Keely
Somehow the fact that she had started to express a wish and then crossed it out hurt more than the rest of the letter combined.
He hunched his shoulders against the agony of his own rising self-hatred. Gods. He had broken the fledgling trust just beginning to grow between them once more. She had tried to do the right thing by him, and for their child. She had forgiven him, welcomed him, given him a family. And he’d thrown it all in her face.
He had to find a way to make this right. Apologize and beg for forgiveness. Immediately. Unequivocally. Waiting would be a disaster.
He had to explain that what he’d meant was that she was everything to him. That he was overjoyed by the idea of having a family together, and that it was terror of losing her that had made him react so badly. It was his fear speaking, not her, nor anything she’d done.
He had to fix this before it got any worse. And then he had to beg her to give him another chance. Gods. Another chance he did not deserve.
He dressed quickly, listening for Keely. Had she gone outside? The house was quiet and still.
Some soldier’s sense nudged him. It was too quiet. Something didn’t feel right. Where was Keely?
A shiver of foreboding teased up his spine, and he quickly strapped on his weapons. Knives. Sword. Crossbow.
Would Keely need a weapon? He rifled briefly through her open satchel. There were no weapons. But he did find his old, mended shirt. He lifted it, surprised to find it carefully packed in her things, and realized it smelled of sweet heather. Of her.
Gods. She’d been wearing it.
Panicky fear trembled up his spine. She had never given up on him. Not until now. Now there would be no more chances.
He made his way through the empty house and out to the fireside to find Jos and the other guards arriving back from their hunt with a small roe deer, congratulating themselves on their success.
Rafe sat nearby sorting through a basket of wild herbs while Alanna and Val made their way up the drive, back from their walk. But he didn’t see Keely.
“Where’s Keely?” he asked.
No one answered immediately, although the general hubbub faded.
His muscles pulled up tight along his shoulders as he fought to keep his voice calm. “Where. Is. Keely?”
Rafe stood. “I saw her about ten minutes ago, going around to the back, toward the outhouse. I assumed she’d finished and gone inside to you.”
“No. She… left.” Gods. Where the hell could she be?
Alanna gave him a worried look. “I’ll check.”
Within a minute, Alanna was back accompanied by two grim-faced guards. “The guards stationed at the back of the house moved away to give her some privacy. That was when the hunters got back, and they spent a minute talking with the men. After that, they went back to their posts, but never saw Keely again, so they assumed she’d finished up while they were admiring the deer.”
Fuck.
This couldn’t be happening. Tendrils of fear spread through him. Where the hell was she?
“I’ll look.” Jos leaped into the air, winding above them in an expanding spiral, searching.
Tor couldn’t wait. He had to do something. Anything. He strode around to the outhouse and banged on the rickety door before pushing it open. It was empty. Just like he’d known it would be.
He stepped back out into the watery sunlight and forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to stand, eyes closed, for a moment, calming his thoughts. Making himself concentrate.
And then he opened them again and considered the outhouse. It was hidden at the back of the farm, close to the outer ring of gorse—planted by some long-gone farmer hoping that the thick thorns would form a natural fence to protect the homestead. Behind the gorse was a rocky slope dotted with more gorse, sprinkled with the last of the year’s bright yellow flowers, and small stunted trees.
Tor strode up to the hedge. Only when he was standing almost on top of it did he see a narrow path zigzagging through the thorny bushes, perhaps made by the native wild goats searching for a gorse dinner. Gods. The dusty soil on the hillside beyond the hedge had been disturbed.
The hillside was bare for a few dozen feet and then covered in stunted trees and low bushes. It would have been easy to hide. Easy to watch. And terrifyingly easy to grab one small woman and carry her away.
Fuck.
