Chapter Six
The innyard had at last grown quiet, the final coach-and-four departed, and the suppertime rush not yet begun.
Dark fell early at this time of year, and Jamie had lingered long under cover of the hazel copse that edged the rear of the property.
He and his horse together, until even Midnight had grown restless.
He’d watched his brother William move about the yard. No sign of Sylvester—was Syl still here, part of the family business? He’d also had a glimpse of his father who, to his surprise and dismay, looked much older, his once-lithe body bent.
Had it been so long?
Of his mother, he’d caught nary a sight. She would be busy inside as always, minding the bar and seeing to the comfort of her customers, one of the things that made the Crosskeys so popular. Ordinary people, coming here, were made to feel important.
He appreciated that, but he was running out of time. As soon as it was full dark, he would meet with Torie at the foot of High Fell.
He hadn’t been certain it was where they should meet. To him, it felt too much like trying to replay the past, and that place had bad connotations. But it was a lonely spot, and one she’d insisted she could reach on foot.
“Do not come here,” she’d warned him again when they parted. “And whatever else, do not go near the vicarage.”
He had not. He would not. But the inn was another matter. He’d grown up here. The rhythm of it still seemed familiar. As he’d learned while away, there were wondrous places in the world, but very few offered love. For him, this was one of those.
He wanted to see his mother before he left for good. And, set to meet Torie soon, there was no time for her carrying written messages.
He would have to expose himself.
Aye, a lull had come. Now was the moment.
Looping Midnight’s reins over a branch of hazel, he walked out. The inn, long owned by his ancestors and over two hundred years old, had a hunched appearance. Lights shone from the windows, but the yard had grown dusky.
When he’d almost reached the stable, a man stepped out. Jamie’s heart skipped a beat. William?
But nay.
By the way the fellow moved, his white shirt catching the last of the light, Jamie recognized his father.
“Pa?” he called softly.
The figure froze, then swung to face him in surprise. Jamie reached him and they stood facing one another, Jamie taller than his father now.
“Am I seein’ a ghost?” Pa asked.
“Nay, Pa, ’tis me.”
“Jamie! By God!” All at once, he was pulled into a hard embrace.
The scents Pa always carried—tobacco smoke, hay, and a decided whiff of horses—enfolded him.
This man had taught him all he knew about horseflesh, and of devotion to those he loved.
“Jamie! I cannot believe it. Where have ye been, lad? We were sure ye were—”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Jamie?” Suddenly William was there also, gazing in amazement. The three of them stood in a huddle. The same, yet nay, not the same.
“Where ha’ ye been?” William, still taller than Jamie, echoed their father.
“Awa’.”
“But returned now.”
“Nay, Pa, I cannot stay. I wanted only to let ye know before I am awa’ again—”
Pa stared into his eyes for a moment before he spoke. “Will, go fetch yer ma. Quick, now.”
“Do not tell anyone else I’m here.” Jamie gave his brother a crooked smile. “They think I’m the highwayman.”
William sloped off without another word, moving like a shadow.
“Jamie,” Pa asked, “why do they think you’re a highwayman?”
“Because I am. It’s all right, Pa. ’Tis only a part I am playing. I’m actually a man o’ means now. I’ve done well for myself.”
“Ye’ve done well,” Pa repeated. “As I always thought ye would.”
“I came back for Torie.”
Jamie got no further. His mother came bursting out the rear door of the inn, complaining to William as she went. “Son, I’m too busy for games. There’s no one to mind the bar but that lass—”
She broke off when she saw Jamie and his father standing together. Gasped. Ran to him.
She wept. Brokenheartedly, she did, though she assured him between sobs that her heart was now whole for the first time. “My lad!” She squeezed him painfully tight. “My beautiful lad.”
And it felt good and right, being in her arms, just as it had done being in Torie’s. A place he belonged. His throat closed and a few tears escaped.
“Ye must come in,” she cried then. “Have some supper.”
“Ma, I cannot stay. I’m sorry. I only wanted ye to know—”
“What’s this?” Will cried.
This was a troop of red-coated soldiers. Had they not been so wrapped up in one another, no doubt they would have heard the soldiers’ approach long since, for the company entered the yard with a clatter, their leader, who rode at their head, already calling for service.
“What are they doin’ here?” Ma asked, distracted.
“Looking for a highwayman,” Jamie said.
He and his father exchanged glances.
“Get inside,” Pa said, and pulled Jamie into the stable, telling his other son, “Will, ye handle them.”
Jamie heard William sally forth and call ingratiatingly, “My good sirs, what can we do for ye this fine eve?”
“We need lodging. Food. Information. We’re looking for—”
Ma had accompanied Pa and Jamie into the stable, still clinging to her son. “My God,” she whispered. “They’re after ye?”
“Aye.” Jamie’s heart thudded in his chest. He could not allow himself to be caught. He had to make it away and meet with Torie.
This simply could not end badly once again.
“Go,” Ma said. “Rafe, take him out the back.”
“I’ve a horse waiting in the copse,” Jamie told them.
“Aye,” Pa said. “Once he’s in the saddle, Martha, there’s none can catch him.”
“Then go,” Ma said.
Jamie kissed her on the cheek. “I love ye, Ma. I’ll send word when I can. Try not to worry.”
“Ha! Ye worried me from the day ye were born, but I love ye still.”
He could hear the clamor of the soldiers in the yard and heard when Ma went out to greet them in turn. “Welcome, gentlemen, welcome! Hasten ye into the inn. We are always happy to provide for the king’s men. I have a fine roast ready to serve up, and only the best ale.”
The voices died away. Pa gusted a breath in Jamie’s ear. “Ye’d best hasten awa’. I don’t know what happened to ye before. Was it that bloody vicar, son?”
“It doesn’t matter what happened before. I have to meet Torie. Pa, I can’t live without her.”
“Aye, I know how that feels.” Pa directed a look out the door in Ma’s wake. “Love’s a rare thing and a hard mistress.”
William appeared in the stable doorway. “Ye’d best go now. Ma’s lured them inside. Brother, go with God.”
“And be safe,” Pa added, “whatever else ye do.”