Except she had run away again, and now all of that progress might be lost.
He rode past the forest, taking the same route as he did the day he had found her. It had been an accident. He hadbeen exploring his lands, riding through the dense forest to familiarize himself with the area, when he stumbled upon a hunting cabin he hadn’t known existed. It was small, made of mostly wood with a woven straw roof. He had been surprised when he had seen smoke curling up from the chimney.
He had entered the cabin, expecting to find bandits, or worse, but instead he had found an old woman and a young girl. The woman had thrown herself between him and Daisy, arms spread wide and chin firmly set.
“This is Laird MacAinsley’s daughter, and ye willnae harm her!” she had cried.
“Iam the new Laird MacAinsley,” Finlay explained gently.
The woman gasped, and the child shrank further behind her. She was terribly skinny, and she shook like a tree in the wind.
Finlay had knelt down before her, giving her a reassuring smile. “I promise, I willnae harm ye.”
He shook the memory loose as he tried to focus back on the task at hand.
Once he was back inside the gate of his castle, he spotted his man-at-arms, Peter, speaking with a servant. He quickly dismounted his horse and approached them.
“Peter,” he called. “Any sign of her?”
“Nay, nae yet, me Laird,” Peter replied. “I was just comin’ to collect lanterns so me men and I expand our search.”
“Aye, me as well.” Finlay pinched the bridge of his nose.
The stress was beginning to get to him. If he didn’t find Daisy soon, he would go on a rampage to get her back.
Peter gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Daenae worry, we’ll find her. This is what? The second time in so many months? We’ve always found her safe and unharmed.”
“Aye, but it only takes one time for somethin’ to go wrong,” Finlay argued.
“Ye shouldnae worry so much about things that havenae happened,” Peter retorted. “All shall be well.”
“Me Laird!”
They both turned to see Rowena, Daisy’s nursemaid and the woman who had been with her in the cabin, lumbering down the stone steps towards them.
She was a kind elderly woman whom Finlay liked very much, yet he wished that she could keep a better eye on the young girl for all their sakes. There was a small bundle in her arms, and she held it out to Finlay once she drew close enough.
“I ken she didnae leave with much more than what she had on her, so once ye find her, she’ll be right cold, what with that storm and all,” she said.
“Thank ye, Rowena.” Finlay took the bundle gratefully.
Peter gasped, pointing towards something beyond the gate. “Me Laird, someone is ridin’ in!”
Finlay whirled, recognizing his missing horse instantly. The figure on top of the horse, however, was harder to make out. Their silhouette was so sharp against the setting sun that he could only tell it was a woman who was accompanying Daisy back home.
“One of the villagers must have found her,” Peter suggested.
But Finlay barely heard him. He was already running to meet them at the gate. “Daisy? Daisy!” he called, reaching them as they dismounted.
The woman set Daisy on her feet, only for her to scramble behind the woman’s mud-soaked skirts.
“Faither,” she greeted timidly.
Finlay turned to the woman, gratitude and appreciation hanging on the tip of his tongue, but then he paused. It took him a moment to recognize her. Dirt clung to her round face, andleaves stuck out of her wavy, frizzy brown hair, but he recognized that challenging look in her blue eyes.
“Finlay,” Thalia greeted. “Didnae ken ye were a faither now, but I guess I shouldnae be surprised.”
Her tone was light and teasing, but Finlay could see the exhaustion on her face. There was a story here, and he would get it from her. But first, he needed to attend to other matters.
