The outer door opened quietly and someone came into the building, moving on soft feet as if they didn’t want to be heard.
From her position against the wall by the door, she silently willed the person to keep going, biting back another curse when they slowed outside the door. Over the thump of her heart she heard the soft shift of booted feet against a floorboard, and the person turned into the room.
Acting quickly, Hallie grabbed up the oil lantern from the barrel and swung it towards the newcomer, aiming for their head, only to pull her swing before it connected as the brighter light from the corridor showed her a wonderfully familiar face.
“Girard,” she said, relief making her knees waver. She put the lantern down and took a step forward, wrapping her arms around him. “You’re alright.”
“I’m fine,” he told her, returning the hug. The worry she’d been holding in about what might have happened to him, what state he might be in, made her eyes sting, whole body weak with relief. He was warm and safe and here. He brushed a hand over her hair, pausing when she winced. “You’ve got a massive lump there.”
“Got hit,” she said, feeling embarrassed. “Come, we need to get out of here.”
“Not yet.” Another voice drew Hallie’s attention around Girard’s shoulder and she saw Rhodda standing in the corridor, scowl on her face. “You promised to help,” the woman said to Girard, voice hard.
“I did make that promise, yes. Rhodda has a son here somewhere,” Girard said, resting his hand on Hallie’s cheek for a moment before he let her go and stepped back. “He wasn’t in the outbuildings, so we were going to search the house.”
“He’s not in the house just now,” Hallie said, drawing a deep breath and turning to Rhodda. “I’ve met your son. Brock. I’m sorry to tell you that he’s with Jonah.”
“What do you mean,withJonah? No. He’s being held captive,” Rhodda said, frowning. Hallie could hear the fear and confusion in the woman’s voice. She’d heard that fear in Rhodda’s voice before. It made sense now. Not so much terrified for herself as for her son.
“No. I don’t mean that. He’s not a prisoner. Brock is part of Jonah’s group,” Hallie said, trying to be gentle.
“I don’t believe you.” Rhodda’s voice was hot with anger, scowl pulling her brows together.
“I don’t have any reason to lie to you. I woke up in this room, tied up and with a knot on my head, and Brock was standingguard over me,” Hallie told her. She turned back to Girard, urgency taking hold again. “We need to go. I managed to get away from Jonah and Findo, but they’ll catch up soon enough.”
“Sorry, who? Findo? Findo Trask?” Girard looked absolutely shocked.
“Yes, yes, Findo Trask. Come on,” Hallie urged. “We were down at the harbour, but they weren’t that far behind me and there are too many armed men for just us to deal with.”
Girard looked as if he had about a hundred questions, but he managed to shove them aside and nod, apparently ready to move.
“Not without my son,” Rhodda said, planting her feet, stubborn set to her jaw.
For a moment, Hallie was tempted to just leave her. Let the woman find out for herself what her son had been up to. It was unlikely that Jonah would hurt her, or at least not badly. The governor needed Rhodda’s services, after all.
But Girard was frowning. He seemed to have made a promise to this woman, and not only would Girard not break his promise, Hallie couldn’t let him do that. So either Rhodda needed to change her mind, or they all needed to stay. To find a way of surviving. One look at Rhodda’s face told Hallie that the woman was not going to change her mind. She wanted her son.
“Saints,” Hallie muttered, scrubbing a hand through her hair and regretting it as she woke up the pain. “Alright. Fine. We’ll make a stand, see if we can get Brock out. But we’ll need a lot more guns. They took mine,” she added, for Girard’s benefit.
“The garage out back, where the ATVs are,” Rhodda said. “There are weapons there. Or there were last time I was here.”
“Alright. Let’s go get some arms and decide how we’re going to go from here,” Girard said. He cast a critical glance over Hallie. “And see if we can find you some boots, at least. You must be freezing.”
“Best thing for that is to keep moving,” Hallie told him, and followed Rhodda out of the house.
It was late afternoon, as far as she could judge from the fading light. Another too-short winter day. She must have been unconscious for a while.
The door they exited from was around the far side of the house from where Hallie had hidden in the forest, and opened out onto a roadway that must run from the outbuildings all the way down the mountain. Rhodda turned back to the outbuildings and set off for them at a steady jog.
“What about the patrols and the floodlights?” Hallie asked Girard, in as low a voice she could manage, as they followed Rhodda. Jonah had doubled the patrols, she remembered. Before she’d been caught, though. Perhaps he had changed his mind while she had been unconscious.
“Rhodda did something to the lights. Not sure what. And we haven’t seen a patrol yet. We just arrived, went through the outbuildings on our way, but I was coming to find you before we did anything else.”
The knowledge that he’d been looking for her warmed her inside. “Thank you.” She touched his arm and he covered her fingers with his for a moment. “What about the radio?” she asked, keeping her voice low, not wanting Rhodda to hear.
“I didn’t make it to the packs,” Girard answered in the same low voice. “Rhodda met me before I could get there. She’d turned around, away from Reunion, and was going to get her son.”
“So, no back-up?” Hallie asked, stomach sinking as she thought about Findo Trask and Jonah and his more than twenty armed men.
