CHAPTER 19
Almost two long,harrowing weeks had passed since Lucy’s kidnapping and subsequent escape.
She and Callan rode out from the inn that morning, well-rested, refreshed, and excited that they were only a few days ride from Blackford. Then, finally, she’d be home. Once she laid eyes on her boys, then and only then would Lucy stop worrying about Agnes.
As the miles went by, her excitement grew, while Callan’s faded, leaving him deep in thought. He’d come so far, not knowing what he’d find, all alone in the world.
“You’re really brave.”
Callan startled. Green eyes met hers. “Am I?”
Lucy nodded. “You walked from the highlands of Scotland all alone, all the way to England to find your birth father. And then, when you found out he passed, but had a son, you set out to find William.” She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. “I would not have the courage to do what you did. I’ve been terrified this entire journey, and that’s with you traveling with me.”
He made that noise in the back of his throat again. It encompassed so many meanings that Lucy decided to make an early new year’s resolution to practice until she, too, could make the noise, envisioning how useful it would come in around the castle.
Callan turned that intense gaze of his on her, green eyes serious and appraising. “Ye are a wee thing, and yet ye bashed a battle-hardened mercenary over the head with a rock.” He rolled his eyes. “Bravery ye have plenty of.”
She arched a brow. “But? I hear a but coming.”
With a grin, he added, “But I’m no thinkin’ ye have much sense to go off on yer own.”
“Men.” She’d like Callan to see her time where women did things alone all the time, maybe not ill-thought out adventures like she’d been having, but all the same, Lucy knew she had plenty of common sense. It was just sometimes her impulsiveness got the better of her.
They rode a few more miles as she shifted, trying to get comfortable.
“Let’s stop and rest the horses. I swear my toes are tingling. They want to run all the way home.” A small laugh escaped.
“Something amuses ye?”
Lucy brushed a leaf out of her braid. “I was thinking of a nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to us when I was small.” She hummed a bit as Callan shook his head.
“You will have to sing it for me.” The flash of a smile was so quick if she hadn’t been looking at him, Lucy would have missed it.
The open field was wide enough for them to ride side by side as she turned to look at him. “I should warn you, dogs howl when I sing.”
Callan looked intrigued. “Surely, you jest.”
He’d find out soon enough. Lucy kept one hand on the reins, grateful her horse was happy to keep moving along without much input from her. The other hand she held up so he could see.
“Imagine my fingers are toes and as my mother would sing each line, she’d wiggle a toe.”
She cleared her throat and sang the nursery rhyme about little piggy’s going to market, ending with the wee, wee, wee line as a mournful howl broke across the trees, making her horse snort and Lucy burst out laughing.
“Told ya so.” Wanting to ease his anxiety, she howled back to the wolf. They went back and forth for several minutes until Lucy couldn’t stop laughing.
His shoulders relaxed as Callan let a low laugh escape.
“You have odd customs at Blackford.”
Happy there was a breeze, the sky was blue, and they were getting closer to home and her children, Lucy just blurted out without thinking, “I’m not from Blackford. I’m from North Carolina. My mom said the nursery rhyme was first recorded sometime in the late 1700s.”
Horrified, she clapped a hand over her mouth as Callan whipped his head to the side to really look at her, as if certain pieces were clicking into place.
“Oh, look, there’s a stream.” Lucy urged her horse forward and dismounted next to the water so the animal could drink and graze. She rummaged in her bag for the apples she’d purchased from a passing farmer to share with the horses.
“Where is North Carolina and what do you mean the 1700s?”
Lucy jumped as Callan stood about a foot from her. “How do you do that? You’re as quiet as a cat.”
