“Are ye feeling better?” Bess asked.
“Aye,” I replied, deciding not to tell them of the da’s anger toward me. I would simply send them back to the nursery.
“What are ye doing now?” Guinn asked, peering past me toward the stables. “Are ye going riding?”
“Nae exactly,” I hedged, unsure how much to reveal. The girls watched me expectantly, their curiosity palpable. “I’m looking for something in the stables.”
“What are ye looking for?” Bess asked, her eyes wide with interest.
“’Tis nae of importance for the two of ye,” I said. “Now off yer both go, back to the nursery.”
Bess’s eyes immediately filled with tears that twisted my heart. “Ye do nae want us with ye?” she whispered.
“Nay,” I assured her, “’tis nae that.”
“Then why send us away?” Guinn demanded, setting her hands on her hips in a gesture that bespoke of a lass who’d had to grow up too soon. I stared at her, unable to think of a believable reason. Her lip trembled slightly as she looked at me,then turned to her sister. “Come, Bess. Murieall does nae wish us around just as Da did nae for so long.”
“That’s nae true!” I said, but both girls had already turned away. Bess’s shoulders hunched beneath her cloak, and as Guinn took her hand, sniffles filled the air, then soft crying. My control snapped and took my good sense with it. “Wait!” I called. “Ye can come with me, but it must be our secret.”
They were both before me, hugging me, before I could even blink. Their joy warmed me through, and despite knowing the anger I invited from Munro should he find out I’d spent time with them, I couldn’t bring myself to recant my words or regret them.
After a moment, Guinn looked up at me. “So what are ye looking for?”
“A dagger,” I admitted finally. “It’s hidden beneath the floor in the third stall.”
Her eyes grew round with excitement.
“Like a treasure hunt?” Guinn breathed, already bouncing slightly on her toes.
“Aye,” I said.
“Who asked ye to find it?” Bess inquired.
I crouched to their level, refusing to lie. There’d been too much of that already, and my gut told me that to lie to them now would not please Isabella at all and make her less inclined to speak with me again. “A man asked me to locate it for his son. A man who has passed on.”
“Ye mean a ghost?” she whispered, excitement rather than fear in her voice.
I swallowed, knowing the only choice for me was to continue with the truth. “Aye, lass. I hear ghosts. Do ye remember me telling ye both on the first day I met ye, that I was cursed?”
They nodded.
“Well, I was wrong. The witch did nae curse me. She gave me a gift, and I must use it to help others.”
“Is it scary to hear the voices?” Bess asked, her voice hushed.
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But they just need help.” I straightened, casting a nervous glance across the courtyard. “Let’s be quick about it, then.”
As we slipped into the dim interior of the stables, the girls skipped ahead of me, whispering to each other in that conspiratorial way of children sharing an adventure. I followed more cautiously, fear of discovery making my shoulders tense, my movements wary. If Munro found us, his anger would be terrible to behold. Yet watching Guinn and Bess bounce with excitement ahead of me, I still couldn’t bring myself to regret including them.
I was more certain than ever that this is what it meant to truly live. You had to take risks, to follow your heart rather than carefully laid plans. And perhaps, just perhaps, this was the path that would lead me to Isabella’s voice once more, and through her, to the truth that might heal Munro completely.
The stable air hung thick with the scents of hay, horse, and damp earth as the three of us crept toward the third stall. My fingers trailed along the rough wooden walls, collecting splinters and dust as I went. A bay gelding watched us curiously, his large eyes following our movements as we slipped past. Guinn led the way, her small shoulders set with determination, while Bess stayed close to my side, her hand occasionally reaching for mine when a horse nickered or shifted in its stall.
“This is the third one,” Guinn announced in a stage whisper, stopping before a stall that housed a dappled mare. The horse regarded us with mild interest, munching contentedly on a mouthful of hay.
I glanced around nervously, half-expecting to see one of the stable hands appear. “We’ll need to move her,” I said, eyeing themare. “Guinn, can ye lead her out while Bess and I check the floor?”
Guinn nodded eagerly, slipping into the stall with the confidence of a child who’d spent her life around horses. She murmured soothingly to the mare, taking hold of her halter and guiding her out into the center aisle of the stable. The mare followed docilely.
