Chapter 20
Evan had known for the better part of a mile that he was being followed.
It began as a prickle between his shoulder blades—that old instinct, honed by years of running. But he didn’t turn to look.
Instead, he shifted slightly in the saddle and let his horse lengthen his stride. The ridge sloped down toward the woods—dense, dark, and threaded with narrow tracks only someone raised on this land would know.
How had MacInnes’ men found him so quickly? Not many knew this route. Had others been lying in wait? Had they watched him leave Niall’s manor house and then followed? If that was the case, it was troubling. Evan had detected nobody as he’d slipped away which meant his skills had failed him.
The horse snorted as the grass gave way to uneven earth and roots. As he entered the woods light was swallowed quickly, branches knitting overhead. Evan slowed his mount, listening.
There. Faint hoofbeats in the distance.
He veered off the main trail and into a narrower cut through hawthorn and low birch, ducking beneath branches. He rode another hundred yards before dismounting in a small hollow shielded from view.
“Easy,” he murmured to the horse, stroking his neck.
He dismounted and led the animal into a thick stand of gorse and bracken, looping the reins around a branch, then slipped a knife from its sheath.
Keeping low, he moved forward on silent feet, weaving through the brush until he reached a point where the main trail was visible through a break in the foliage.
He crouched behind a thick cluster of broom and waited. The hoofbeats grew louder, closer. Carefully, he counted them. One horse. Only one. Yet he’d heard three earlier. That suggested the others had fanned wide, sweeping around to try and flush him out. Fine. Let them try.
The hooves slowed to a halt not twenty yards from where he crouched. Leather creaked. A bridle jingled softly. He heard the thump of boots on ground as someone dismounted.
He couldn’t see the figure clearly through the layered branches, only a dark shape stepping onto the path and pausing to look around. Instinct took over and he exploded from cover in a single, fluid surge.
One hand clamped around the figure’s arm, momentum carrying them both to the ground. They hit the earth hard, and he threw his weight against the figure, pinning it under him, knife flashing as he pressed it against the exposed throat.
“Who are—”
The words died in his throat as he found wide blue eyes staring up at him—shocked, frightened. Rich chestnut hair spread out like a halo around her head.
He jerked his hand back as if burned, the knife thumping into the leaves. “Ruby?”
He barely heard the word over the rush of blood in his ears. He could have killed her. He dragged a shaking hand down his face.
“Dear God, Ruby. Are ye hurt?”
She blinked up at him and swallowed a few times. “No, I’m fine. Bloody hell, Evan, remind me never to sneak up on you.”
He became acutely aware that he was pinning her beneath him, that he was leaning so close he could feel her warm breath against his chin and the curve of her lips was only inches from his. Shock warred with something far more dangerous: the desire to kiss her.
The urge hit him like a blow—primal, overwhelming. It took an effort to push himself upright. He rose and stepped back, hauling her to her feet.
“What are ye doing here?”
“What do you think? If you thought I was going to let you disappear without so much as a by-your-leave, then you’re an idiot!”
The corner of his mouth almost twitched. Idiot. Aye, that was one word for him. He could think of several others. A surge of fierce, irrational elation flared through him. She had followed him, refused to let him go. Did that mean—
Just as quickly, the elation became fear. “Ruby, ye canna be here. It isnae safe. MacInnes—”
“Sent men to the manor house. I know. Hamish told us. They’re safely tied up back at Charlie’s place.”
“It doesnae matter,” he said, shaking his head. “MacInnes will just send more. The only place safe for ye is far away from me.”
“So that’s your answer? You’ll just keep running? How’s that worked out for you so far?”
He pressed his lips into a flat line. “That isnae fair.”
“Nothing about this is fair! You think it was fair to disappear without a word? To let me think you’d left because you didn’t want me?”
Her voice cracked a little and the sound twisted Evan up inside. The last thing he’d ever wanted was to cause her pain. He reached out. “Ruby, I’m sorry.”
“No.” She backed off. “Listen to me. I burned the map.”
“What? What map?”
“The one Charlie drew for me. The one that led to the portal. I burned it.”
He wasn’t following. “Portal?”
She met his gaze. “The portal that would take me home.”
Evan blinked as her words registered. Wait. Did that mean—?
“I decided to stay,” she continued. “Before you ran.”
The air left his lungs in a whoosh. “Ye what?”
