She had neared Castle Rock before she glanced up and noticed a man standing on its summit. Her heart lifted. Was it him? Had he come?
The man turned and she saw his face.
Wesley.
She stopped on the path where she was, heart sinking. Had Stephen given up? Was he not coming for her after all? Or not able to? Sophie turned, deciding to hurry back the way she had come before Wesley saw her. She knew he would show up at Mavis’s door, but she would rather not face him alone. But she had no more than turned, when she stopped again. A second man was approaching from the other direction.
Stephen.
“Sophie!” Wesley’s voice, calling her from behind. From the past.
Yards ahead, Stephen raised a hand, his other bound in a sling. She raised hers in turn, barely resisting the urge to run to him, which would not be safe on the narrow path high above the sea, slick from last night’s rain.
She glanced over her shoulder. Wesley strode quickly toward her. She stood there, feeling more and more trapped as the brothers neared, closing in on her.
“Stay back, Wesley,” Stephen commanded.
“I don’t take orders from you, Captain Black.”
“You do if you value your life.”
Worried for them both, Sophie turned toward Wesley, searching for the words to release him—and convince him to release her—once and for all.
“Wesley. It’s over. You have to let me go.”
“Not without a fight,” he growled.
“That can be arranged.” Stephen fisted his good hand.
Sophie knew Stephen could easily defeat his brother in any fight under normal circumstances, but at the moment, with the captain’s arm bound, his face pale, and his legs slightly trembling, Wesley might for once have the advantage.
“Stephen, don’t. Your shoulder.”
Wesley lunged past her and pushed Stephen’s chest. Stephen grabbed him in a wrestling hold, sling forgotten. They struggled back and forth, grunting and cursing, heedless of the cliff and turbulent sea far below.
“Stop it!” she shouted. “Before you both get yourselves killed.”
Stephen’s grip loosened at her words, and Wesley shoved hard. Stephen lost his footing and they both fell. Sophie screamed.
Arms clutching each other, the two men tumbled over the edge, Wesley slamming into a boulder protruding from the cliff side and stopping their fall, Stephen stretched headfirst down the slope.
Sophie dropped flat on the path and reached down, wrapping her arms around Stephen’s legs. She had hold of him, and he had hold of Wesley as he clung to the rock.
The rock shifted.
Fear for his wife gripped Stephen’s heart. “Sophie, don’t. Let go,” he called in warning.
“I won’t.”
“You’re not strong enough to pull us up. It’s all right, love. Let go.”
“I won’t. If you go, I go.”
“No! Think of your child. Our child.”
The rock shifted again, loosening. It would not bear their weight indefinitely.
Wesley gritted out, “You can’t save me this time, Marsh. All you’ll do is wreck your arm and pull Sophie down with us.”
