“Please…I can get her to stop crying if you give her to me.”
Montgomery scoffs. “Begging is beneath you, Mara. Have we been apart for so long that you forget this? You must know how much it will please me to teach that mouth of yours to be properly bridled. And she’ll learn, too, in time. Might as well begin now.”
His voice scrapes over my nerves, wrenching a shudder from me.
I hatethat voice.
I hate him.
And there is no way in hell Montgomery Blackwood is going to “bridle” my mouth or teachanythingto my daughter. It’s that very hatred that breaks through the fear and clears my head. Dove knew Jedidiah was coming after her. There was absolutely no doubt of that. And now every part of me believes the same—Warren is coming after us as soon as he finds us missing, and he won’t stop until he does.
But unlike before, I won’t allow myself to wallow in self-despair until then. Not now that Montgomery directed thehorse away from the road leading to Hope’s Stand and instead towards the woods. Our safety depends on me doing something before we’re swallowed up by the trees.
Think, Mara. Think.
His gun rests snugly in the front band of his trousers, but Warren never taught me how to shoot. And even if I managed to grab it and somehow get it to work right, I can’t shoot him while he holds Emmaline. Not with her so close. Knocking him off the horse is out of the question, too. That’s probably why he refuses to let me have her, the bastard.
Think.
To make an already miserable situation worse, the skies open up in a torrent of rain. I snarl towards the heavens as the cold wetness drenches me. If there is a God, he must not care one bit for me or even a helpless baby. I at least have an apron, but Emmaline has noth—wait.
The apron…
My fingers discover the bits of ribbons and lace that Eleanor had me stuff into its pockets. I swallow hard as rain drips from my lashes. Instead of trimmings for a blanket that I didn’t even get to finish, it’s now our last hope.
Fighting isn’t always done with fists or guns.
Sometimes it’s simply waiting for the right moment to strike.
Find us, Warren,my heart pleads as I kiss a silky ribbon and drop it behind me. Then another. And another. He told me not too long ago that our souls were connected and always would be. And in this moment of periled despair, I pray with all of my being to whatever god may be listening that he spoke true. Especially before night falls.
When we finally stop at a tiny cabin deep in the foliage, my pocket is empty but my heart is full of unyielding hope. I’m not giving up. “Where are we?”
Montgomery ignores me and dismounts, Emmaline still tucked haphazardly beneath one arm. By now, she’s cried herself to sleep, even with rain falling onto her poor little face.Please don’t get sick.
I glare at the gloved hand he offers to me. “I can get down myself.”
“Suit yourself.” He shrugs, eyes boldly skimming my wet form as I shimmy down. If not for the apron, he’d be able to see my breasts through the soaked fabric of my dress. I cut my eyes to where we came from, hoping against hope that Warren will somehow be there, but there’s nothing.
Montgomery nods towards the door, continuing the gentleman’s charade. “After you. You could try to run, but then I’d have to throw our precious little daughter down to chase after you. And I’m thinking neither one of you would like that very much.”
“I wasn’t going to run,” I mutter with barely concealed loathing at the way he callously claims and threatens her in the same breath as I turn to the cabin. It’s a simple wooden door, but it’s what awaits inside that has my feet turning to lead. Not the unknown, but the known. But my baby needs shelter from the rain, and right now, the cabin is the only option. So I square my shoulders and go inside, Montgomery close at my heels like a hound on the hunt.
Musty, empty, and depressing.
That’s my first impression of this simple one-room cabin. There’s a fireplace in the middle of the far wall, and a pile of blankets in its corner. On the other is a cot and a table with two worn chairs. And…and that dreadful cane of his that serves as both a sympathy prop and an instrument of torture lies atop it. I put both the cot and cane out of my mind as he bars the door.
Trapped, but only for now.
“Let me have her.” My lungs might be shaky, but my words aren’t.
“Now, now…let’s not be hasty.” He shifts Emmaline out of reach, and impending doom roils in my stomach as his dark, calculated gaze cuts between me and her. “It’ll cost you,” he says with a smirk, working his gloves off with his teeth.
A curtain of black threatens my vision as my body remembers the after-effects of his punishments, but I blink it away. I have no intention in hell of letting him touch me, but if I have to go along with it now for Emmaline’s sake, that’s what I’ll do.
“All right.” It pains me to keep the words soft and agreeable, but I need him to think I’m the same Mara he knew in the past. Weak, submissive, pliant Mara who would do anything to survive another day. “What will it cost me?”
“Much more than I’m sure you’ll be wanting to pay, but for now…”
