CHAPTER EIGHT
Anna discovered that her promise to her brother turned out to be one more easily made than kept. She could not banish thoughts of what had happened to Estelle from her mind any more than she could stop thinking about Reed and the words they had exchanged that afternoon.
It seemed to her that she should do something, find out something, about what had happened to Estelle. She knew, as Kit had pointed out, that she could not have kept the girl from coming to harm, but still, she could not help but feel responsible for Estelle. She could not simply sit back and wash her hands of the matter. It was her duty to do what she could to help bring the girl’s murderer to justice. And besides…there was the suspicion, the horrible thought that had sprung up in her mind at the doctor’s words. She could not rest until her mind was easy on that score.
She had little idea how to go about tracking down the killer, but there was one area that she knew she could explore—the identity of the man whom Estelle had been sneaking out to meet at nights.
Therefore, that evening, when she was seated in front of her vanity, as Penny took Anna’s hair down from its pins and was brushing it out, Anna looked into the mirror, catching her maid’s eyes in the glass.
“Penny…?”
“Yes, miss?”
“Did Estelle ever talk to you about this man whom she was meeting?”
The girl’s eyes welled with tears, and she quickly looked down at her task. “I should have asked her more. I feel so terrible. It’s all my fault, isn’t it? I should have told Mrs. Michaels what she was doin’.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Anna assured her, reaching up and curling her hand comfortingly around Penny’s. “You thought you were helping her. I will tell you something—I didn’t tell on Estelle, either.” She told her maid about seeing Estelle sneaking into the house one morning, and when she was through, Penny visibly relaxed, breathing out a sigh.
“Oh, miss, I’m that glad to hear you say that. Mrs. Michaels says I’m a terrible person not to have told her. She says I’m a sinner and—”
“Never mind that. I am sure that what you did was not a sin. You were trying to be a good friend to Estelle. It isn’t your fault she was killed. It is the person who killed her who is to blame.”
“You think it was the man she was seeing?” Penny asked. “John the footman thinks it was the Beast. He says he got her because she was out alone in the woods at night, going to meet that man.”
“I don’t believe in the Beast. I have never seen it. Have you?”
“No…”
“And if it is the sort of thing that kills people like this, don’t you think it would do it more often? Or that it would kill animals the same way? But I’ve never heard of a farmer losing a cow or a sheep or even a dog to this creature.” Anna pushed from her mind the thought of the wounded dog she had taken to Nick Perkins.
“No. I haven’t, either,” Penny agreed, although she did not look entirely convinced.
“Kit thinks that there was a lovers’ quarrel, and he killed her, maybe even accidentally, but then he tried to make it look as if the Beast had done it, just to avert suspicion from himself.”
Penny nodded. “Master Kit has always been a brainy one.”
“So I thought, if we just knew more about this man she was meeting, perhaps they would be able to find him,” Anna went on persuasively.
“Yes’m, but the thing is—I don’t know much about him. She never told me his name. Fact is, she was dead quiet about him—” Penny sucked in a breath, looking shocked “—ooh, I didn’t mean that. That’s an awful expression, isn’t it, miss?”
“Yes. I guess we frequently say things without thinking about them. But, Penny, if Estelle never said his name, surely she must have said something else about him—how he looked, for instance, or where he lived.”
Penny frowned, concentrating, and her hands stilled on Anna’s hair, the brush poised above her head. “She kept him a secret, miss, and that’s the truth. I asked her about him. I was curious, like. But she wouldn’t tell me anything ’cept that he was a gentleman.”
“A gentleman?” Anna asked, surprised.
Penny nodded. “I was that surprised. I told her she was fibbing, but she swore it was true.” She hesitated. “I think it was the way he talked and dressed. She told me he looked as fine as Master Kit, and he treated her real polite, like she was a lady.”
Anna nodded. It made sense that Estelle’s judgment of a man as a “gentleman” would have had more to do with his manner of speech or his way of dressing, rather than his status in life. Estelle might have labeled anyone from a lawyer’s clerk to a dancing tutor as a “gentleman.”
Moreover, while she had been assuming that the man lived nearby, the fact was that he could even live in a neighboring village rather than right here at Lower Fenley. He could easily have ridden a few miles from Eddlesburrow or Sedgewick to meet with Estelle. Of course, she could not imagine how Estelle would have met someone from one of those villages, given the fact that she spent all but one day every other week working here at the Manor. But, then, Anna would not have thought that the girl could have kept up secretive meetings at night for weeks on end, either. Obviously Estelle had been more resourceful than anyone had realized.
