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Tara froze, being plunged back into her nightmare. Death once again stalked those around her.
Reeve grabbed her arm. “Mercy will stay with Trey. Come with me. Willow may need you.”
Tara didn’t yank her arm free until they left the room and were near the stairs. “I cannot touch anyone anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is my fault.”
“That’s nonsense,” Reeve said.
“No, the curse is real, and it will only get worse. You must believe me,” she begged.
Reeve grabbed her arm tightly. “Enough. We don’t even know what happened to Jacob and Willow. And Trey is crazy from fever. Keep your wits about you. You are needed.”
Tara wanted to believe him, but she felt she would do more harm than good. “You heard your brother, I am death.”
Reeve yanked her up against him. “Am I ill? Has anything happened to me?”
Tara shook her head. “Don’t—”
“Don’t point out the truth?” Reeve argued. “Trey does not know you—” He held up his hand when she tried to interrupt. “He speaks senselessly from fever. And Jacob is an old man. You had nothing to do with either of their misfortunes.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” Reeve insisted. “You are a good woman with a good heart. No curse can befall goodness.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Tara warned. “I once was, and it cost me dearly.”
“You were vulnerable and believed foolish mumblings.”
“No, you don’t understand—”
“I do understand,” Reeve said. “Let the fear go, or it will keep you forever cursed.”
He didn’t give Tara a chance. He took hold of her hand and rushed her down the stairs and into the great room.
Everyone was around a table, and Tara heard someone sobbing. Her heart lurched in her chest, and she feared, even though Reeve had warned her against it. She knew what was happening, someone had died, and Trey could very well follow.
Reeve pushed past those around the table, and when Willow saw him, she fell into his arms.
“He’s dead. Jacob is dead.”
Reeve held her, and Tara looked at Jacob, who lay on the table. The same table where Trey had lain, and she had fought to save his life.
“What happened?” Reeve asked.
Willow moved away from him, wiping the tears from her eyes. “The old fool wanted to hunt even though he wasn’t feeling well. I refused to let him go alone. On our return home, we heard raucous laughter, and so approached the farm cautiously.”
She stopped and walked over to Jacob, resting her hand on his shoulder. “The soldiers had returned.”
Tara saw that Reeve’s hands tightened in fists at his sides. No doubt he blamed himself for the soldiers’ return.
Willow continued. “Though I often called the old man a fool, he wasn’t one. He hurried me away—”She shook her head. “He was forever protecting me.” She wiped away the tears that fell. “He told me it was time we came here, and so we began the long walk.” She grew quiet.
Mara went to her and slipped her arm around her shoulder.
Willow looked up at her with tearful eyes. “He spoke to me as if he knew death was imminent. He told me I was to stay here at the village, where I would be safe.” She glanced down at Jacob again with sorrowful eyes. “He forced himself to live until he knew I was here and safe. He had promised his son that he would take care of me, let no harm befall me, and he did; the old fool kept his promise.”
