Beyond a Doubt

chapter Eight




Lucy sat with her arms folded across her chest and her back stiff. The awkward position almost caused them to lose their balance more than once. Bryce tried to explain but Lucy wouldn’t listen. People frown on attempted killing. The only way to ensure her safety and help her reach London alive was to leave.

With a considerable distance placed between them and Emmett’s home, Bryce stopped the horse and dismounted. Lucy didn’t move a muscle as he stalked away and entered the woods.

He found a stick around six feet in length and used a dagger to sharpen it. Hidden beside trees and amongst bushes, Bryce waited. Within minutes the sound of an animal scurrying filled the silent forest.

Bryce jabbed the point of the stick into a squirrel. The animal convulsed and died. Removing the makeshift spear, Bryce hoped to find another but the sound of a feminine voice calling his name sent all the animals into hiding.

Picking up the meal by the scruff of its neck, Bryce carried it back to his waiting companion.

“Where have you been? How dare you leave me here alone? What if — if a thief came upon me?”

Bryce shrugged.

“Oh, and that has to end.”

He cocked his brow.

“That too! I can’t stand your wordless actions a moment longer.”

“I’ve caught supper. We will settle here for the night.”

Lucy stumbled and stuttered to make more words, until she clamped her lips into a thin line.

Camp set for the night, Bryce cleaned and cooked the squirrel. After eating, they laid their bedrolls close to the fire.

Worry gnawed at Bryce. He could hide his intentions no longer; he needed to tell Lucy about his plans.

“Miss, I know I offered to help ye but Carlisle is as far as I can go.”

“Is this because of the incident with the herbs and us almost getting killed by those people? I’m sorry about that. You see, there was very little in the kitchen to work with. Besides, Doreen faked her symptoms. It serves her right if she had a bit of a stomachache. That was probably more movement than the woman has suffered in quite some time.”

“Nay, that is not the reason,” he interrupted.

“Then why?”

“Because I want to go home. I want to return to Cameron lands. To Crissy, to my sheep. London is a mite further than I can go. But I’m sure someone in Carlisle will be more than happy to take ye on to yer destination.”

“But—“

“Carlisle is as far as I go.”