Penny had nothing else to tell her, Anna felt sure. Therefore, she would have to ask someone else. The other people who seemed most likely to know anything about Estelle’s secret lover were her family. It would be expected of her to call on the family, anyway, Anna thought, to offer her condolences. She could easily ask them a few questions, as well.
The next afternoon, Anna embarked on her plan. She had just come downstairs, gloves and bonnet in hand, to have her trap brought around when there was a knock on the door and the footman opened it to reveal Lady Kyria on her doorstep.
“My lady!” Anna paused in the midst of pulling on her gloves. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“I am sorry,” Kyria said, glancing down at Anna’s hands. “You are obviously about to go somewhere.”
“Yes, I was going to drive into the village to call on Estelle’s family. But I can postpone it for a bit. Won’t you come in?”
“Oh, no, I wouldn’t wish to make you change your plans.” Kyria paused for a moment, then went on. “If you wouldn’t mind, I could go with you. My carriage is already at the door, and I would like to make my condolences to the family. I did not know her, I realize, but since we are living at Winterset, it seems as though I should.”
Anna understood doing one’s social duty. She had spent much of her life occupied with such things. “I am sure they would be honored, my lady.”
“Please, call me Kyria. I have spent the last year in America, and I have come to like the lack of ‘lady this’ and ‘lady that.’”
“All right. Kyria. And you must call me Anna.” Anna smiled at the other woman. She liked Kyria, and she suspected that if things had happened differently between her and Reed, she and Kyria would have become good friends.
They took Kyria’s open-air victoria into town, enjoying the summer day. They made a stop at the chemist first, for Kyria to pick up headache powder for Miss Farrington.
“Poor thing. I fear this killing has completely overset her,” Kyria said. “But your brother has been so kind—he quite took her mind off it for a while yesterday when he came to call. I believe they are going riding this afternoon.”
“Really? I did not know.” Anna felt another tug of worry.
As they left the chemist’s and started toward their carriage, they saw Mr. Norton standing beside the vehicle. The solicitor turned at their approach and bowed, smiling broadly. “Ah, my lady, Miss Holcomb. I thought this was your equipage, my lady. A very well-sprung vehicle, if I may say so.”
“Mr. Norton.” Kyria nodded toward the man.
Lawrence Norton was a thin, bony man, and though he was rather tall, hours spent hunched over books had given him a stooped appearance. Anna had never liked his obsequious manner, though she could not fault his competence, and she discovered as they talked that he was even more fawning with Kyria. After he complimented her carriage and horses, he went on to wax enthusiastic about the party she had given the other evening.
“Mrs. Norton and I were so honored to attend,” he gushed. “It was most generous of you. Such a beautiful affair—the musicians were excellent, the food divine.”
“Thank you, Mr. Norton,” Kyria said, continuing to move toward the carriage as they talked. “I am sorry that it had such a sad ending.”
“Oh, yes, terrible thing, terrible. It is awful that such a thing should spoil your visit here. I hope it will not leave you with a bad impression of Lower Fenley. Now that your brother is planning to remain here, I hope that you will return often.”
Anna felt the shock of the lawyer’s words all through her. Reed was planning on living here?
It was all she could do to maintain her composure as Kyria skillfully extricated them from the conversational tentacles of Mr. Norton. She sat down in the carriage, feeling a little breathless, and they pulled away from the curb, Norton waving after them as if they were embarking on a long journey.
“Ree—your brother is intending to live at Winterset?” Anna asked, struggling to keep her voice light. “I had thought he was planning to sell it.”
Kyria looked at her. “I believe he has decided not to sell the house after all. It is such a pleasant place, don’t you agree?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, it’s beautiful.” Anna’s mouth felt dry as cotton. What would she do if he stayed here? She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she did not even notice Kyria studying her thoughtfully.
Somewhat numbly, Anna directed the coachman to the house in the village where Estelle’s family lived. Fortunately Kyria did not talk much as they drove or Anna would have had trouble following the conversation, for her mind was racing, considering the prospect of Reed living at Winterset.
