Chapter Twenty Six
Quinn jerked awake. He was on his knees at Catarina’s bedside, his head resting on his folded arms. He looked up. His breath caught when his eyes met Catarina’s sleepy gaze. “I did not mean to startle you,” she whispered.
Hair clung to her forehead. He watched a bead of sweat drip down her temple.
A smile so wide it ached spread across his face.
He jumped to his feet, looking for Abigail who still slept, her head resting on the table.
“Abigail, wake up,” he called. When she did not stir, he crossed the room and gave her shoulder a shake.
Slowly, her head lifted. Her violet eyes squinted up at him. “Her fever broke,” he said.
Abigail shook the sleep from her head and hurried to Catarina’s bedside. Slowly, a smile curved Abigail’s lips. “That is the power of love,” she said. “No finer medicine in the world.”
Quinn knelt beside Catarina and clasped her hand. Her breaths were coming deep and even.
“Where am I,” she said weakly.
“We’re in the village of Mathas,” Quinn said.
Abigail chimed in then, “Aye, and in my cottage. My name is Abigail. Ye gave us quite a scare, my lady.”
Catarina smiled at Abigail, but then turned back to look at Quinn, her brow drawn. “I am so sorry. I should have told you when I first cut my foot.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Nay, lass. There’s no need to be sorry.” He brought the back of her hand to his lips. “My heart is full with the sight of ye. I thought I was going to lose ye.”
She smiled. “Not this day. That I promise you, Quinn MacVie.”
“I believe ye,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Abigail stood then and crossed to the door. Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders she said, “I am going to fetch more Willow Bark. Yer head is going to start to pound soon. Ye’ll want some relief from the pain.”
“Thank ye,” Quinn said before turning back to Catarina.
After the door closed behind Abigail, Catarina said, “Are ye not worried that she might tell someone about us?”
Quinn shook his head. “She could have left at any point during the night. There’s no reason to believe she will do so now. Let me get ye some broth.”
He crossed to the pot and ladled some of the steaming brew into a wooden bowl.
Then, supporting her head, he helped her sip it down.
After she drank the last drop, he stood to refill the bowl but froze when a knock sounded at the door.
He motioned for Catarina to be silent. Grasping the hilt of his dirk, he crept toward the window.
With his back pressed against the wall, he lifted the hide just enough to glimpse sidelong out the window to the door.
His tense shoulders relaxed when he spied a tell-tale hat with tall feathers and a ring of heather.
He lowered his blade and turned back around, smiling at Catarina.
“Not to worry. He’s a friend.” Quinn opened the door. “Good morrow, Pete.”
“Good morrow, yerself,” Pete said, shuffling inside. His eyes went straight to the bed. “Look there,” he said, smiling. “Yer a better color today.”
Catarina smiled.
“This is Pete,” Quinn said to her. “He brought us here to Abigail’s.” Then Quinn shifted his gaze to the old man. “Have ye come then to check on us?”
Pete nodded. “Aye, I did that, and also I’ve come to beg a favor. I need a strong back.”
“What has happened?” Quinn asked.
Pete shrugged. “I was driving my horses down the pass just as some cattle crossed. My wagon overturned, scattering my friends to the wind.” He winked pointing to the new stuffed bird on his hat. “I did catch a few mind, but I cannot right my wagon alone.”
Quinn put his hand out and rested it on the old man’s shoulder. “I owe ye that and more, but I do not wish to leave my lass all alone in her condition. Is there anyone else ye could ask?”
Pete scuffed his foot on the ground. “’Tis just that I’m not well liked in these parts.”
Quinn paused. He hated to leave Catarina, but he was indebted to Pete. Finally, he turned to her. “We owe this man our lives. This one favor I must do.”
Catarina nodded, her lids growing heavy.
“I will not delay,” he vowed. “Rest, my love. I will be here when ye wake.”
Catarina savored the feel of Quinn’s lips when he kissed her goodbye.
She smiled at him but was too weak to wave as he headed toward the door.
She kept her eyes trained on his broad shoulders as he stepped outside.
When the door shut, a chill coursed up her spine, and for a moment, she was afraid.
But a haze of fatigue soon laid claim to her mind.
Her body ached. She was too weak to even sit up. In moments, she succumbed to sleep.
She knew not how long she slept when suddenly she jerked awake, a loud noise still echoing in her mind.
Her hands shook as she brought them to her face and wiped her weary eyes.
Then she struggled to lift her head. Her breath hitched.
Three knights stood in the small cottage, the visors on their helmets pulled low so that she could not see their faces, but by the crest on their surcotes, she knew they were from Ravensworth.
She opened her mouth to scream, but then another man, suddenly, filled the doorway.
The sight of him stole her breath. His face she knew all too well.
