Market day was drawing to a close, with merchants packing up their wares and villagers heading home with their purchases. Noah barely slowed as Shadow thundered into the square, scattering a group of chickens and causing several people to jump aside.
“Has anyone seen a wee lass?” Noah called out, his voice carrying across the square. “Eight years old, dark hair, probably lookin’ lost?”
An older woman with a basket of vegetables shook her head. “Nay, me Laird. When did she go missin’?”
“Over an hour ago.”
“An hour?” A man loading bags onto a cart frowned. “That’s plenty of time for a bairn to wander far. Have ye checked the other villages?”
Other villages? Christ. Esther could be anywhere.
“Which direction would a lost child most likely go?” Noah demanded.
The man scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Well, if she were followin’ the main road, she might’ve ended up in Glenmore. It’s only about two miles east. Or if she wandered into the woods?—”
Noah didn’t let him finish. He quickly turned Shadow around and headed east.
Please let her be safe. Please let her be unharmed.
He wasn’t a man prone to prayer, but as Shadow’s hooves covered the distance between villages, Noah found himself bargaining with any deity that might be listening. He’d give anything,anything, to ensure Esther’s safety.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the road as he rode. Every minute that went by felt like an eternity. Each empty stretch of road caused his chest to tighten with fresh worry.
“Faster, Shadow,” Noah urged, and the stallion responded with a burst of speed that would have impressed him under any other circumstances.
The rooftops of another village came into view on the horizon. Glenmore. It was smaller than the previous one, just a few buildings gathered around what seemed to be a church.
Let her be here. Please, let her be here.
Noah’s jaw clenched as he prepared to search yet another village. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t rest. Not until he found her.
CHAPTER TWO
“Ava! Ava, ye’re nae playin’ fair!”
“Am too!” Ava laughed, dodging around little Thomas as he lunged for the ball she’d just snatched from his hands. “Ye’re just too slow, wee man!”
“That’s ‘cause yer legs are longer!” six-year-old Maggie protested from where she’d collapsed dramatically on the grass, her freckled face scrunched in mock outrage. “Ye’re cheatin’ by bein’ grown!”
“I cannae help that I’m nae six anymore, Maggie.” Ava tossed the ball high in the air and caught it again, grinning at the circle of children surrounding her in the orphanage yard. “Besides, if ye all workedtogetherinstead of… Thomas, no bitin’!”
She’d barely gotten the words out when young Thomas launched himself at her legs with the determination of a tiny warrior.
Ava stumbled, laughing, and the ball flew into the air. Immediately, five children scrambled after it, their shouts of joy echoing off the stone walls of St. Bride’s Church.
“I got it! I got—nay, that’s mine!”
“Ye’re supposed topassit, Robbie!”
“I am passin’ it! To meself!”
Ava shook her head, still smiling as she watched the chaos unfold.
Afternoons like this, when she had a few hours between her morning chores and her evening shift at the tavern, were her favorite. The orphanage was small, housing maybe a dozen children at any given time, but it was always full of noise, energy, and life.
It was also severely underfunded, which was why Ava spent most of her small wages trying to keep it afloat. But that was a concern for later. Right now, she had?—
Who is this?
