Page 187 of Dark Night of the Soul

“Give him a list.”

Another couple of steps. Slow. The breeze shifted, tossing a few strands of hair in my face. He noticed. Reached out, tucked them behind my ear. His knuckles brushed my cheek on the way back. My skin tingled in his wake. He needed to stop doing things like that.

And me, being me, decided I could not acknowledge it.

“I’m so glad I changed my hair color so we can keep hiding out,” I said. “Nothing screams low profile like me making deliberate aesthetic choices.”

He glanced at me like he was deciding whether the sarcasm was worth the energy.

Then his breath hitched. He reached for my hand, his fingers tightening around mine. He kept moving, though. I eyed the distance from the other side of the fountain to the open doors of the bedroom. Not far. But far enough. If he collapsed, I could get him there. One way or another.

I didn’t ask if he was okay because that would have been an affront to his manhood. I’d learned that lesson already. So, I said nothing and listened to him breathe through the pain.

We completed the one lap. He paused in front of the fountain where we’d sat and he accosted me.

“That’s all for today,” I said gently.

He nodded. As we walked back through the French doors, he never let go of my hand.

Chapter 49 | Kincade

Three weeks later, I was moving without help and pretending that meant I was fine. Close enough, anyway.

Anna had talked someone into making deliveries to the villa. I hadn’t asked who. Didn’t need to. She had her ways. Winter clothes arrived like she had an internal barometer that said the season was about to turn and we needed to be ready.

She wasn’t wrong. She rarely was.

Two days after she unpacked the boxes, nighttime temperatures dropped, and the days turned drizzly. The jackets she insisted on were all waterproof. Of course they were. She’d thought three steps ahead, as always.

And managed to outfit all of us without breaking a sweat.

Summer was gone. Autumn had arrived. Time kept moving whether we were ready or not.

And Walker Manor had been out of reach for three and a half months now. Too long. Far too long.

When Silas arrived unannounced one morning, rain darkening his shoulders and a hard case in his hand, I knew we were about to get information none of us wanted. The hard case alone told me that. Silas didn’t make social calls.

He stepped across the threshold. Nodded once at Ludwig. Once at Ulrich. Professional courtesy. Acknowledging allies. And then his gaze pinned me.

The moment Anna saw him, she crossed the room and wrapped him in a hug that startled him. Not much startled Silas. She’d managed it. His one good eye flicked from her to me. I shrugged. She’d earned the right to hug whoever she wanted.

“Ah, lass,” he said, rough amusement threading through the fatigue. “You’re still breathing.”

From Silas, that counted as reassurance. High praise.

“Thanks to you,” she said, pulling back. “It’s good to see you. I’ll get you some of Ludwig’s coffee.”

“Don’t you dare, woman,” Ludwig called, following her into the kitchen.

“You can share,” Anna shot back. “It’s not like the beans are made of gold.” Her voice faded as she disappeared deeper into the villa.

“This isn’t a friendly visit to catch up,” I said.

“No. I need her to hear this, too.”

I didn’t like the way that sounded. But I’d hear it, anyway. I motioned to the sitting room.

The room had two low sofas, two chairs, a coffee table in the center, and long lines built for quiet conversations. Silas walked in and chose a seat with his back to the wall, his eyes on the door like it was muscle memory. Old habits. We all had them.