Fear gripped her heart as a sickening smile slowly spread his lips wide. He eased the door shut behind him.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Rupert said. “I’ve crossed mountains. I’ve slept on hard ground.” He pushed past the other knights and crossed to her beside. Before she could take her next breath, he bent over, his face hovering just above her own. “You have been a very bad girl.”
She shrank back. Her eyes darted across the room, looking imploringly at the faceless guards.
But they made no move to help her, and then she remembered why.
They looked at her and saw murderer, someone who had stolen away the heir of Ravensworth.
She thanked God above in that moment, even while the enemy breathed down her neck, for giving Quinn the foresight to not have kept Nicholas in their company.
Because if they had, he would be done for.
She weakly gripped the bedclothes and fought to sit up, but she could barely raise her neck. She knew then she could not run. There was no escape. The fever had stolen her strength, but not yet her resolve. She screamed for Quinn and Abigail, but the sound wheezed from her aching body.
A chilly laugh erupted from Rupert’s lips. “Scream all you want, whore. Quinn is dead.”
AS QUINN WALKED BESIDE Pete he glanced at the new addition to Pete’s hat—a stuffed male Robin.
Quinn could not help feeling like the Robin were, indeed, watching him.
It was so lifelike he half expected it to fly away, but there it stayed, seemingly content on its perch, forever memorialized on an old man’s hat.
Quinn shook his head in wonder of how the people of Mathas could dislike such a kind man.
Although eccentric to be sure, he obviously meant well.
They carried on, slowly walking through the outskirts of the village onto what Pete called Hill Pass.
Straightaway, Quinn saw Pete’s overturned wagon and a dozen empty cages, with doors open wide, scattered about the roadside.
Quinn clamped his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “All yer hard work. I’m sorry for the loss of yer animals.”
Pete shrugged. “’Tis the nature of trapping. Cages fill up only to be emptied once more.” He shrugged again. “If I starve, I starve. No one will miss an old codger like me.”
Pete reached for the wagon, but Quinn stayed his hand.
“Save yer strength. I’ve rested since last ye saw me.
” Quinn bent low, bringing his back beneath the side of the wagon.
Straining with all his might, he rocked it back on its wheels.
“Now, do me a favor,” Quinn said through ragged breaths.
He leaned against the side of the wagon.
“That was no easy matter. Let the cows go first next time.”
Pete laughed and clapped his hand on Quinn’s back. “Thank ye kindly.”
Quinn smiled and reached into his tunic pocket and took out a few coins. “Here,” he said to Pete. “Take this. Had ye not stopped to help me yesterday, ye might not have been on this road today when the cattle came through.”
Pete made no move to take the money.
Quinn reached out and took the old man’s gnarled hand and pressed the coins to his palm. “Take it,” Quinn said. “I’ll not let ye starve.”
A rush of air fled Pete’s lungs as he looked up at the man with honest, black eyes. Then he looked down at the coin in his hand, which had been freely given with no true fault to bear. He closed his palm and looked Quinn dead in the eye. “Run,” he said.
Quinn’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
“Run!”
Quinn heard the unsheathing of a blade behind him, and his heart sank.
Pete scuffed on his heels toward the thicket.
Quinn watched as the robin bobbed above the bushes and then disappeared into the trees before he slowly turned around to face three knights, each man bearing the Ravensworth crest on his shield.
Quinn reached for the dirk in his boot, but his fingers swiped only air.
He scowled. He had left it on the table back at Abigail’s where Catarina was all alone.
Rage surged through him, rage at himself for trusting the old man, rage at the men who would do Catarina harm.
He balled his fists at his sides and glared at the knights in front of him.
“If you want me, come and take me,” he snarled.
One of the soldiers stepped forward, his sword at the ready, but then the knight in the middle snapped, “Stay where you are. Do nothing unless I issue an order.”
Quinn narrowed his eyes, trying to see past the knight’s helmet to the man beneath. He tensed when the knight in command walked toward him. He raised his sword, but not to swing. Instead, he sheathed his blade and pulled his helmet off. Quinn knew him at once.
“Sir Stephen,” Quinn said, grabbing his forearms. “Ye’re her friend. Ye’re dear to her. Ye of all men know she didn’t do it. Ye know she didn’t kill yer brother. She could never hurt anyone.”
Stephen stared Quinn hard in the eye, but then a long breath fled his lips. Shaking his head, Stephen sunk to his knees in front of Quinn. “I do not know what to believe, not anymore.”
Quinn reached down and grabbed Stephen’s surcote, jerking him to his feet. “Aye, ye do,” Quinn gritted in his face. “Ye know she is innocent. Ye just need to find the courage to believe it.”
Stephen pushed away from Quinn. He sucked in a hard breath. “Yes, you are right. I have ignored my heart for too long.” Then he turned to his men. “We have to stop Rupert.”