When they reached the Akins’ house, Anna forced herself to put Reed out of her mind for the moment and went inside to talk to the grieving parents. She and Kyria visited with the family at some length, expressing their regret and sympathy, and listening to Mrs. Akins explain what a good girl her Estelle had been.
When Anna asked if they had known the man whom Estelle had been seeing, Mrs. Akins fired up, saying, “She wasn’t like what that Mrs. Michaels is saying. She wasn’t seein’ no man—I don’t care what that woman says. Estelle wouldn’t ’a’ been sneaking out like that.”
Anna nodded and murmured something consoling. Clearly she would not be getting any information about the man from Estelle’s family. However, as they were leaving the cottage, Estelle’s next-oldest sister caught up with them. “Miss?”
Anna turned, and the girl slipped out of the door, closing it behind her. “I wanted to ask you—when you asked about that man?”
Anna nodded. “Yes?”
“It could be him what killed her, couldn’t it?”
“It might be, yes.”
The girl nodded. “She was seeing someone, no matter what me mum thinks. Stell told me she was.”
“Did she say anything about him? His name? What he looked like?”
The girl shook her head. “Not much. She just said he was goin’ to change her life, like. She said she wouldn’t be cleanin’ houses forever. But she wouldn’t say who he was, even when I teased her.”
Anna asked the girl a few more questions, but she could learn nothing more from her. The girl went back inside the house, and Anna and Kyria strolled out to the carriage.
“She was certainly secretive about this man, wasn’t she?” Kyria commented.
“Yes. She told my maid that he was a ‘gentleman,’ though what that meant in Estelle’s estimation, I’m not sure. However, she refused to tell Penny—who was, I think, her best friend—what his name was or, really, anything about him. I am not even positive that he was from Lower Fenley. He could have ridden over a few nights a week from a nearby village.”
“Still, it makes one think that he must be from around here. Else why would she be so determined to keep him a secret? I would think it must be because he was someone her family or her friends would know.”
Anna looked at Kyria. “It gives one the shivers, doesn’t it? What if he is the one who killed her? What if it is someone we know?”
As they stepped up into the carriage, Anna turned and looked down the street. A horseman was riding toward them. Her throat tightened.
“Reed!” Kyria exclaimed.
He pulled up for a moment, then urged his horse forward, coming to a stop beside their carriage. “Ladies.” He swept off his hat. His eyes went over to Anna. She could not read his expression.
“Have you come to pay a sympathy call, too?” Kyria asked. “I did not know you were riding here.”
“I did not know you were, either,” he responded.
“Yes, I happened to catch Anna as she was leaving, so I came along.”
“Stay here,” he told them. “I will be back. I want to talk to you.” Again his eyes slid toward Anna.
He dismounted, handing the reins of his horse to the coachman, who had jumped down to take them. Kyria heaved a sigh.
“Well, if that isn’t just like him,” Kyria said. “He’s always been inordinately bossy. Much worse than Theo, and he’s the oldest. I’ve half a mind to tell Henry to tie Reed’s horse to that tree and drive on.” She shrugged. “Of course, he’d just catch up with us later, so it’s hardly worth the trouble.”
Anna nodded. The way he had looked at her, she couldn’t help but think it was she to whom he wanted to talk. She would have liked very much to leave, but she could scarcely tell Kyria that she wanted to flee her brother.
“How are Con and Alex?” Anna asked, to make conversation.
“As rambunctious as ever. Of course, they are morbidly interested in this killing. They want to investigate, but Reed put his foot down about that. Told them they are not to leave the house and gardens without a groom along. So they have been having to create what deviltry they can within the confines of the house and yard. Of course, they are up to the task. They’ve tied a rope to the railing on the second-floor landing and have been climbing up and down it. It frightened a maid so badly she dropped a load of dishes, the first time Alex came swinging over the side.”
Anna chuckled. “I shall have to come and take them to Nick’s again to see the dog they found. They seemed to enjoy that last time.”
“Oh, my, yes, they revere your Mr. Perkins. They would love to go again, I’m sure. But only if you don’t mind—I wouldn’t want them to be a bother to you.”
“They are no bother,” Anna assured her. “I had an excessively good time with them both times we were out. They are lively, intelligent boys.”
Kyria smiled at her, pleased at her assessment. “I quite agree. Not everyone is so understanding, I’m afraid.” She looked past Anna at the Akins’ house. “Ah, there is Reed. I wonder what it is he’s wanting to say. He has been grim all day.”
