Chapter 5

Five

Sparrow stood slightly behind H, huddled in his shadow as he peered through the gloom. A warm, dry wind gusted, blowing strands of her hair into her eyes.

The two of them had spent all day walking beside the river—although, was walking the correct word? They'd scrambled over boulders, pushed through reeds in a sandy, marshy area, and the last two hours had picked their way up a gravel incline to traverse this bit of riverbank where the water cut a deep ravine through the land.

"Do you smell smoke?" H asked now, voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head. It was silly, because she stood behind him. When he prompted, "Sparrow?" she whispered, "No."

Her nose detected only dust and sweat and the peat-like scent that meant rain was coming. For the past hours, towering clouds had rolled in, obliterating the sky. Thunder grumbled in the distance, but the air still felt too dry to mean rain.

She didn't feel much like a sparrow right now—or perhaps she did. Fear swirled inside her, beating like the wings of a bird. She wanted to shout, "Run away!" but something inside her snatched her voice.

H turned toward her. For one moment she was enveloped in his heat, safe in the protective circle of his arms. But he was only urging her back the way they'd come.

When they reached the bend, the river rolled fierce and rapid. She started to get on her hands and knees to scrabble downward. H caught her arm in his hand.

With one finger over his lips, he guided her around a narrow cut in the land she hadn't noticed before. From here, she was hidden from the deer track they'd been on, completely out of sight of whatever H had been watching.

Her nostrils twitched. The scent of smoke.

H pulled her close under his arm and spoke directly into her ear. His words felt hot against her sensitive skin and she stifled a shudder.

"I think someone's got a camp up there."

For a moment, her heart thrilled. Was someone looking for them?

But then realization dawned. H hadn't called out, hadn't approached this possible camp. Were they in danger?

"I want to get closer," he murmured. "Figure out if whoever is up there is friend or foe."

The wind flicked dust against her cheeks and into her eyes. She gripped his shirt. "Don't go up there."

He smoothed his fingers across her cheek. "I'm gonna skirt around to the higher ground on the other side of the camp. Couldn't see anyone moving, but that doesn't mean much from the vantage point we had."

This time the gust of wind brought a stronger smell of smoke. How big was the campfire? In the growing dark, she saw the worry in his eyes.

"Here." H shrugged out of his coat, his arm brushing against her in their closeness. He wrapped the garment around her.

It was so big that it swamped her. But it also brought the warmth of his body, his familiar scent—the smell she'd breathed in when she'd woken in his arms this morning, her nose pressed into his neck—enveloping her.

"Be careful," she breathed.

He pecked her lips with a brief kiss and then disappeared around the jagged rocky edge.

She glanced around. The roaring water only feet away made her tremble. She couldn't say whether it was from the present danger or a memory that wouldn't surface. All day, she'd been plagued with flashes of faces—she couldn't remember the names to go with the people—and a humming voice in her head. She guessed it was her mam.

A tree had grown up on the rocky ledge above the water's edge, and she wedged herself between it and the boulder that made up part of the rocky wall arching above her head.

It must've only been a minute or so, but she already wondered where H was. How soon before he returned?

Be careful . The words she'd said to H echoed in her mind and a memory surfaced with crystal clarity.

"Be careful." She handed a bundle of loose papers to her brother. Joseph.

A beat of relief pulsed through her. She'd remembered her brother's name.

"You'll write to me? Promise."

There was Joseph's rogue smile. A train whistle blew and another figure approached through the crowd on the platform steps.

H.

"It's time."

In this memory, H looked younger by a few years, his face missing some of its lines. And serious. If possible, even more than the grave expression he'd worn only moments ago before he'd left her.

"Promise you'll look after my brother?"

H turned an unsmiling gaze on her and nodded. "You have my word."

He'd thumped Joseph on the shoulder and they'd gone, disappearing into the crowd as they boarded the train.

Sparrow blinked and the memory receded. H had been friends with her brother. There was something about his manner… a sadness she didn't recognize.

Where had Joseph gone?

Lightning cracked, cutting through the sky in a jagged line. Before she could brace, or even breathe, it seemed as if the whole world was crashing with thunder.

That had been close.

Shaking, she flexed her hands on the tree. She was safe, wasn't she?

Her mind clung to the distraction of her most recent memory. Was it strange that the H in her memory had barely glanced at her? He hadn't kissed her goodbye, hadn't looked at her with the affection and warmth he'd shown the past two days.

Perhaps they'd become close later, a time after the memory had taken place. Maybe Joseph had connected them.

But she couldn't quite shake the uneasy feeling that had taken root in her gut remembering the shadows in the memory-H's eyes. What had hurt him?

Another flare of too-close lightning flashed. Another crash of thunder. She cried out, the sound swallowed up by the roaring wind. This time when the wind swirled, the scent of smoke made her eyes water.

