“None was taken. In fact, given the circumstances, I think it only appropriate we dispense with formalities. You are already on a first-name basis with my sister. May I call you Juliet?”
Hooves thunked steadily against dirt and undergrowth, the only answer to his question. At length, she glanced over her shoulder, her expression quite unreadable in the dark. “I am a poacher. You are my employer, or a redeemer, if you will. Do you really think such a leniency is advisable?”
“No—and yes. We are allies, are we not? Working together, living under the same roof, I believe there should be some measure of trust between us.”
“Trust?” She laughed, the sound light as a summer breeze. “This coming from the man who watches my every move?”
He shifted uncomfortably. Now there was a truth he wasn’t eager to acknowledge. He did keep a close eye on her—he had to. At least that’s what he told himself. “It is an obligatory evil. For now, at any rate. But using our Christian names might help build a bridge between us.”
Had he truly just said that? Is that really what he wanted?
Unwilling to battle that particular demon tonight, he pressed on. “The thing is I am not a man who revels in keeping my distance. At least, not from those I work closely with. And we cannot very well get any closer than we are now, eh?”
“I suppose I am practically sitting in your lap, Mr. Russell.” Once again she glanced back, this time with an arch to her brow. “Or shall I say, Henry? And yes, you may call me Juliet since your sister already does so. Now then, to the matter at hand. I have found the best way to snare prey is silence—and this horse is loud enough.”
She faced forwards, which felt like a loss. He wasn’t sure if he ought to be irritated by her obvious censure or applaud her spunk. Still, he had gained a victory, which was enough for now.
As they rode on, he scanned the darkness, the woods black as a crypt. It was hard to detect anything other than shadow upon shadow.
Until one moved.
“Look to your left,” he whispered. “Beyond that white oak. What do you think?”
Her head swiveled, followed by a sharp inhale. “That is no animal.”
She nudged the horse into action, and he nearly fell off for the second time that night. Trees blurred as he fought to hold on to her slim form but not too tightly. A branch snagged his sleeve; holly tore at his trousers. Eventually they closed the gap, and she tugged on the reins.
But the figure was gone.
“He cannot have gotten far,” she breathed. “Hold on.”
They pounded away, then slowed as they reached the end of the tree line. Keeping them in the cover of the woods’ darkness, she stopped. He slid to the ground, boots landing with a thud, crushing leaves and sticks.
Which earned him a frown.
He stared into the dark as she dismounted, then slowly turned in a circle, straining to see.
Juliet crouched, pressing her fingers into the dirt. “Stay still.”
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Feeling for any kind of vibration. If he is nearby and makes a move, I will know.” She closed her eyes as if she might become one with the earth herself.
His breath hitched slightly at the sight. There was something primal about this woman and the way the forest spoke to her. Something he might never achieve.
Eventually she rose, a sad shake to her head. “Nothing,” she murmured. “If he was here, he is long gone by now.”
While he admired her ability to read the land like a novel, frustration nipped at him. They’d been so close! “You are certain?”
“I know what I am about, sir. I have been doing this for a year now.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Of course she knew what she was about. She navigated this land as if she were the master. “I do not doubt your skills, Juliet. I just … well, Ihad hoped we could put an end to this tonight. It is as if we are chasing a ghost.”
She dusted off her hands, shoulders straightening. “Sometimes all we have are ghosts. I understand your frustration, but that is where perseverance comes in.”
He blinked, once again taken aback. She pulled no punches, this one. “So, what now?”
“We try again in the morning, when the light is better, and I shall see if there is anything left to track. Whoever was here likely left behind some sign. They always do.”