His grimness was unabated, Anna thought, as she watched him approach the carriage. His face was set in stern lines; his gray eyes were unreadable.
“Miss Holcomb,” he said without preamble, “will you walk with me? I—I wish to speak to you.”
Dread gathered in Anna’s stomach. She had no desire to talk to him, but she could see no way out of it, not when she was sitting in his sister’s carriage. She glanced at Kyria. The other woman’s face was alight with curiosity, but she could see no sign that Kyria knew what Reed’s intent was.
“Of course,” Anna said, climbing down from the carriage. She took his hand to help her down the step, but withdrew it as soon as her feet were on the ground. She looked up at him, her chin lifted a little defiantly. He gestured toward the street in front of him, saying, “I would offer you my arm, but I have the feeling you would not take it.”
Anna swept past him, holding her skirt up a trifle to save it from the dirt of the road. When they were far enough away that their words could not be heard, she began crisply, feeling it was better to attack than to wait for whatever he intended, “Lord Moreland, if you intend to lecture me again, let me—”
“No, no, I assure you. I have no intention of lecturing. I—I did not mean to yesterday. I wanted to talk to you because I wanted to apologize for what I said to you. I was…unkind.”
Anna glanced at him, surprised.
“Please, do not look so amazed,” he said, half smiling. “You will make me think I must seem the veriest ogre.”
“No. I just—it is an awkward situation.”
“I was concerned for your safety. You are correct in saying that I have no right to be. Whatever I thought we once had, it is, of course, long over. I did not really mean to assume any rights. It is just that I—” He sighed and looked off into the distance. “I don’t know how to put this without you thinking that I have run mad. But I did not want you to think that I am arbitrarily meddling in your affairs.”
Anna looked at him, curious now. “What are you saying?”
“Not long ago, I—I dreamed about you.”
Anna felt a blush rising in her cheeks, and she looked down at the ground. She, too, had had dreams about Reed, ones that left her crying and bereft, and others that she awoke from in a hot daze of passion.
“It was not the first time—I will not pretend that,” Reed went on. “But it was the first time in a long time, and it was…different. It left me afraid.”
Anna glanced at him, startled. “Afraid? What do you mean?”
“I dreamed that you were in trouble, that you were calling out to me for help.” He looked at her ruefully. “I realize how absurd it sounds—to place so much importance on a dream. But it was a different sort of dream from any I have ever had. It was so vivid, so…intense. I could not help but feel that it meant something.”
“That I am in trouble?” Anna asked, still staring at him.
“Yes.” He turned to face her, his face set as if he were facing a firing squad.
“You dreamed this before you came to Winterset?”
He grimaced, his gaze flickering away from her. “Yes. It is why I even thought to come here. I did not know what was wrong. I could not write such gibberish to you. All I could think was to come here and see what was the matter.”
Anna’s heart warmed inside her chest. Despite the way she had hurt him, despite what he had said yesterday, when he had thought she was in danger, he had ridden to help her. Tears threatened to flood her eyes, and she glanced away to hide them.
“I am sure you are now convinced that I am mad,” Reed added, his voice rough. “No one but a fool would believe in dream portents. But I cannot help but believe it is true. I felt it so strongly. I cannot tell you why I was so sure, I can only say that I knew—without a doubt. There are things that cannot be explained away rationally. I have seen things, learned things, in the past few years that defy logic.”
“I do not think you are mad,” Anna said, looking up at him seriously.
“What?” He looked surprised, his brows rising slightly. “Then you believe that I was right?”
“I believe that you felt it. That you believe it. As to whether or not it is true—I do not know. I don’t know if I believe that dreams and…and visions are the truth. I do not know of any trouble that I am in. But the other day…” She hesitated. She had never told anyone about the “visions” that she had experienced all her life. Even after what Reed had told her, she felt a flutter of fear in her chest at the thought of exposing her oddity to him.
Finally she said, “The day when I met your brothers, when I was walking through the woods, I was suddenly struck by a—a feeling I can hardly describe. A feeling of pain and fear so sharp it made me nearly sick. And I was cold, so cold…. In my mind I saw the place where I was, but at night, and I felt this pain.”
“My God, Anna.” Instinctively Reed reached out and took her hand. “What was it?”
