.”

The man took a hat from the ground near his chair and smiled.
He was missing a tooth on the side of his smile, which reminded Aedan of the old man. “Well, if you’re a friend of Molnar, and you’re going to pay me for my time, then my time is yours my friend.”

“Are you Reva’s son?”

“That depends on who’s asking.” The man stood and walked toward Aedan, one hand holding his pipe and the other hand outstretched. “Come and sit by my fire, friend. It’s cold.”

Aedan took a patch of ground near the fire and sat with his legs out. “My name is John Scott.”

The man in the hat smiled. “I’m Reva’s son, yes. You can call me Fergus.”

“
Fergus, I’m pleased to know you. My… wife… is on her way in to Hull as we speak to see your mother.”

He took a slow puff and let the smoke filter out one side of his mouth. “Hmm. Let me check on something in the house before we continue.” He left his hat on his chair and opened the back door to the small house. It couldn’t have taken him more than a minute to walk from one side of the house to the other, and he was outside again before Aedan could even have stood and made it to the door.

“My own wife, Rosie, has gone visiting the neighbors, so we can speak candidly, Mr. Scott.” Fergus eased back into his chair. “She’s not really my wife, but folks around here have been believing she is for nearly twenty years now.”

Aedan’s eyes widened.
“That’s a long time to be somewhere.”

“Indeed.”
Fergus sucked on his pipe. “It’s a long time to pretend to be married, too. But to each his own.”

A glance back toward the barn told Aedan they still couldn’t see these women he protected, yet he was so worried that there was something else happening while he talked to this friend of Molnar’s.

“So you’re looking for traveling papers.” Fergus emptied his pipe into the fire. “And she’s not really your wife, is she?”

Aedan’s pulse quickened. “She certainly will be.”

“And Molnar sent you here because he knew you’d be safe.”

“How do you know these things?”

Fergus smiled down at him and leaned forward, putting his elbows nearly on his knees. “First, your English accent needs work. I can hear the lowland Scots rolling around there. Second, don’t use the Scott surname here. Anyone with a Scott last name is a Scot themselves. And third, we’ve had soldiers here asking about a man with a scarred face and the women who travel with him.”

Aedan swore. “I’d hoped we would outrun any possible word about us.” In truth, he was surprised the Sheriff’s men, old or new, had come this far south. It was far more likely they would travel toward Anne’s father. Unless they knew about Brighde. But that would be impossible. No one should be able to connect her with Aedan, not after he’d paid
Tilde and her family well to say she was still at the house.

Would they never be truly free?

“What were the soldiers asking for, specifically? How many women?”

“Two women,”
Fergus said. “One blonde, one mostly blonde. One beautiful, one insane.”

“And where are the soldiers?”

Fergus pointed behind the house, away from the barn, and Aedan’s breath normalized. “They came from Hull and went toward the West, on the King’s road.”

“That is at least good.”

“You passed them in the night, I think.”

Aedan looked across the field to where the road began. Being this close to the road likely had its benefits. Of course, the constant
soldier traffic would be a deterrent for Aedan, but perhaps a boon for someone else.

“You are so close to the road,” Aedan noted.

“We wanted to always be near the travelers.” He used his thumb to clean out his pipe, then wiped both pipe and hands on his dark trousers.

“So, if we are speaking candidly,” Aedan began, raising his eyebrows.
Fergus nodded.

“You will hear my wife return with a loud slam of the front door, and even if she is here, the only untrustworthy thing about her is that she does talk in her sleep. And occasionally to the nosy women who live around us.”

“The woman who will be my wife, she and her sister are escaping from soldiers in Berwick. As am I, in a manner of speaking.”

“What manner is that?”

“I helped them escape, when my… wife’s younger sister killed a man.”

“The Sheriff, I hear he was.”

Aedan nodded tightly. “An evil man, but still, a death.” He sat back on his hands and stretched out his legs. “We were running from Berwick, but my wife doesn’t want to run forever.”

“No woman does.”
Fergus couldn’t stifle his laughter and Aedan joined him, just to be polite. But truth be told, Aedan didn’t want to run, either. He was as sick of running as Anne or Elena, or even Brighde. He wanted to give them something stable.

“In order to have a life
free of fear that at any moment they may come for her sister, my wife has consented to live in France. But we cannot board a ship with the papers we have. They will turn us in to the authorities.”

“This is what my mother does, my lad.”
Fergus held up a hand in reassurance. “Have no fear, she will procure the papers you need, and have you on your way to France and freedom. And until then, you and the women are welcome to stay in the barn where I have no doubt Molnar told you to leave them before you came to speak to me.”

Aedan laughed. “How did you know that?”

“Molnar believes there to be too much traffic at my house. He doesn’t see how a man could properly hide in the sight of so many soldiers. He prefers the west barn, and it’s almost always uninhabited.” Fergus turned his attention to the house and held up a finger to stop Aedan from talking. He inclined his head as though listening, but soon waved Aedan off.

