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Bandit was a good horse, but Minnie was mountain-bred. She’d get Percy back unassisted, able to jump rocks and gullies like a billy goat. All Albie could hope for was that Bandit got them home uninjured. He was careful not to push him too hard, but the urgency he felt—that panic in behind his sternum—found it hard to ease up.
He caught a glimpse of Percy’s white shirt through the trees every now and then, and he was mad that he’d not thought to bring a blanket or an extra coat.
He’d been too focused on finding the boy alive. He hadn’t given much thought about what would happen if or when they did. They’d be lucky if Percy didn’t catch his death out here, let alone that small boy wearing only pyjamas and no shoes...
Albie tried not to think about that.
They’d found the boy. That was all that mattered.
Albie gained some ground and wasn’t so far behind Percy now, but as they got closer, he realised they weren’t heading for home. They were heading for McAllister’s.
Smart.
Whereas Albie’s first thought was to head for his house, Percy knew Christopher’s parents must be about beside themselves.
As the trees cleared into grazing land, Percy was still at a gallop, up ahead now, and before Albie came out of the tree line, some of McAllister’s men were racing home too. They fell in behind Percy, and Albie followed them. Bandit was faster on flat ground, and he’d almost caught up to them by the time they reached the house.
Mrs McAllister and some staff were on the back veranda, Mrs McAllister crying as she saw her boy.
Percy slid off Minnie, rushing the boy to his mother, and they were ushered inside. Ignoring the looks from McAllister’s men, Albie was quick to follow through the door where Percy had gone.
The house was large and worth more than Albie could ever dream of. He followed the sound of voices to the extravagant living room where Mrs McAllister knelt by the fire, holding Christopher. The boy was crying, covered in mud and scratches.
“Quickly, prepare a bath,” she ordered, and one of the maids dutifully dashed out of the room.
Albie’s gaze fell on Percy, who stood there, unsure of what to do. He was also covered in mud, wet from the sleet, but his wrist was red raw from the rope, Albie realised. The skin on his neck, face, and arms was flushed dark pink from the cold.
Albie picked up Percy’s coat and put it around his shoulders, and Percy blinked up at him, almost surprised to see him. “You’re frozen to the bone,” he said.
Mrs McAllister looked up then. “Yes, please, sit by the fire. Get these men some tea, quickly,” she said to another maid who disappeared. Then she pulled on Percy’s coat. “Please, come sit by the fire.” Then she took a better look at Percy. “Oh, you have blood... Does your head hurt?”
Percy smeared the blood with the back of his hand. “No, I’m fine. Just a scratch.”
She nodded and turned her attention back to her boy. Her face was gaunt, her eyes puffy, cheeks blotched. Albie had only met her a handful of times, never looking anything less than impeccable. She’d clearly had a harrowing day, thinking the very worst.
“Where was he? Where did you find him?” she asked. “I’m forever in your debt?—”
The front door swung open and McAllister stormed inside, stopping when he saw his child safe in his wife’s arms. He stopped again when he saw Albie and Percy but then rushed to his wife’s side. He cradled the boy’s head before he looked at Albie, then at the state of Percy, and he quickly deduced who’d found his boy.
“Where was he?”
Albie got to his feet, his manners not letting him stay seated. But just then, the maid rushed in with two cups of hot tea. Percy’s hands were still shaking, and he was reluctant to take it. “My hands are too dirty,” he said.
“Nonsense,” Mrs McAllister said kindly. “Drink up, dear. You need it.”
Albie sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through his belly. Then he nodded to Percy for him to do the same before he answered McAllister. “The first ridgeline on my land from yours. Over the ledge, eight feet down.”
Mrs McAllister put her hand to her mouth, instant tears welled in her eyes. “Oh my word.”
McAllister paled. “He made it that far?”
Two maids carried a small bathtub of water out to the fire, and it was then Albie realised Marcy was one of them. She met his gaze briefly before lowering her head and rushing back to the kitchen. She came back out a moment later with a kettle of steaming water and added it to the tub.
Mrs McAllister stripped Christopher down, and both Albie and Percy turned their attention to McAllister. He looked a man wrung tight, and Albie even felt a bit sorry for him.
“It was you who went down to get him?” McAllister said to Percy.
He gave a nod. “Yes, sir.”