She shook her head, her fingers curling around his. “I do not know. There was nothing there, and in a moment it passed. I did not know what it meant. But that evening, when I heard that Estelle was missing, I thought of that moment in the woods, of what I had felt, and somehow I—I connected it with her.” Anna paused, collecting her thoughts, and looked down, realizing suddenly that Reed was holding her hand.
Hastily she let go of his hand, a blush starting on her cheeks. Reed glanced at her but said nothing about her gesture.
“I have no reason for thinking so,” she went on a little stiffly. “Her body was found somewhere far from there. The time when I felt it was not when she was found, and I doubt that it was when she was killed, either. I would think that happened the night before, when she went missing. I suppose, if the feeling actually meant anything, it was perhaps connected to that dog the twins found and what happened to him. But it was because of my ‘feeling’ in the woods that I had the servants look for her, that I could not quite believe she had simply left with a man.”
“And you were right.”
“I suppose. I did not know that that was what my…vision meant. I still do not. But I—I could not ignore it, either. As you said, I felt it meant something.”
Reed frowned. “I have no idea what either of our ‘omens’ means, but it worries me.”
Anna attempted a little laugh. “Yes, it rather concerns me, as well. I can tell you I would prefer not to feel that sensation again.”
“I, too, would rather you did not suffer it,” Reed agreed. He caught himself, then said, “I would not want anyone to feel it. But more than that, I am concerned about what will happen if this thing you felt, what I dreamed, are actually presaging something worse to come—something that will involve you.”
“Stop. You will frighten me.”
“I would like to,” Reed told her. “I want you to take a care for yourself.”
“I will. You need not worry about me.”
Reed looked as if he would like to say something else, but he merely sighed and glanced back to where his sister sat waiting for them in her carriage. “And, please, I beg you, do not let Kyria lead you into doing anything rash.”
Anna chuckled. “What an unkind thing to say about your own flesh and blood.”
“I say it because I know her,” he retorted, but he smiled. He turned back toward the vehicle, offering Anna his arm. She hesitated for a moment, then slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. It felt very comfortable, very natural, to walk with him this way. Indeed, she thought, it felt almost too good. She reminded herself that she must keep her guard up with Reed.
As they walked back to the carriage, Reed said, “I know that we have exchanged some harsh words. And the past makes it difficult. But I would like, if I could, to be a friend to you. I do not mean to try to rekindle what we—what I thought we once had. But I have been thinking about not selling the house and instead living here at least part of the year. I would like for the situation not to be…awkward.”
“I—I see.” So he was going to stay! Anna felt a little breathless at the thought.
“Can we put the past aside and agree to be—well, not friends, perhaps, but at least good acquaintances? People who are able to meet on occasion and to speak without drawing swords?”
“I do not wish to fight with you,” Anna replied carefully. She did not think it was possible for her to forget her past with Reed. Nor was she sure that she could be around him with any degree of equanimity. But she could scarcely explain to him that his presence made everything inside her start to tingle. “I would hope that we can be civil.”
“Good. I am glad to hear you say that.” They had by this time reached the carriage, and Reed extended his hand to help Anna up into it. He smiled up at his sister and Anna. “Now, if you ladies would allow me, I should be happy to escort you home.”
Reed was, Anna admitted, the perfect picture of the casual acquaintance as he rode beside them to her house. He talked to her and Kyria equally, his manner friendly but somewhat distant when he spoke to her. And she found it frankly irritating. She could not help but wonder how he found it so easy to act as if they had only recently met, as if nothing had ever passed between them, when she found herself tongue-tied and awkward. It was enough to make her wonder if only she had felt the surge of passion when they kissed the other night. Perhaps it was nothing but her own lack of experience that had made the moment seem so important, while Reed—more experienced—had merely found it a bit of passing pleasure.
The idea left her feeling perversely disgruntled when she arrived home. It was for that reason, perhaps, that her voice was sharper than she intended when she ran into her brother on the way up the stairs and he told her that he had just come back from riding.
“You went riding with Miss Farrington?” she asked.
Kit glanced at her, his eyebrow lifting. “Yes. Why?”
Anna sighed. “Kit…you paid a call on her yesterday, then there was the party, and now you go riding?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes. What of it? Are you keeping an account of my coming and goings?”
