The air smelled of rosemary and mint, which had taken over the small garden under the window. Blake made a mental note to take some home with her.
Despite the obvious neglect, there was so much beauty. She could picture leaves on the vines that climbed the west wall, blossoms on the fruit trees, and flowers in the bare garden down the side.
‘Not quite as I remember it,’ Harlan said, pulling up the horse.
Blake’s gaze travelled up the wall to the moss-covered roof. ‘How long since you’ve been here?’
‘Too long.’ He nudged the horse into a walk and navigated the overgrown path to the stables out back.
She dismounted first, looking around at what was once the mounting yard. She rubbed the ground with the toe of her boot and found stone beneath the dirt and debris.
Harlan led the horse to one of the stalls, and while he was unsaddling it, Blake followed the sound of running water. The ground behind the stables sloped down to a creek that widened farther down. Returning to the stable for a pail, she went to fetch water for the horse. As she was coming back up the hill, she found him watching her.
‘I didn’t bring you here to work,’ he said.
She smiled at the ground. ‘I don’t mind, really.’
He took the pail from her when she reached him.
‘Are you allowed to carry heavy things?’ she asked, looking up at him.
He nodded and kept watching her. ‘I haven’t thanked you yet.’
‘For what?’
‘For saving my life.’
She was having difficulty forming coherent thoughts with him standing that close, but she did not move away. ‘I hope you didn’t bring me all the way here just to thank me?’
His expression turned serious. ‘I suppose I missed you.’
Blake pressed her hands to her sides. ‘I really didn’t think you were going to survive. I felt so sick when they carried you off.’
His eyes searched hers. ‘You told me to survive, so I survived.’ He stepped back. ‘Let me give this to the horse. Then we’ll brave a look inside.’
He placed the water in the horse’s stall and fetched the saddlebag he had brought with him. Everything she was feeling as she watched him seemed to be lodged in her throat.
His eyes narrowed on her when he returned. ‘What’s wrong?’
Everything.‘Nothing.’ She forced a smile.
The light bleeding in around the curtains cast eerie patterns over the furnishings in the main room. Some were covered with linen, the rest covered in dust. There was a fireplace built into the wall at the far end, to their left a small library, and to their right a kitchen.
‘Upstairs are the bedchambers,’ Harlan said, placing the bag down and going to open the curtains. Dust swirled around him. He moved to the fireplace and began stacking it with wood.
Blake walked around the room pulling linen off the furniture. She sank down into one of the fat cushioned chairs and looked around. ‘These are comfortable enough to sleep in.’
He turned to face her, sitting back on his heels. ‘Well, don’t fall asleep for too long. I don’t think your mother will appreciate me returning you home late.’
She studied him a moment. ‘Tell me why you brought me here.’
Picking up a dusty flint, he struck it until he got a flame. ‘I already told you.’
‘You wanted to thank me?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you missed me?’
