stand of trees, he let her go. They were both still for a moment before she took a step, then another. She gave him a wide smile and he responded with a slight nod.
She was going to live! It hit her square in the face. She’d survived the plague! She had her life back! She could walk again! She could go home and see her father!
She leaned against a tree and while her rescuer turned the other way, she did what she came to do.
She was still smiling when she stepped out of the trees. She wanted a moment to think about him and what was to become of him, but he sensed her presence and tilted his head, inclining his ear to her just a bit. She had to say something. She plunged her fingers through her dark hair. One of her fingers got caught in a knot. “Sir?”
His shoulders sagged in his long coat before he turned to her.
She tugged at the knot. “How far away are we from Dumfries?”
“A few days. I have to make a stop in Thornhill to the west first.” He watched her while she passed him.
“To kill a man?”
“Aye, lass,” he answered then followed her. “D’ye need help with that tangle? Ye seem to be makin’ it worse.”
She laughed and stopped walking to turn to him. “My hair is too thick and likes to curl at the bottom and around the sides. And it needs a good cleaning.”
He made a sound above her like someone just kicked him in the guts. Then, in the time it took her to blink, he pulled the knife he’d used to cut the apple and sliced off the knot. Her finger was free from her head but still tangled in the knot.
He saw it and took her finger to cut the knot away around it.
“Do not get too close to my finger!”
“I know how to handle a blade, lass.”
“Well, I do not know that, do I? Then again, you must be proficient if you are a hired killer.”
He cut her free. She thanked him with a joyful smile and continued walking on her own to the small camp a few feet away. “Who is the man you are going to kill?”
“His name is Walters,” he told her, reaching his horse. “He is the Governor of Thornhill. Three months ago, he killed two barons and took the wife of one of them. Today, he will pay fer that crime and a woman will be released.”
She slanted her gaze at him. It was no longer bloodshot. “Do you always go around saving women?”
He almost walked into a tree and righted himself with one of his scowls. “I’m not savin’ her. I’m doin’ this fer the coin.” He stuck his hand in a saddlebag and dug around. Finally, he pulled his hand out and handed her a peach.
Oh, her appetite had returned! She took the fruit from him and sank her teeth in. Heaven! She looked to see what he had for himself. He managed to find a few more strips of dried meat and some hard bread.
“Please have a bite, sir,” she said as he helped her gain the saddle, handed her his plaid to keep herself warm, and then sprang up behind her.
“Should we burn it?”
“The peach?” she asked.
“The plaid,” he clarified. “’Twas on ye when ye were sick.”
“’Twas on you, as well,” she reminded him. “The plague will not dare come near you. Is that not correct?”
“Aye, ’tis,” he muttered.
She took another bite of the peach and then smiled with pure delight.
He covered her hand with his and pulled the peach to his mouth while she still held it. He bit into it with a big, slow bite and straight, white teeth, dripping peach juice on her finger.
She smiled, a little out of breath. Was she feverish again? She watched his tongue dart out of his mouth. She shook her head and patted her chest.
“Feelin’ unwell?”
She shook her head and then looked at the peach in her other hand. “You did not save me for coin.”
“That is true. I didna,” he agreed, picking up just where they left off.
“Why did you save me then?” She finished the peach and threw away the pit.
“I’m not accustomed to so many questions, lass.”
“Is that why you do not answer them?” she asked, wrapping the plaid around her.
“’Tis as if ye canna stop,” he muttered, staring at her.
“Stop what?”
For a moment, he looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to scowl