“Mother…” She felt her skin heat. “Donotbeg him for help.”
They didn’t need the money that badly.
They wouldneverneed the money that badly.
She took a step in their direction, then stopped, glaring at them both. What was she going to do? It wasn’t like she could physically throw the witch hunter out of the house. He was too big, and her mother would never forgive her.
“Rowan will guide you to the fort,” her mother was saying. “She’ll help you find your men, and when you return, you can use your influence to secure her a place in the Academy. She’s already a good healer. You’ve seen that for yourself. I’ve taught her all that I know. She only needs the formal mark to make it official.”
The captain frowned, clearly not liking the idea.
Good.
She didn’t like it either. Let her mother be angry with him for rejecting it.
He shook his head. “Rowan would be more hindrance than help to me. She doesn’t know anything about witches. She’s too weak to fight. She’s afraid of the fort.”
Ignorant.
Weak.
Scared.
Well, she supposed it was good to know how he felt about her.
She glared at the side of his head. “I’m standing right here.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Tell her you’re not going.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He turned back to her mother. “She won’t listen to my commands.”
She might, if his commands weren’t so stupid.
“Tell me the truth,” her mother pressed. “If it were someone else offering to serve as your guide, someone adept at woodcraftand tracking and familiar with the area, a trained healer who might help your men should they be injured, would you turn them away?”
Rowan regarded the witch hunter with grim amusement.
His blue eyes flicked to her and away. A grimace twisted his handsome mouth. You could almost see his sense of guilt fighting with his sense of duty. He felt some responsibility for their situation.
He should.
He didn’t want to bring them more harm, which was good she supposed. But his men were missing, likely in danger, and he needed to find them quickly.
She wondered which would win out—guilt or duty? His sense of responsibility for his men or his desire to keep innocent people out of the witch’s path?
If it were any other circumstance, she’d enjoy watching him squirm.
“I would ask her for help,” he said finally, heavily. “I would pay her handsomely for her time and the risk.”
He’d answered her mother’s question, but he stared back at her, searching her expression for some sign that she was willing. She scowled at him, and he turned his face away.
Her mother smiled, tasting victory. “Then this is why God has sent you to us, Captain. We can both help each other to do His work. It’s an answered prayer.”
Rowan laughed. She could almost believe that.
She took a step closer. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m not risking my life to help him.”
