Once they cleared the skirting wall, Dugan brought his mount even with Quinn’s, riding to his left. “Have ye any hint of where she might she go?” He leaned forward, looking past Quinn to shoot Rosstan a hard look. “And that’s a valid question to help find her, ye ken?”
Rosstan laughed.
“I have no idea,” Quinn said. That was the problem at hand. Evie didn’t know the people or the land. Where would she try to hide? “The tunnel from her room ends in the cave on the shoreline beneath the keep. We keep a boat there.”
“Ye feel she would try to manage the sea when she canna even ride a horse?” Rosstan shaded his eyes with one hand as he scanned the landscape.
Quinn didn’t know what the lass might try. She was afraid and probably angry, as well. He just prayed she had worn the garb of this time instead of her strange clothes. At least that way, if anyone came upon her before he did, she might be some safer. If anyone harmed her, he’d hunt them down and kill them. “The guards on the wall reported nothing on the seaside.”
“Did they check the cave for the boat?” Rosstan asked.
“I sent them there but couldna bear to wait for them to report back. They’ll send a runner if the boat’s missing.” Quinn slowed his mount to a stop and studied the land he had loved since birth, wishing it would share the secret of Evie’s whereabouts. “I feel in my heart she would keep to the land. ’Twould be easier going for her.”
“If she nay wishes to be seen, she’ll keep to the trees,” Dugan said with a thoughtful scowl at the scattering of trees dotting the glen. “There’s but a few copses to choose from. Shall we separate to cover more ground?”
Dugan’s suggestion held promise. If she took to the meadow and not the shoreline, she couldn’t be far.
“If she followed the water’s edge, she’s had time to reach Muiry. I know it’s mainly docks and fishermen’s shanties, but this time of day, their women will be out mending nets and baskets. They could tell us if they’ve seen her.” Rosstan resettled his grip on the reins. His horse side-stepped as if eager to be on the move. “Shall I go there and see?”
“Aye.” Quinn nodded. “Check Muiry. Dugan and I will scour the trees.”
With a curt tip of his head, Rosstan wheeled about and rode off at a hard gallop.
“West or south, my chieftain?” Dugan sat ready to ride, alert as a dog waiting for a stick to be thrown.
“Search west ’til ye reach the village. If ye ask about her there, mind yer words. I’d as soon keep this as quiet as possible. I’ve already had to share this with too many.” His wife running off the day after their wedding night shamed him, and he had no one to blame but himself. If he had not locked that feckin’ door or left her feeling that he’d turned on her, he’d not be searching for her now. Of course, at that time, he hadn’t known what to think about all she had shared. “Dinna leave a blade of grass untouched, Dugan. I want her back, ye ken?”
“Aye, my friend.” Dugan gave him a sympathetic look. He spoke with uncharacteristic quietness. “We will find her, cousin. Dinna fash yerself.”
Quinn watched him ride away, then spurred his mount toward the cluster of trees closest to shore. It was naught but a smattering of scraggly birches and one or two decent-sized oaks, but she could’ve hidden there for a short time while she gathered her bearings. The leaf mold beneath the trees appeared disturbed. He studied the ground closer. Not the work of a wild boar foraging for food. The layers of leaves weren’t laid aside as though plowed by a snout. ’Twas a delicate roughing up of the woodland floor. Maybe deer. Hopefully, Evie. He rode in and out among the trees, eyeing the tracks until he reached the other side.
Across the way waited a much larger woods that would serve as a fair enough shelter for the evening. He headed toward it at a hard gallop. All the while scanning the sea of tall grasses rippling in the wind. The sedge was tall enough to hide her. If she kept her wits about her, she could lay flat and go undiscovered. He hoped she hadn’t realized that.
The next stand of trees flourished in the dip between twin hillocks rolling across the glen. Oaks outnumbered the birch and rowan populating this forest. Grand trees big enough to provide ample cover this time of year with their thick, leafy canopies. He paused just as he entered the tree line and listened. Water. The trickling teased like quiet laughter. Aye, this place would be a grand bit of cover for a night or two.
The ground sloped downward on both sides, hinting that the copse hid a shallow ravine at its base. Gnarled roots of the ancient trees clutched the ground like knobby fingers coated in velvety green moss. Odd to find such a forest this far north and so close to the sea, but the lay of the land sheltered the woodland enough to allow it to thrive and mimic the forests farther south.
A gentle breeze shushed through the leaves as if telling them to keep their secrets from him. Birdsong serenaded his search. A red squirrel fussed and chittered, sounding the alarm that an intruder had entered their shady sanctuary. Evie had to be here. Fresh water. Wild cherries. Blackberries. Sloes everywhere. If she knew of such things, she could hide here and do well. At least for a little while.
He started to call out to her but stopped. Nay, she wouldn’t answer. If anything, she would hide as best she could. He would have to hunt her with the stealth of stalking skittish game. Slipping out of the saddle without a sound, he quietly patted his mount. “Wait here, Fenn. I dinna wish our lady to hear us.”
The horse would stay in place ’til sundown, then return to the keep, with or without him. As it had done on the day of the attack at the waterfall.
As silent as a spirit of the woods, Quinn slipped through the trees, heading toward the gurgling burn. Evie was canny enough to go to water. At least she would if she came this way. The farther he went with no sign of her, the more doubt became a fearsome demon gnawing at his gut. If she hadn’t come this way, he wasted precious time on this hunt.
He reached the water. The shallow stream danced across a bed of multicolored stones, rounding them with its endless caress. A double handful of the cold sweet stuff refreshed him. He drank his fill and wet his face. As he crouched beside the trickling burn, he trailed his fingers in the water and silently prayed,help me find her.
When he lifted his head, the tiniest flash of white at the base of a tree on the embankment across the way caught his attention. He went still, locked on the bit of pure whiteness that didn’t belong among the shadowy greens and browns of the copse. Quiet and slow, he rose to his full height. Enough of the white showed to make it recognizable as cloth.
The urge to charge toward it raged through him, but he held fast. Nay, even though he could easily outrun her, he didn’t wish to frighten the lass. Heel to toe, he eased toward her without the slightest sound. She must be sleeping behind the rise of that root. Completely spent from her escape. His hands twitched with every step, making him cringe when his knuckles popped. She didn’t move. Poor lass. He had mistreated her into exhaustion.
Hopefulness filled him as he rounded the base of the tree. But then he dropped to his knees, as all hope left him. The white cloth, a woman’s kertch, had snagged on a broken branch and remained in place while its mistress had continued on her way. Its brightness revealed its newness to the area. That soothed him somewhat. Surely, it belonged to Evie. She had to have come this way. He snatched it up and buried his face in it, breathing it in like a hound on the hunt. Heaven help him. It was hers. Even if struck blind, he could find her by her scent. As he clutched it to his chest, he bowed his head. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “I am so verra sorry.”
A loud splash made him jerk around and search the stream. Nothing out of the ordinary appeared. Harried rustling through the forest floor’s dried leaves yanked his attention back to the hillside beyond the tree where he knelt. “Evie!” He sprang up and bolted after her, not caring that he had shouted like a lovesick lad. It didn’t matter. She was so close.
She stumbled and landed on her knees but scrambled back to her feet and took off again. Not as fast this time. In fact, she limped.
“Evie, wait! I willna hurt ye. I swear it.” He was almost to her. A bit closer, and he’d snag hold of a loop on her pack and halt her.
