Page 57 of The Widow Wore Plaid

“Interrupted your proposal to her. Surprised the hell out of me. Aunt Pru had told me you’d been engaged to marry her, but I thought the old bird batty. Everyone else said the woman was just warming your bed for you. But I knew from that night I had to be quick. If you married her and she was breeding, I’d no longer be the heir, would I? So I set out to make an accident happen.”

“But you couldn’t even make that happen, could you, Rory?” Perhaps if he goaded his cousin a bit, he’d get so furious he’d let his guard down. Or simply shoot him. At this juncture, Gareth had to roll the dice. “You’ve always been a rotten shot, so it’s no wonder your attempt at the shooting butts came to nothing save a scratch on my cheek.”

Rory glared at him and stepped closer. “You’d have been roasted like a proper goose if those two meddling lords hadn’t been in the wrong place at the right time.”

“Oh, I grant you, that would have gone badly for me had Brack and St. Just not been on the scene.” Gareth shook his head and made a tsk tsk sound. “Your luck just wasn’t in that night.”

“And yours has just run out, cousin.” Pointing the pistol straight at Gareth’s chest, Rory stared directly into Gareth’s eyes. “Once I shoot you, I’ll find your lady and do the same for her. There’s a little spot I’ve picked out, way out in these woods, where the dirt is soft and easy to dig. No reason why you two can’t be together in the end.” He grinned and closed one eye, taking aim. “Like I said, some people just disappear.”

“Gareth!” At Jane’s cry, a bucket sailed across the yard, catching Rory on the hip as he turned toward the new threat. His arm flew up as he fell backward, his shot landing in the roof of the porch.

Instinctively, Gareth fired at his cousin, but the man’s awkward movement caused the ball to hit not the chest that Gareth had aimed at, but his arm instead.

Rory staggered and went down, then cursing scrambled to his feet and bolted into the woods.

“Jane!” Gareth leaped from the porch and ran to her. He grabbed her and crushed her to his chest. “Oh, Jane, thank God you are all right. I was sure he’d kill me and then come for you.”

“I would never let that happen, Gareth. You can always count on me to . . . to . . .” Her words dissolved into a shower of tears. “Oh, Gareth. I was sure he was going to shoot you.”

“It was a near thing, sweetheart. Had you not thought quickly and thrown that bucket, I fear you’d have been a widow again.”

“Don’t say such things, Gareth.” Her sobs grew louder.

“Shh. It’s all right.” He gazed over her head at the spot where his cousin had disappeared. “But we’ve got to leave here now. I wounded Rory in the arm, but I fear it was only a glancing blow. He’ll be back as soon as he’s tied it up and reloaded his gun. By then, we’d best be on our way.”

She sniffed and stepped back. “Are you able to travel?”

“I’d better be, no matter what.” He took in her frightened face and lifted her chin. “Your willow bark tea may have saved me. My shoulder aches, but I can move it without too much pain. And I don’t think I have a fever, so yes, I can, and we must go quickly.” He grabbed her hand and they ran back into the lodge.

He grabbed the carry bag and dumped out all the plates and utensils. The food was gone, save several slices of bread and cheese, which he stuffed in then added the ammunition pouch with the remaining powder, shot, and wadding. He looked around, but there was nothing else to take that would help them while not adding to their burden.

Jane brought him the empty wine bottle. “We can fill this with water from the well if you think it’s safe to go back out. Or we can fill it at Rogie Falls.”

“We’re not going by way of the falls.” He took the bottle and stuffed it in the carry bag. They might run across a stream on the way down the mountain. “We need to go straight across country toward the castle. That way it’s only about two or three miles, not the five or so along the trail. With luck, we’ll get home before dark.”

“You are quite the optimist, Kinellan.” Jane stood before him, hands on hips, hair completely disheveled and straggling down over her shoulders. But there was still a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. “I would have thought this little excursion would have beat that out of you by now.”

He laughed and pulled the laces of the carry bag tight. “As long as you are with me, my love, I’ll always have hope. Ready?”

She nodded and took his hand. “For anything with you by my side.”

He opened the front door and peered out. Nothing stirring in the once more tranquil morning air. This trek would be grueling for them both, he wouldn’t try to persuade himself otherwise. But with a little more luck, they just might make it home alive.

Swiftly, they ran down the steps and into the woods, no path this time, just instinct and Gareth’s excellent sense of direction. The ground was strewn with sticks and rocks that could turn an ankle as quick as a wink, yet he must push them to the best speed possible. If Rory caught them in the open there would be no stopping him from killing them. So it would be a race for their lives with no guarantee that the best man would win.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached, Matthew pushed Lucifer up the difficult trail as fast as he could go. He’d left MacKenna and the rest of the search party behind, urged to the point of recklessness by the shots they’d heard while at Rogie Falls. The half mile of steep trail to the lodge had slowed him somewhat, but Lucifer, true to his name, had the devil in him and gave Matthew every ounce of strength and speed he could muster.

They burst into the clearing to be met by an eerie silence. Suddenly wary, Matthew pulled the horse to a walk, drew his pistol, and continued around the perimeter of the lodge. Nothing stirred save a light breeze. Even the birds were quiet, as though shocked into silence by something. The rear of the lodge proved more interesting than the front. A well bucket lay on its side several yards from the well itself, where a full bucket of water rested on the rim. The dirt had been scrabbled not far from the overturned bucket and several splotches of blood had dried on the grass. Those shots had not been fired by a hunting party.

“Kinellan!” He hated to call out, but if there was a chance his friend might hear him, he’d risk it. Best check the house, although if Kinellan was in there and able, he’d have answered that first call. Matthew jumped to the ground, tied the reins to one of the wooden supports, and slowly mounted the stairs. The broken window told its own tale. The locked door did as well. “Kinellan? Are you in there?”

Again, only silence met his call. With dread in his heart, he carefully stuck his head through the shattered pane. Relief flooded him to find no bodies, but signs of life instead. Perhaps the worst had not occurred. Gingerly withdrawing himself from the window, Matthew untethered the horse and walked around to the front of the lodge, just as the rest of the search party rode into the clearing.

“What did you find?” Granger rode at the front of the party, just behind MacKenna.

“Some altercation took place in the backyard, and signs that Kinellan and Jane were here, most likely spent the night here, but are now gone. As is Seton, I assume. I was going to look around in the lodge, but I don’t think it’s necessary. We do, however, need to figure out which way they went.”