Shock raced through Willow. Hehadn’tleft.
Roland presented her with a cabbage. “The merchant said you could have this for helping him.”
Willow took it but wasn’t sure what to do with it. She had no bags, and it certainly wouldn’t fit in her armor. But at the very least, she could eat part of it now. “I’ll split it with you.”
Roland smiled. His front two teeth seemed too big for his mouth, but Willow imagined he would grow into them. She took her dagger from her belt and cut the cabbage in half, handing him one side.
He eagerly took it and bit into it. Then, he scrunched up his nose and turned his lips down. “’Tis horrible.”
“It really should be boiled with onions. Then it will taste more like onions.” Willow headed for the door. She would meet Christian at the inn.
Roland stared down at the cabbage. “I’ll save it for later.”
She opened the door to find Christian reaching for the handle. She pulled back, startled and breathless. He was magnificent. His hair had dried, and the curl she loved so much fell over his forehead. His piercing blue eyes gazed at her. His jaw was square and strong.
“You’re up,” Christian greeted. “The rain finally stopped. We should leave.”
Willow nodded in agreement and swallowed in a dry throat. She cast a glance at Roland. “Thank you for allowing us to stay in the stables.”
Roland shrugged. “It was nice ta have company.”
Willow and Christian walked across the yard toward the road.
He gazed at the cabbage in her hand. “I see you have a meal to break your fast.”
Willow leaped over a puddle. “It’s a thank you from the merchant.”
Christian nodded. “Looks delicious,” he said sarcastically.
She held it out to him. “You can have it.”
He held up a hand. “No, thank you. I think I’d rather starve.”
Willow watched him for a moment, a secretive smile stretching over her lips. He had not left her. She really couldn’t believe it.
“I’ve secured a steed for our travels,” he informed her.
Her eyebrows rose. A man of many surprises. “Where’d you get a horse? Did you steal it?”
Christian inhaled. “No. I’ll leave the stealing to you. I ran into some friends.”
She ignored the insult. “And they just gave you a horse?” she asked in disbelief.
He paused and turned to her. “Your friends would do the same if they could.”
She nodded. “Some of them. If they could.”
A grin of victory slid across his lips as he continued down the road.
She sighed softly. He was so handsome. Traveling with him would not be a bad thing. She tossed the cabbage into the forest. “Where’s the horse?” she asked, scanning the road for it.
“In town. The steed is at the blacksmith’s being shoed.” He shrugged. “It’s as good a place as any to start searching.”
Willow agreed. She liked that he had a plan. It was unexpected.
They walked into the village, moving past small homes made of wattle and daub and shops. The gray clouds muted the sunlight, and the road was wet, turning the dirt into thick mud that stuck to the bottom of Willow’s boots.
The two-story smithy had a small yard for housing the horses. Willow perused the area as they advanced toward the entrance. A brown palfrey with a black tail and mane was tied to a tree. A boy with auburn bowl-cut hair entered the yard with a shovel.
