He found, to his surprise, that the gate he’d used earlier today was unlocked and unchained. He’d worry about why later, but for now, Alden opened it and hastened inside.
Even the ghosts would stay in on such a foul night, Alden grumbled to himself as he sloshed through puddles along the path toward the largest tombs. He reasoned that the dog, not being a fool, would try to find shelter from the rain.
Around the bend of the row of tombs, he saw a light, a ghostly light…
Don’t be an idiot,he chided himself.It must be the caretaker.
He sped around the corner and nearly collided with a dark figure, a bright light emanating from its hand.
Alden drew back, startled rage rushing to the surface. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he all but shouted.
Clara yanked the scarf from her mouth and nose and glared back with equal fury. “What areyou? I know you didn’t find the dog, and thinking of him out here on such a night—”
“Why do you think I am here?” Alden snapped. “I’ll never sleep until he’s found.”
“Good.” Clara sounded happy for his discomfort. “Let us search, then.”
“How did you know I hadn’t found him?” he demanded.
She sent a disparaging look over her shoulder as she turned away. “You would have sent word. Even you have that many manners.” She swung her lantern. “Harvey!” she called. “Where are you, lad?”
“Harvey?” Alden sped his steps to keep up with her. “Why is that his name?”
“He looks like he should be called Harvey,” Clara answered, as though this was perfectly reasonable. “Here, lad! Harveeeey!”
They wound through the paths from tombs to the flatter ground where markers and tombstones glistened with rain.
“This is impossible,” Alden snarled after a time. His boots were soaked, water seeping into the trousers he’d tucked into them.
“Nothing is impossible.” Clara shined her lantern around as though the tiny light would cut through the rain.
“I used to believe that.” Alden felt his moroseness returning. Being wet and cold in the middle of a burial ground did that to a man.
“Perhaps you ought to believe it again.” She continued across the green and around trees, never minding the rain pelting her. “Or take more walks. You’ll feel better for them.”
“I take too blasted many walks, including this one.” He pushed aside a low-hanging branch that tried to slap him.
“It was not I who bade you leave your warm bed to search for an unfortunate dog.”
She had a point. Alden could have remained tucked up and rung for Milford to build up the fire.
Then Clara would be out here, in the night, alone, searching for the confounded beast. Alden could never let her do that. He strode after her.
“Stop!” Clara swung around. Alden nearly ran into her again, and slipped on the mud as he halted. “Do you hear?”
“No.” Nothing came to him but the rush of the wind and the rain pattering around them.
“Harvey?” She peered into the gloom. “Is that you, lad?”
As though a dog would answer,Alden thought impatiently.
Then he did hear it, a short, high-pitched bark, one of a large dog in sudden gladness.
“Ah!” Clara spun again, racing off along the path, heading for deeper darkness and who knew what danger.
Chapter Three
Clara dashed ontoward where she knew she’d heard Harvey barking. The night was inky and oppressive, all the more reason to find Harvey and get him inside.
