On the second night, during the dark hours before dawn, the stable door creaked slowly open and I went perfectly still.
Soft hoofbeats entered through the darkness, familiar even before I saw the horse. Moonlight filtered through the narrow windows, giving just enough light for me to make out Laurel’scloaked figure as she barred the stable door and led my horse toward his stall. She was back.
The simple sight of her struck me with such force that, for a moment, I forgot every speech I had prepared. I waited until she locked the stall door again before I moved. Keeping to the shadows, I crept up behind her.
“Glad to see my horse is back.”
Laurel whirled and threw a wild punch.
I caught her fist in my hand. “You need to learn how to punch better. That was pitiful.”
She dropped her fist and swallowed. “What…what are you doing here?”
“I heard some outlaw named Robin Hood stole my horse, and I was waiting for him to return it as he so kindly promised.”
Laurel opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again and inhaled, then blew out a steady stream of air. I’d never seen her at a loss for words before. But at least she wasn’t running away from me. That was progress.
“I have news,” I told her. “King Richard is coming back.”
Immediate hope flared to life in her eyes. “Really? When will he be back? How do you know?”
“The letter came in yesterday. Richard has been released and Prince John wants to draw up battle plans.”
“My father?” Laurel asked breathlessly. “Is he coming back too?”
“In about two weeks. He’s accompanying Richard.”
Her face broke into a wide smile. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” For a moment, I thought she was going to hug me. Her arms lifted slightly, and I held my breath like a fool, already imagining how it would feel to have her touch me again. But then she stopped herself, brought her arms down too, and patted her legs as though she had merely needed something to do with her hands.
“Good,” Laurel said. “I’m ready to be done here.”
“Me too,” I agreed, then added, “I don’t like being hated on all sides here.”
“Baron…” Laurel took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You were right about me and I was wrong. I’m sorry about what I said and how I treated you.”
It was more than I’d dared to hope for. “I’m sorry too,” I told her. “I said some things I shouldn’t have. I never meant to deceive you, you know.”
“I know.”
I took a step closer, encouraged that she didn’t move away. “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”
A spasm flickered across Laurel’s face that I didn’t have time to interpret. There was a clanking sound that was growing closer—a guard on patrol duty. I grabbed Laurel and spun with her out of sight of the window until we were pressed against the wall.
“Hey,” she began to protest, but I covered her mouth with my hand. She jerked against me, but I held her still.
“Shh,” I whispered against her hair. “Someone’s outside.”
Laurel went motionless. We were so close that I could feel the rise and fall of her breathing. Moonlight cut through the darkness in a thin silver line across her cheek, and the rest of her felt warm where she was pressed against my chest. The clanking walk of the soldier on duty grew louder and louder. When it sounded as though he was just outside the stable, only feet from us on the opposite side of the wall, he paused.
A swish sounded, then several loud gulps, and a long, loud belch followed. Laurel’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. I tightened my hand over her mouth just enough to warn her. Now was not the time. I could imagine exactly how much she would enjoy leaping out and frightening an unsuspecting guard, but I was not in the mood to explain toanyone why a woman had been hiding in the stables with the Sheriff of Nottingham in the middle of the night.
I hardly dared breathe.
The guard lingered for what felt like an eternity. I tried to focus on every sound outside, to decipher whether he was merely drinking or had noticed something amiss, but Laurel’s nearness kept dragging my attention back onto her. After weeks of distance between us, having her so close was its own kind of danger. Finally, the guard’s clanking footsteps resumed and faded into the night.
Only then did I realize that Laurel had remained uncharacteristically quiet since I had forced her out of sight from the window. Slowly, I eased the pressure of my hand from her mouth and began to drop my arm, but Laurel raised her fingers to meet mine. I half-expected her to shove my hand away, or perhaps twist my wrist hard enough to remind me never to try that again. Instead, she drew my hand down to her waist and ran her fingers lightly up my arm.