“I was going to tell you on our ride. That I wanted to build a life here. With you.”
Evan struggled to form words. “Ye...ye were?”
She lifted her chin and glared at him defiantly. “I’m staying. With you. This is my choice,” she said fiercely. “You don’t get to make it for me. And you are not running anymore.”
She was beautiful when she was angry with him. Lord help him, she was beautiful no matter her expression. How could he bear to leave her? But how could he bear to stay when it would put her in so much danger? He shook his head, trying to order his ragged thoughts.
“How did ye find me?” he asked.
“Niall guessed the route you’d take. He’s waiting further down the hill.” She hesitated. “With Bryce.”
Evan’s gaze snapped to hers. “Bryce? As in my brother, Bryce?”
“Unless you know anyone else with that name.”
“What the hell is he doing here?”
“He rode with us. He knows some things about MacInnes.”
Evan barked a humorless laugh. “Oh, I’m sure he does.”
“Bryce thinks you might have some important information.”
“I dinna care what Bryce thinks!” He had never trusted his older brother—not after the fracture in their family, not after the decisions Bryce had made in the name of title and legacy. “And I willnae subject myself to his scorn and judgment! I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.”
“I don’t think that’s why he came,” Ruby said. “He’s been after MacInnes for a long time. I think...I think he might be able to help.”
Evan snorted. “Help? Bryce Campbell, the vaunted Earl of Newborough, helps nobody but himself!”
Ruby glared at him. Wind had tugged her hair loose and there was dirt on her cheek from the fall.
“Do you always have to be so stubborn? Maybe Bryce knows something that can help. Maybe he doesn’t.
But if there’s even a chance he can stop MacInnes, a tiny chance that he could help us be together, wouldn’t you want to take it? ”
He searched her face and saw both fear and determination in her eyes. He closed the remaining distance between them and his hands came up to frame her face gently.
“Of course I would,” he said softly. “But I need ye to be safe. I couldnae carry on breathing if anything happened to ye.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But I don’t want safe if it means being without you.”
He closed his eyes. It was her choice to risk herself for him. But how could he let her do that? She didn’t understand what she was asking. MacInnes would use her. Threaten her.
Unless there was another way. Unless Bryce truly did know something that could help them bring MacInnes down. And unless he, Evan, was able to take that step towards trusting his eldest brother.
It felt like a gulf too vast to cross. And yet... he would take that leap. For her.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “With God as my witness,” he murmured. “If there’s a way for us to be together, I swear I’ll find it.”
She smiled, fierce and bright. “That’s all I’m asking.”
He stepped back and retrieved his knife from the leaves, sheathing it. “Are they far?”
“On the ridge behind us.”
He nodded once, then moved to retrieve his horse from the thicket. The beast snorted softly as he was led out, whickering to Ruby’s mount.
The wind felt sharper, the air colder, as they rode back. Or was that just his own trepidation talking?
Ahead, silhouetted against the pale sky, two mounted figures waited. Niall. Bryce.
Evan’s jaw tightened. He felt that old storm rising in him again, the one he had spent years trying to bury beneath indifference and swagger.
Anger, sharp and familiar. Betrayal, sour as old wine.
But beneath both, deeper and more dangerous, lay hurt.
It throbbed inside him like an open wound left to fester, sore and aching.
Bryce sat tall in the saddle, watching him and Ruby approach.
The years had not softened him. If anything, they had hardened him.
His expression was cold, and his eyes held the same penetrating assessment they always had.
Aye, there were a few more lines around his eyes and perhaps the faintest hint of gray at his temple, but his eldest brother was still an imposing figure who wore his power and wealth like armor.
The Earl of Newborough. Evan wondered if Bryce ever remembered being simply his brother.
As they closed the final stretch, Bryce’s gaze locked onto his and all of a sudden Evan felt like he was seventeen again, standing in the great hall with mud on his boots and fury in his chest as the lawmakers announced Bryce’s intention to contest their father’s will and take everything for himself.
And yet, to his surprise, that wasn’t the only memory that surfaced.
He remembered Bryce lifting him onto a pony when he was barely tall enough to reach the stirrups, Bryce stepping between him and their father’s temper, absorbing the brunt of it with silent defiance.
He remembered laughter. Stolen apples. Rope swings.
River-swimming and mock sword-fights in the barn.
When had it fractured? When had Bryce stopped being his brother and become only the earl?