Chapter Six
Jo seized Ruby, throwing both arms around her thick, furry neck to keep her from attacking the soldier, who hobbled down the street behind the small band of soldiers giving chase after the two giant Scotsmen, who had just ruined her life.
“Come on, girl, back inside.” Jo shut the door behind her. At once, a whimper of desperation fled her lips as she slumped to her knees in front of her shattered loom, her arms hanging in limp defeat at her side.
“I don’t understand,” she croaked, taking in the surrounding destruction.
Hand shaking, she picked up the shuttle, the only wooden piece to have survived the trauma of being crushed beneath the weight of no less than three men, two of whom had been massive in size.
The piece slid from her fingertips back on top of the rubble that had once been her livelihood.
Tears flooded her eyes, but she shook them away.
Raising her eyes heavenward, she gasped. A vast, jagged hole in the thatch revealed a patch of cheery blue sky, which mocked her with its brightness.
“Blast them all,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands once more.
Her one consolation was that she hadn’t been sitting at her loom when the first of the giant men rained down from the cloudless sky.
Mere seconds before he plummeted into her life, she had crossed the room to fetch some water; however, when her landlord saw the state of his property, she might just wish she had suffered the same fate as her loom.
With a sigh, she knelt and stroked her hand across a piece of the soft fabric tangled amid the wood and yarn.
“If, in your wisdom,” she began to pray aloud, “you saw fit for men to drop through my roof like gigantic and loutish rain drops, could they not have held off long enough for me to finish this one job?”
Ruby whimpered, placing her big head on Jo’s lap.
“What am I to do?” she muttered, stroking Ruby’s thick fur.
Staring at her broken loom, emotion knotted in her throat, but she leapt to her feet, defiant.
“No crying,” she gritted, then looked down at Ruby.
“And that goes for you, too. If we can breathe, we can fight, remember?”
I believe in ye.
Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, fueling her spirit and courage to new heights. Again, she ran her hand across the intricately designed fabric. It was beautiful, her best yet. Mayhap the tailor wouldn’t notice that it was short by a hand’s length.
She took a deep breath. “Ruby,” she declared. “We carry on as planned.”
Now, she had to untangle the mess of splintered wood. “Join me in praying that the cloth is undamaged.”
When the sky above her was painted with streaks of pinks and golds, she finished examining the fabric, freed from the remains of her loom.
Her heart swelled as she took in the exquisite detail and rich colors.
Not a single hole marred its beauty, and although there were several snags, she felt they did little to diminish the overall quality.
“With any luck, the tailor will share our opinion,” she said to Ruby while she folded the length of cloth and placed it carefully in her leather satchel.
Feeling confident, she slid her slippers on, seized Ruby’s leash, and threw open the door, ready to sprint to the tailor’s shop before he left for the day.
But just as she stepped outside, she locked eyes with her lecherous landlord.
Quickly shutting the door behind her to conceal the damage, she glanced up at the roof.
The side that showed was free of man-sized holes.
With relief, she smiled at her landlord in greeting.
As long as he did not venture to the back side of his property, he shouldn’t be able to tell anything was amiss.
And if she could still get the promised sum from the tailor, she might be able to pay someone to fix the roof before MacLemore was any wiser.
“How is my favorite little weaver?” The scent of stale beer assailed her nostrils.
“Late,” she said in a clipped tone. “If you’ll excuse me, Master MacLemore, I must be off.”
“Not so fast,” he said, blocking her path. “I have yet to drink in your beauty.”
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” she said under her breath.
His eyes narrowed on her. “What did you say?”
“I said that I think I’m hardly a vision at the moment,” she lied, pushing her disheveled hair from her eyes. “I’ve been working all day. I’m sweaty. My tunic is filthy.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” With a leering smile, he leaned closer, but Ruby growled, baring her teeth. MacLemore’s eyes darkened for a moment, but then a smile, dripping with insincerity, curved his lips. “How’s Ruby this eventide?”
“She’s fine,” Jo blurted. “Now, if you will only let me pass. I really must be going.”
Still, MacLemore didn’t budge. Jo swallowed a shriek of frustration.
Before Ruby had come into her life, she might have been nervous.
Her landlord used to be all hands, touching her waist, her lower back, grazing his greasy fingers down her cheek.
But Ruby’s bared teeth had put an end to his continuous pawing.
Still, there was little she could do to fend off his spoken advances.
It wasn’t as if Jo could sic Ruby on her landlord, not unless she wanted to lose the roof over her head—or what little roof there was left.
“Master MacLemore, I really am in a hurry.”
His leering smile stretched wider, revealing yellow, crooked teeth. “I appreciate you have somewhere else to be, but we’ve our own account to settle. Have you forgotten what day it is?”
She swallowed the knot that rushed up her throat. “I’ve not forgotten. You will have your rent, but I must take this to Jeremiah before he closes the shop.”
He gave her a knowing smile. “Your coffers need filling then?” He started to step toward her, but, once again, Ruby’s low growl changed his mind.
He scowled at her dog before turning falsely kind eyes on her.
“I can make it easier for you, Jo. I know how hard you struggle, supporting your sick mother and yourself . What you need is a man to take care of you, a man like me.”
“Your wife might disagree with you,” she said pointedly.
He gave a grunt of disapproval.
Giving her chin a lift, she dipped in a curtsy before saying, “If you will excuse me, I’ll bring you the money owed on the morrow.”
He considered her for a moment. “How is your mother?”
“She is well enough,” Jo lied.
“With more coin ye could pay for a surgeon,” he rasped. “I can help make her well again.”
Jo’s chest tightened. Nothing could make her mother well again.
Her health had been failing even before they’d been forced to flee Toonan, but seven months ago Clara’s condition had worsened.
She’d lost her ability to walk and hadn’t the strength to even hold a cup of water.
Just the mention of her mother brought Jo back to the urgency of the day.
Her rent was not the only payment due; the Prioress would be expecting the promised coin for her mother’s care.
Get out of my way, you lecher, she longed to scream.
If she didn’t make it to the tailor, all would be lost—she would no doubt face debtors’ prison and then what would happen to her mother?
The golds and pinks slashing the sky above were darkening, taking on a violet hue.
The hour for Vespers was upon them. She stepped sideways, pulled her hood over her head, and clutched the folds of her cloak together with her free hand to give nothing for MacLemore’s roving gaze to look upon. “I’ll just be going.”
Again, he shifted to block her way.
“Don’t fret if your purse is short this month.” Licking his lips, his gaze traveled the length of her body, despite her effort to shield herself with her cloak. “We can always come to an agreement.”
“No need,” she bit out, resisting the urge to smack the salacious grin off his face. “I will pay in full.”
He dared to step closer, despite Ruby’s warning growl. “Let me taste those sweet lips and you can forget this month’s rent.”
With the state of his roof as it was, she swallowed the line of insults aching to burst free from her so-called sweet lips.
She pushed against his chest. “Come along, Ruby,” she said, then turned on her heel and hastened down the dirt street in the opposite direction, deciding it would be quicker to take the long way than to escape her landlord’s stubborn advances.