*

When Connor woke up, it was late in the day and he hurried to the Keep to see if they had heard from Rachel. They had not.

Kevin and Justin were again trying to figure out what the Fergusons were up to. "Do you think they will try to burn us out?" Justin asked.

"I doubt it. They would have to come out of the trees to shoot high enough to get their arrows over the moat and the wall. Our lads could quickly cut them down."

Connor couldn't concentrate on that now. All he could think about was where to look for Rachel next. Maybe she had gone farther south or farther north to avoid the Ferguson warriors. He left the Keep, got a ladder and leaned it against the wall near the hidden door. Then he climbed up to see if she might be trying to notify them somehow. A length of her plaid tied to a tree would let them know she was safe. He saw nothing.

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*

In the far distance, Rachel could see a line of trees and felt relieved. They hadn't been going in a circle after all. She urged Threcher to go faster by tightening her knees and wondered if the horse actually knew the way home. "Two nights, maybe three," she whispered. "They must be beside themselves with worry."

She couldn't seem to help herself. She kept thinking about Connor and wondered if he was scouring the forest looking for her. She bet he was. He knew how to get out now and she didn't think even Kevin could stop him.

She remembered the first time she actually noticed Connor. He was in the meadow training with two other men, who repeatedly came at him at the same time. They used no weapons and they were practicing how to throw each other to the ground. Connor was a strong man, with a big chest and muscular arms who won far more often than he lost.

When they finished, Connor leaned down and plucked a wild flower out of the ground. He walked straight for her, set the flower on top of her head and kept right on walking. She turned to watch him leave, but he never looked back and seemed to be laughing. Perturbed, she brushed the flower off and went the other direction.

She wished she had that flower now.

By late afternoon, she spotted another stream and said, "Stop." Just as he had several times before, the horse obeyed. She slid down, walked to the stream, cupped her hands and drank. She was hungry, tired and needed to walk the stiffness out. Rachel loved riding, but didn't often go and certainly had never ridden all day. When the horse finished drinking and came to her, she rubbed his nose, patted the side of his neck, grabbed his mane and swung back on.




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