“No, of course not. But it scarcely seems wise—”
“Wise? No, perhaps it is not wise. I am not sure that I can be eternally wise. Mayhap you can always put your head above your heart, but I cannot!”
“Kit! Are you saying—are your feelings engaged?” Anna’s hand went unconsciously to her stomach, where a feeling of dread was coiling. “Are you coming to care her?”
He glanced around. “This is scarcely the time or place to discuss this.”
He started down the stairs, and Anna turned and followed him. In the hall below, she took his arm and steered him into the drawing room, closing the door behind them.
“All right,” she said, facing him. “Let us discuss it now. Are you…falling in love with Miss Farrington?”
“No. Perhaps. I do not know,” Kit said, flinging up his arms. “I like her. I like being around her. Is it so much to ask to spend some time with an attractive woman?”
“No, of course it is not too much.” Anna’s heart went out to her brother, and she took a step toward him, her face filled with sympathy. “It is exactly what you should have.”
“Yet it is exactly what I cannot have,” Kit snapped, and whirled away. “Don’t you think I know that it is impossible?”
“Oh, Kit…” Anna felt tears start in her eyes. “I am sorry. I should not have questioned you. I don’t mean to be overbearing. I am not your watchdog. It is just—I hate to see you get your heart broken,” she finished, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.
“Like yours was?” Kit asked, turning back to her.
Anna froze. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come now, Anna. I am not a fool. It is pointless to try to pretend with me. I have known you for twenty-four years, you know. I may not have been here when it happened, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t figured it out. I saw the two of you dancing together the other night, and I also saw how you avoided him the rest of the evening.”
Anna could think of nothing to say. She sat down on a chair, suddenly weary.
“Don’t you ever just want to forget it all?” Kit asked, his voice filled with emotion. “Don’t you want to say, ‘The devil with my duty’ and just grab for your own happiness? God knows, I do.”
“We cannot,” Anna said. “You know we cannot.”
“No, I don’t know!” Kit flashed back. “I don’t want to live this way forever. Do you? Are you satisfied with half a life?”
“Of course not!” Anna retorted. “Of course I want more. That doesn’t mean that I can have it.”
“But you can!”
“Yes, if I ignore what is right! If I think only of myself!” Anna jumped to her feet, facing her brother. “I know that is not your way any more than it is mine.”
“But what is life worth if one can never know love and happiness?” Kit shot back. “What is the point?”
“There are also honor and duty!” Anna exclaimed. “There is the satisfaction of doing what one knows is right.”
“And is that really enough?”
“Sometimes it has to be,” Anna told him, her voice tinged with sorrow.
“I don’t know if it is for me,” Kit said, then turned on his heel and stalked out the door.
* * *
The young man walked across the footbridge, his hands in his pockets. He was whistling. He was eighteen years old, and it had been a good evening. He had spent it in the tavern, laughing and talking with his cronies, and the girl who brought him his drinks had smiled at him with what he definitely thought was an invitation in her eyes. Maybe next time he would stay until closing, and he would talk to her afterward, offer to walk her home….
But tonight he had to get home. It was summer, and tomorrow would be a full day in the fields. Pops would have his hide if he stayed out to the wee hours and came home with a snootful. He didn’t care about the drinking, of course; it was his shirking at work the next day because his head ached and his eyes felt as swollen and red as tomatoes.
He staggered a little as he stepped off the footbridge, and he had to grab for the rail. He snickered at his tipsy state, thinking that perhaps he hadn’t left early enough.
Picking up his tune again, he walked into the stand of trees beyond the footbridge. As he entered the trees, he heard a sound and turned, looking behind him. He could see nothing in the darkness, made deeper by the trees now spreading above him. The moon was no longer full, as it had been the other night, when Estelle Akins had met her death.
A little shiver ran through him as he thought about her. He didn’t know her, but it seemed a shame that anyone had to die like that. He’d heard it had been the Beast, back again after all these years, thirsty for blood.
Of course, he told himself, he wasn’t in any danger, not a healthy, strapping farm lad. He could take care of himself. Still…he would be glad when he got through the trees and reached the edge of his father’s farm on the other side. It wouldn’t be long. It wasn’t as if these were the deep woods.
There was a snap behind, and he started to whirl around just as something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. His fall knocked the breath out of him, and it was a struggle even to draw air. Something hard rapped against his skull, and pain exploded in his head.