As men and boys began to cluster around the fallen figure, Elena felt a surge of urgency. She fought her way through the throng, pushing past the startled faces that blurred in her vision. All she could think about was reaching him, making sure he was alright.
When she finally reached Jacob, he lay still for a moment, his eyes open but staring blankly at the sky, as if the world had faded away. Her heart plummeted at the sight, a cold dread settling in her stomach. “Jacob!” she cried again, her voice trembling as she knelt beside him.
“Is he alright?” one of the boys asked, concern lacing his tone.
She reached for his arm, clutching the thick wool of his sleeve. Her eyes burned, tears threatening to spill over.
At her touch, Jacob flinched.
He blinked hard and sucked in a breath through his teeth. He pushed her hand from his arm and began to sit up at once, swaying slightly as he did.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, the words clipped.
“Nae so brave now,” someone said.
“He dinna need to be—laird’s lass’ll be brave for him,” another jeered.
A ripple of laughter followed.
Jacob’s jaw tightened. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his head and then over his face, smearing dirt across his cheek.He didn’t look at Elena as he pushed to his feet before anyone could offer a hand, brushing himself off with sharp, irritated movements.
Her father appeared then, striding toward them, Alexander and another lad at his side. “Elena,” Liam said firmly. “Ye ken better than to wander onto the training field.”
“But Jacob—” Her voice breaking, confusion welling as Jacob strode away from her.
Liam followed her gaze and gave a short, assessing look.
“He’s fine,” her father said calmly. “Just had the wind knocked out of him.” Then, more gently, “Come away now.”
Elena allowed herself to be guided away, though she twisted to look over her shoulder. Jacob stood with his back half-turned, rolling one shoulder, testing it.
While her father steered her off the training field, assuring her once more that Jacob was unharmed, she turned one last time to glance at him, and this time he glanced up and caught her eye. And though his jaw remained clenched, he gave her a sparse nod of acknowledgment.
The moment felt like magic to her, simply wonderful.
Elena smiled weakly at him, relief flooding her.
The heat and tension in her chest eased, and suddenly, everything was right in her world again.
THE DAY UNFOLDED MUCHlike the one before it, long and wearying, spent in the saddle with every muscle taut from the strain. Jacob rode with Elena behind him now, her weight steady at his back as they moved through the whispering pines, ever watchful for signs of pursuit. He had given the matter some thought before setting out that morning. With her behind him, his hands were free, his balance unencumbered should he need to turn or strike, and they would ride faster as well if it came tothat, his horse answering cleanly to his lead. The forest was thick and tangled here, close-grown enough to shield them from view, and he kept them well within its cover.
As the sun climbed high, Jacob felt the gnawing discomfort of hunger in his belly. He thought of Elena’s unease when he'd left her alone the previous night. He knew they couldn't count on having a fire every evening. He debated whether it was better to hunt now, keeping one eye on their surroundings and one on potential game. A meal cooked during daylight hours would draw less attention than flames after dark.
While he scanned the underbrush, looking for signs of easy prey, he kept half an eye on the sun. After several miles heading south this morning, with no hint of pursuit, he’d finally turned toward the west, to Elena’s great relief.
“Oh, praise God,” she’d said when she’d noticed the change of direction. “I dinna want to pester ye, but I was wondering when we were going to turn toward Strathfinnan.”
He'd nodded, his jaw tight. The westward path had been his preference too, but safety demanded they first put distance between themselves and their pursuers. Last night, when Elena had mentioned her family's worry, he'd thought of his own mother—how her hands had surely twisted in her skirts, how she likely paced the floor with fright. Yet he found comfort knowing his father would have steadied her before mounting his own search, assuring her that all would be well, as he’d done many times before.
No opportunity to hunt presented itself and thus, Jacob knew some relief when they came upon a settlement tucked inside a narrow glen.
They first saw the village as a scatter of roofs beyond the rise, huddled low against the land as though it had learned to make itself small. Smoke rose from two chimneys, thin and pale, carried sideways by the wind rather than straight up. Thefields surrounding it were narrow and carefully kept, stone walls mended with care, the earth worked close to the cottages and not much farther.
Jacob slowed the mare, not enough to stop outright, just enough to change the rhythm of their approach to show they posed no threat. He felt Elena shift behind him, felt the faint hopeful lift in her posture.
The road narrowed as it dipped toward the first cottages. No dogs barked and no voices carried. And yet, somehow the stillness seemed more deliberate than peaceful.
A woman stood near the outermost dwelling, young but worn in the way hardship taught quickly. She paused with a length of linen in her hands, half-hung on a low line strung between posts. A child stood close at her side, no more than four or five, one small hand fisted in his mother’s skirt, the other clutching a wooden cup.
