Page 65 of The Swindler’s Daughter

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The shouts of the maid continued behind us, but we made it out of sight without anyone seeming to notice that a wagon had just departed the house of the magistrate and that it bumped along into the forest with the distinct sound of coins jostling together.

It was cramped and uncomfortable, and I could hear the strained breathing of everyone around me. But none of us dared move. I was curled up on my side, Rowan at my back. He managed to wedge his arm beneath my head. Even amid danger and chaos, he was thoughtful.

Each bump felt as if it made my entire skeleton jostle, but I remained quiet until I heard Tyson’s tentative voice. “I think…I think we made it.”

Rowan pushed himself up behind me and I turned to look at him. We both nodded.

The five of us sat up cautiously, arranging ourselves into more comfortable seated positions, each of us keeping our eyes trained on the land around us. We fully expected Reeve or his constables to come chasing after us at any moment. But despite our vigilance, we never saw them. They never came. We traveled deeper and deeper into Murrwood Forest, taking trails that weren’t trails at all, winding our way through the trees until even we weren’t sure where we were. It was only then that we stopped.

And we waited, listening, still not believing we’d gotten away.

Birds chirped. The breeze rustled through the leaves. Our breathing sounded in the air, shallow and tense.

It was Oliver who spoke first. “Did we really just get away with that?”

“I…” John looked around one more time. “I think we did.”

A couple more seconds of silence passed before we all turned our eyes to the huge pile that was tied down with canvas. We moved it aside and stared at the glittering mound of coins, jewelry, and trinkets.

Laws, there was so much of it. How had he collected this amount in such a short time? What kind of suffering did this pile represent?

“You all won’t mind if I just sleep on top of this pile of treasure, will you?” Tyson asked as he climbed over the back of the wagon seat and onto the pile, where he lay on his stomach and made a show of snuggling down.

Rowan chuckled. “Good luck sleeping. That looks like a mighty unforgiving bedroll if you ask me.”

“I’ve never seen so much wealth,” Tyson said, digging his hands into a bag filled with coins.

“Enjoy it for tonight, because it’s all being returned,” John pointed out.

“Returned to who?” Oliver asked. “We don’t know where it all came from. And how are we going to distribute it? Giving out piles of money is bound to attract attention.”

Silence stretched for a moment as we realized that our plan had not extended this far. We’d been so focused on retrieving the stolen goods that we’d never considered exactly how we would deal with actually having it.

“What about Father Tucker?” I suggested.

“What about him?” John asked.

“He said he hears stories from the villagers. He’d know where to start. He might even be willing to return some of it himself.”

Rowan looked thoughtful, then slowly nodded his head. “It’s worth pursuing. But any other decisions on how to deal with it should probably wait for tomorrow. If we’re stuck here for tonight, we’ll need food. I’ll go see what I can find,” Rowan said, hooking his bow over his shoulder. “The lot of you need to get that wagon hidden.” Rowan gave me a wink before heading into the trees.

John stood and took charge. “Come on. Let’s get this covered. If anyone comes along, we all have to split up and leave the wagon behind. And I’m not about to let this collection be hauled back to Reeve’s house because we failed to keep it safe.”

We all worked together, picking out a spot beneath a tree with low-hanging branches, then gathering other branches, vines, and foliage until it was completely covered.

Once the wagon was well and truly hidden, we set up camp a fair distance from it. We had just started a fire when Rowan returned, two small animals hanging from his belt.

Oliver cheered when he saw them and happily took charge of their preparation. As Rowan looked around at his band of thieves, his shoulder dropped, like he was relaxing for the first time in a long time. Then he turned his back to the group and wandered away.

I looked around at Gretchen and the boys, but they all seemed to be happily engaged in the adventure of the moment. I doubted they’d even noticed Rowan’s departure, much less the way his steps were heavy with fatigue.

I went after him, following at a distance until he sat himself beside a tree on the crest of a hill. I climbed up the rise, appreciating the way the sun had gone down, leaving hues of purple and pink behind. I sat on the ground beside him, wondering if I should offer to leave him be when he didn’t look over at me.

But then he reached out and took my hand in his, keeping his eyes ahead while giving my palm a gentle squeeze.

I turned my own eyes to the sky and took a steadying breath. Today had been chaos and danger and triumph. It was a lot to take in.