Josephine’s cheeks flushed as the magic coursed through her, warming her chilled skin. It took only seconds, and when the green light faded, the book in her lap had been replaced once more with the small but ornate emerald amulet. Its oval face glowed slightly as the magic settled, before finally growing dark.
Her fingers trembling, she refastened the amulet around her neck. It was risky to use magic—stupid, even—but as the amulet came to rest at the base of her throat, right above her heart, the weight of her burden lessened. It was humming and pulsating as if it were alive, as if it had a heartbeat, and in that moment, the loneliness eased.
Yet there was one pain the amulet couldn’t ameliorate.
Henry. Josephine’s heart cracked open at the thought of him, and her mind recalled his face—an image that already seemed to be fading. She closed her eyes, savoring every detail: his unruly blond hair that was too short to be tied back in a tail; his calloused but gentle hands against her skin; the way he always smelled of pine and leather.
Outside, the wind had picked up. Its shrill whistle through the trees sent chills down Josephine’s back. Wrapping her hands around her ears, she curled up in a tight ball and began to hum a soft lullaby, letting the image of Henry’s face soothe her aching heart.
A bright flash of lightning illuminated the room, accompanied by a loud bang as the cabin door swung suddenly open. Josephine leapt to her feet, her heart pounding. A figure moved across the length of the floor. Her stomach pitched violently as she realized her worst fear.
They had found her.
Inching her way along the wall, she used the darkness as a cover, praying the old creaky floorboards wouldn’t give her away. She’d have to make a run for it.
Mustering all her courage, Josephine threw herself at the open door. Rain pelted her skin as she darted into the night and bolted for the tree line.
She had made it only a few feet when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her like a steel cage, lifting her off her feet. Josephine screeched and kicked her legs with all her might. A deep voice yelled against her scream, but the heartbeat pounding in her ears made it difficult to focus on the words. She thrashed about trying to break free, but the hands wrapped around her arms only tightened as her attacker moved back toward the cabin. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break free.
At the door of the cabin, her attacker lowered her to the ground and whirled her around.
“Josephine! It’s me! Jo!”
The voice that broke through her screaming was familiar. In fact, she would know that voice anywhere.
Josephine opened her eyes and blinked away the tears and raindrops. When her eyes focused, the first thing she noticed was a pair of pale eyes the color of spun straw. She sucked in a breath.
“Henry?” she choked out. “You’re alive?”
“Of course I am,” Henry replied, helping her to an upright sitting position.
For a few seconds, all Josephine could do was stare. Was this a dream? Was the man who had captured her heart so long ago really standing in front of her?
She carefully reached out with trembling fingers and brushed his cheek. A layer of stubble covered his strong jaw. As her fingers moved across the planes of his face, she began to tremble even harder. It was when he finally covered her hand with his own that she realized the man in front of her was no apparition or figment of her imagination.
He was real.
A hysterical cry erupted from her throat as she threw herself into his arms. She didn’t care that she was covered in mud or that they were likely to be struck by lightning if they didn’t take shelter soon. All that mattered was that Henry was alive.
Josephine sobbed against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat for reassurance, as Henry wrapped his arms around her and murmured soothing words in her ears. She couldn’t make out his words, but the deep tenor of his voice made her ache with relief.
“Shhh, Jo. It’s all right. I’m here.” Henry pried her away from his chest and pulled her face up to his. He pushed the matted strands of wet hair out of her eyes and gave her a gentle kiss. Despite the chill in the air, his lips were warm.
“Come on,” he whispered, when they broke apart. “Let’s get inside. This storm is likely to kill us both.”
Still reeling from shock, Josephine was shaky on her feet, but Henry’s strong arm wrapped around her waist and supported her as they made their way back to the cabin.
“I don’t understand,” she said, pulling Henry down beside her on the pile of potato sacks. “I thought you were dead.”
“I probably should be. I was in the barn when those men attacked. One minute I was fighting with one of them, and the next minute I woke up on the ground with the barn going up in flames around me. I barely got out in time.
“It wasn’t until I overheard the men talking that I realized I wasn’t the only one who got away,” Henry continued, squeezing her hand tight. “I knew it had to be you, Jo. As soon as it was safe, I headed south. I had a hunch you’d stick close to the river. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I found your tracks. I was beginning to think I was wrong, that I’d never be able to find you.”
“Well, you are the best tracker in the area.” Josephine snuggled a little closer. “And you did find me.”
“I wasn’t going to give up until I did just that. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Jo.”
After days of running, terrified for her life, Henry’s words were like a lifeline. A tear rolled down Josephine’s cheek, followed by another. She clung tighter to Henry, and an almost peaceful silence settled over them as they held each other.
But Josephine knew it was a stolen moment.
“We can’t stay here,” she finally whispered into the darkness. “We should keep moving. He won’t stop until he’s hunted me down.”
Her words had a sobering effect on Henry. He peeled himself away from her and looked into her eyes, his face solemn. “He? Jo, who are those men? I’ve never seen them before. Why would someone want to harm you and your family?”
Josephine bit her lip. Should she tell him the truth? And if she did, would he accept it? Her father had always warned her of this, of revealing their secret. But this was Henry. He had risked his own life to come after her. He loved her. He deserved to know.
She took a deep breath. “Henry, there’s something you have to know about my family. I . . .” The words caught in her throat.
Henry’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“My father,” she managed to continue, “comes from a line of very powerful . . .” Her throat tightened, making it difficult to speak, and her mind was working overtime trying to come up with the proper words to say. “You see, my father’s family . . . those men . . .”
A sob of frustration broke through her lips, and Josephine buried her face in her hands. The fear and anxiety crashed down upon her as heavy as her grief. She tried to swallow it down, to push it deep into the back of her mind, but after days of forcing herself to be numb, her resolve was disintegrating.