“I daenae ken. She willnae speak, I’m nae sure if shecanspeak, or if she’s just too frightened.” Ava glanced back at the girl, who was now eating more slowly, savoring each bite. “Her clothes are too nice for her to be one of ours, but she’s clearly been through somethin’ terrible.”
“Should we send word to the village? Ask if anyone’s missin’ a child?”
“Aye, but...” Ava frowned. “She was wanderin’ nearourvillage, but those clothes... I daenae recognize them. She might have come from farther away.”
“How far would a wee lass like that travel on her own?”
“I daenae ken. But I’m goin’ to find out.” Ava straightened her shoulders. “First, I’ll see if I can get her to tell me anythin’, or at least write her name if she kens how. Then we can start searchin’ for her family.”
“And if we cannae find them?”
Ava looked at the small girl sitting at the table, her thin fingers carefully breaking apart a bannock.
She thought of all the children here who’d been abandoned, forgotten, or orphaned.
“Then we’ll make sure she’s cared for,” Ava said quietly. “Whatever it takes. She’s nae goin’ to be alone. Nae if I can help it.”
Mrs. Crawford patted her arm affectionately. “Ye’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I ken, Ava lass.”
“Or the smallest brain, lettin’ meself get attached so easily.” But Ava was already smiling as she returned to the table. “Feelin’ better?”
The girl nodded, and this time there was the ghost of a smile on her lips.
“Good. Now, I ken ye daenae want to talk, and that’s perfectly fine. But I need to ken how to help ye find yer family. Do ye ken how to write?”
The girl’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically.
Ava felt a surge of relief. “Wonderful! Mrs. Crawford, do we have any paper? So this bonnie lass can write her name.” She turned to the girl. “Then we’ll change yer clothes and make ye comfortable.”
Mrs. Crawford slid a small piece of paper and a pencil across the table. The girl hesitated, then bent over it and wrote, in careful, deliberate letters: Esther.
"Esther." Ava smiled softly. "That's a beautiful name."
Something thugged at her heart. She knew she needed to help her find her family, and she was going to do it fast.
And if anything went wrong, she would shield the girl with all her might.
CHAPTER THREE
“Me Laird, there’s word from Glenkirk.”
Noah didn’t lift his eyes from the map spread across his desk, his finger tracing the radius he’d already searched twice.
Three days. Three days of riding from village to village, showing Esther’s description to anyone who’d listen, but coming up empty.
“What word?” His voice was rough from exhaustion and lack of sleep.
Elliot moved closer, and something in his tone caused Noah’s head to snap up. “The orphanage there. The one attached to St. Bride’s Church. Apparently, they took in a girl a few days ago—small, dark-haired, about eight years old?—”
Noah was already moving. “How far?”
“Two villages east of where she went missin’. It’s about an hour’s ride if ye push hard.”
“Ready, Shadow.” Noah grabbed his riding gloves from the desk. “Now.”
“Me Laird, wait—” Elliot caught his arm. “It might nae be her. It could be any lost child.”
“Then I’ll apologize for the disturbance and keep searchin’.” Noah pulled free, his jaw set. “But if there’s even achanceit’s Esther, I’m nae wastin’ another minute.”
