Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)

She stood.

When Stephen entered the small clearing alone, her heart sank.

“What news?” Robert questioned him, rising beside her.

Stephen dismounted and somberly delivered his report. “My search bore no success. I regret that I could not bring you better tidings, Mistress Bethany.”

Hope vanished. “Thank you anyway,” she said through numb lips.

Beth retook her seat by the fire and stared blankly into the dancing flames. But its warmth could not penetrate the cold that encased her.

The men cast her sympathetic glances and tiptoed around the clearing as though they thought the slightest sound or disturbance might set her to weeping and wailing at the top of her lungs.

She swallowed hard. Perhaps they were right. As she awaited Michael’s arrival, she felt as brittle and fragile as an eggshell. Easily shattered. As she feared she would be if Michael did not return with Josh riding behind him.

“Beth?”

Blinking eyes that burned, she looked over at Robert as he hunkered down beside her. “Yes?”

“I have a boon to ask of you.” He spoke in soft, carefully modulated tones, as if he, too, feared she would break down at the slightest provocation. But unlike the others, his kindness made her want to give in to the fear pressing down upon her, lean into him, and seek catharsis through tears.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“Might I borrow your blade for a moment?”

“My hunting knife?”

“Aye.”

“Sure.” Her mind still on her missing brother and the mystery of how she had come to be wherever the hell she was, Beth removed the large knife from its sheath and handed it over.

“My thanks, Beth.”

Nodding, she returned her gaze to the hypnotic flames and listened intently for sounds that would herald Michael’s approach.

They did not come for another hour.

When they did, Beth rose, stomach churning.

Robert joined her, standing shoulder to shoulder with her as though they were criminals in a courtroom, awaiting a judge’s sentence.

Beth slipped her hand into his much larger one, needing the warm contact in that moment.

His fingers curled around hers, and he drew her closer to his side.

When Michael rode into the clearing, his only company her bulky backpack alone, tears filled her eyes.

“Forgive me, mistress,” he said, his handsome features full of regret. “I did not find him.”

Beth nodded, afraid that if she tried to speak just then, she would fall apart.

When Robert tried to put his arm around her, she withdrew her hand and backed away.

If he did anything to console her, showed her any kindness at all, it would be her undoing. The sobs trapped inside her would find their release. And once started, she feared they would never end.

“Beth.”

Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and strode into the forest, not really knowing where she was going, just needing to get away, to find time and privacy to compose herself.





Chapter Five



Foliage closed above and behind Beth, erasing most of the moonlight. Darkness surrounded her, plucking at her shirt with wooden fingers and tripping her every other step. She probably should have stopped long enough to retrieve the flashlight from her backpack, but hadn’t wanted to wait. If she had, she might have succumbed to temptation and burrowed into Robert’s waiting arms, weeping loudly and using his already abused tunic for a tissue.

She considered using the flashlight on her cell phone, but knew the battery was running low. And she wouldn’t be able to use her solar charger until tomorrow.

A narrow branch, thick with leaves, slapped her in the face.

Beth swore softly. Just one more scratch to add to a host of others.

Freaking thing stung, though.

Pausing, she touched her cheek. Her fingers came away dry. Good. No blood.

The sounds of the forest swelled around her. Owls. Frogs. Things she couldn’t identify.

Screeching things.

Scuttling things.

Reaching back to touch the pocket that cradled her cell phone, Beth peered into the night as disquiet crept in. Where the hell was she anyway? She hadn’t meant to go so far, but could no longer see the light of the fire.

A twig snapped behind her.

Beth spun around and gasped as a large figure loomed over her.

Bringing up her fists, she prepared to fight.

“Rest easy, Beth. ’Tis me.”

“Robert!” Wilting with relief, she dropped her fists. “You were so quiet I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

His teeth flashed in a smile, though his eyes—what she could see of them in the darkness—remained watchful. “’Tis a skill my brother taught me.”

“Well, you’re very good at it,” she praised with a faint smile. “Don’t do it again.”

He chuckled. “As you wish.” He motioned to a large hump on his back. “I thought you might need your things if you wished to bathe and refresh yourself.”

He had brought her backpack? That was thoughtful of him.

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