Taryn bent to gather the rest of the berries from the bush when a branch snapped. She shot up, her eyes darting across the shadows. Her hand rested on the hilt of her dagger, but she made no effort to move. Her heart slammed into her ribs, calling back every fear she had carried for the last three years.
The English have returned. Or someone has seen the wanted sketches and come to claim their reward. This is it. My last night with my family, and I spent it sulking.
The seconds passed by painstakingly slowly. When no other sound came, when no man burst through the trees to grab her, Taryn let out the breath she had been holding. The cold steel of her dagger pressed against the clammy skin of her palm. In the other hand, squashed berries dropped their juices onto her sleeve, staining her fingers and fabric blue.
“Och, what a mess I have made over something as harmless as a rabbit on a midnight run.”
Kneeling, Taryn wiped the mess off her hand on the grass. She resigned herself to the fact that the children would simply have to share the berries in the morning. Working to get the last of the juice off, she thought idly that perhaps they would want to explore the woods and pick berries for themselves.
She smiled at the image of Elsie with more berries than the boys, her craftiness giving her the upper hand. Having decided that she would offer the excursion in the morning, Taryn stood and reached for the reins, ready to continue her patrol.
“Still in the habit of talking to yerself, I see.”
Before Taryn could turn to discover the owner of the dark voice behind her, something hard and heavy wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her side.
“Let me go!”
With every huff of air, Taryn contorted her body, throwing her head back to collide with her attacker’s nose before throwing her elbow into his gut as hard as she could. He let out a satisfying grunt. She tried to run as fast as she could while he was distracted with his own pain.
Her small victory didn’t last very long, however, as his arms reached out and pulled her back towards him once more. She hadn’t even heard the sound of his footsteps behind her before she was trapped once again. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds, leaving her without her sight or sense of direction. Her only chance was to get away from the man and hide until sunrise.
Using every bit of training she had gained over the past three years, Taryn did everything she could to get away. The only thing that changed was how tight the grip was around her ribs. It had taken only minutes before he was bruising her ribs. In a desperate, last attempt, Taryn threw her fist down, trying to hit anything within her reach.
“Oof,” he grunted.
The split second he had relaxed his grip was all Taryn needed to drop to the forest floor and out of his arms. As soon as she was free, she jumped up and started to sprint, her horse lost in the darkness of the woods.
“Get back here!” the man yelled.
She had only just begun to recognize the accent as decidedly Scottish and the drifting smell of rosemary and cedar that cut through the pine trees before something underfoot tripped her. She let out a string of curses as she fell.
Her head landed first, striking what she could only assume was a rock from the unyielding surface and cold. The world spun, forcing her to forget that she was laying in the snow. It took all of her might to roll onto her hands and knees without falling again.
With a gentle hand, she probed the back of her head, unsure if the wetness there was from the snow, the smashed berries, or blood. She didn’t have time to think about it.
He had found her again and was hauling her up. Any fight she might have had left in her was spent trying to force her roiling stomach to calm. Her eyes grew heavier and heavier, her limbs taking too much energy to hold.
“I have been looking for ye for a verra long time,” the man murmured, unaware that consciousness was slipping from her. “Ye have nay idea how happy I am to see ye again.”