“I thought I heard the wife, but it may be just the wind.”

“Your wife is a great woman.”

“Now she is,”
Fergus said. “When we first came here, she was timid and scared, like anyone would be. She feared we wouldn’t blend in, wouldn’t be accepted.” He spread his arms wide. “Now, twenty years later, look at us.”

Aedan’s stomach cinched. “You came here as a fugitive?” He thought he recognized a wariness in the man’s eyes. Aedan had seen enough fugitives in his life to know that look.

That was the look he feared so much seeing in Anne’s eyes. And why he pushed so hard for France, for a new life. He would do anything to keep her from feeling trapped, forever fearful.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” The man’s face looked suddenly old and tired.

“Molnar said it would be a lot of money.”

Fergus
nodded. “It will be. And the more people, the more expensive.”

Aedan
had shied from the topic long enough, waiting to decide if he could trust the man. He had to take the leap of faith, to be able to provide what they needed.

“Molnar said you would be able to get me past the recruiting qu
estions with the captain at the barracks.”

Fergus
’ brow shot up. “I wondered if that might be why he sent you. Heaven knows he’s got enough connections to people like my mother. He needn’t have sent you here unless you had some connection to the area where you could hide until the papers were finished, or if you needed a leg up with the English.”

Aedan clasped his hands together over his legs. “The women don’t know of this, but Molnar said it was the only way to get the rest of the money we need.”

“You know they don’t pay on deployment.” Fergus sat forward in his seat. “But I imagine that’s why you need me.”

“That’s right.” Aedan’s tone sounded ominous, even to himself. “Molnar said that we could pay you to keep the women in your house, my wife and her sisters.”

“That we can.”

“So you’ll claim me, and them?”

Fergus’ gaze darkened. “This isn’t a game, boy. You won’t come back from this. England is at war with Scotland and every day, they gather troops and march northward. They mean to level your countrymen and raze the whole place to make it theirs.”

Aedan had a quick flash of his home, of the rolling hills and the animals, of the cheerful people he’d known as a child, of the friends he’d made in Scotland, of Molnar, of Anne. It was a sacrifice he had to make.

“It’s the only way to get her a fresh start.”

Fergus
nodded. “Well, let’s start with your clothes, then we should bring your women to the house before I take you to the barracks.”

“They mustn’t know what I’m about to do.” Aedan reached for
Fergus as the two men rose. He grasped the older man’s shoulder and gave him as forceful a stare as he could. “Anne knows that we will attempt to live with you and your wife until the papers come through. The rest, she doesn’t know.”

With a shrug,
Fergus grunted and made for the door. “I hope she’s not the violent type.”

*****

Anne ran across the open field, her breath short enough. But she couldn’t wait to return to Aedan. Since he’d kissed her so thoroughly and so pleasantly in the barn, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his lips on hers, his body pressed against hers, his hands covering hers.

The whole affair of locating Reva had been significantly less frightening because she felt like she carried Aedan with her wherever she went. And the news she had was so good, she couldn’t wait to share it with him. Not only had Reva agreed to do all four of them for the price Aedan had suggested, but she said she could have all the papers ready within the month. It would be far less than Aedan had feared.

Until then, they could travel if they had to, or stay with this son of Reva’s that Molnar insisted they should see.

When she reached the barn, the cart was empty. Elena and Brighde had both vacated
the barn, in addition to having taken all their things. Both horses were also gone.

Aedan had promised that if she returned to the barn to find this, she should come to the farmhouse they’d passed, that this would be the sign Molnar had been telling the truth and everything would turn out in the end, as it should.

She slowed her pace as she walked in the direction the map showed the farmhouse would be. She folded the map and tucked it back into her dress. It had been accurate for finding Reva, and she had no doubt it would be accurate as well in finding Reva’s son.

The heavily-wooded countryside m
ight have unnerved anyone else, because the visibility was so low, but the closeness made Anne feel safe. She knew, no matter what came upon her, there was always a place to hide, and she was never left open and vulnerable.

She checked overhead to the position of the sun, which was almost ready to set, but still constant in its place in the heavens, and she ran onward, toward the sun. Just as the map promised, she came out of the woods into a small clearing with a farmhouse and a tilled field with the till still in the ground, awaiting further work.

Anne recognized her horse, tied in a long rope to a post behind the house. She circled, looking for the other horse, but couldn’t find it. Perhaps Aedan had taken the road in to Hull for supplies, or had to sell the horse in order to pay Reva’s son. She knew they would have to pay him, as well, but they hadn’t discussed how. She wished Aedan would have told her of his plans. Not that she minded losing the horse, but it did put them at a disadvantage if they had to take to the forests again. Having only the cart horse meant they were without a lookout. Or one of them would always be either piled in the back with their belongings or walking.