Was the river rising? The waves over the rocks had white caps now. Perhaps it was raining upstream?

Her heart thudded loudly in her ears. H had tucked her into this outcropping for safety—but he surely hadn't thought about the storm affecting the river. An awful feeling that something was wrong rolled over her in waves. It had been too long since he'd gone.

Lightning struck again, illuminating a tree branch hurtling downstream. Her lungs protested the smoke, and she couldn't help coughing.

She couldn't wait here. Not now.

Urgency knotted her stomach as she stepped away from the tree to go back up the path, in the direction H had gone.

What if the camp was abandoned, but H couldn't find his way back to her?

What if he'd been injured?

Thoughts tumbled and spun as she ascended this rise. And the hazy smoke grew thicker. Her foot slipped and without something to hold onto, she fell to her hands and knees. She forced herself back to her feet. She coughed again, breathing hard. She needed a better viewpoint.

In the dark, she strained her eyes to see through the smoke. This was more than a campfire, more than the bonfire she and H had created yesterday. Where was he?

She could barely make out the thinning trees—was this where she and H had stopped as he'd watched the camp? Beyond, a glowing red lined the horizon.

Fire!

Lightning struck again, illuminating two dark shadows moving in a jagged, awful dance through the smoke.

Fighting. Struggling.

And then it was dark again.

Fear held her immobile. H had told her to wait?—

She forced her feet to carry her up the embankment, though she had to scrabble for footing. "H! Fire!"

Thunder rolled again. Frightened, she crouched and covered her head with one arm.

A jagged streak of light split the sky and illuminated someone—not H—with arm raised over a bundle on the ground.

Was that H?

"No!" The rolling thunder stole her voice again.

And then a sound. Pow! Different than the thunder, sharper somehow.

A man's cry.

"H!"

H had left Sparrow behind that rocky outcropping and made his way silently through the woods and around behind the campsite—or what he thought was a campsite. He'd seen a glimpse of a small campfire, a bedroll. A bundle that might've been clothes or supplies. With each step, smoke had grown thicker and thicker until it had enveloped him, blocking his view.

The trees thinned out on this bluff so he crouched behind what little cover he'd found in a large rock shaped like a goose egg.

Growing light on the horizon drew his attention from the campsite and his stomach twisted.

The smoke and glow could only mean one thing. Wildfire.

He looked up to the sky. The boiling clouds promised rain, but none fell. Not yet.

His legs twitched with the urge to run back to Sparrow. Run!

But a noise stopped him. He strained his ears. Was that the blow of a horse? The sound was distant. Was someone on the approach?

Friend or foe?

Lightning flashed and for a moment, a haze of white blurred H's vision.

Just as his sight began to clear, a darker blur emerged from the smoke and struck out.

He ducked to the side, but he moved a second too slow. That moment of surprise meant he took the blow on his shoulder. When he would've pushed up and faced his attacker head-on, the man's—it had to be a man, tall and broad—foot came out and swept H's feet out from under him.

He sprawled in the dry undergrowth and rolled away just in time to feel a kick that'd missed its target by a hairsbreadth.

"Who are you?" H demanded as he jumped to his feet.

Lightning split the sky again, revealing a craggy face. Dark pits where the man's eyes should be.

A ghost.

Or was the blowing smoke obscuring H's vision? Ghosts didn't exist, couldn't have knocked him down.

Dark again, thunder so deep it made it feel as if the ground was rolling beneath H's feet. He coughed, the sound jarring.

The man hadn't moved toward H. He was there, a shadow in the darkness. Listening? Why didn't he answer?

"My—I'm lost out here," he said urgently, stifling the urge to cough again. He'd almost mentioned his wife—Sparrow.

Something inside him had choked back the words before they emerged. If this person wasn't a friend, he didn't want him to know about Sparrow.

"Are you a scout?" H demanded, the man's silence threatening.

Another lightning strike illuminated the moment when the man turned—away.

No.

If the man was out here on horseback, he might've sighted a wagon train. Or fort. Somewhere H could find help. He threw himself at the retreating man, only for the man to whirl at the last minute and send a blow into H's midsection.

The unexpected pain brought tears to his eyes and stole his breath, the smoke making him gag. H gripped onto the man's coat, fingers sliding on leather. This wasn't a ghost. It was a flesh and blood man. Was the roaring crackle of the fire closer?

A glancing blow off H's ear caused a hiss of pain. And jolted a memory through him. Being struck across the head, jeering voices. Lying face down in the dirt, soil in his nose.

The fractured scene lasted only a second, but H's grip loosened and the man jerked away.

H got his hands up in front of him and blocked the neck blow thrown toward his face, but the man kicked out unexpectedly and connected with H's ankle.

He went down, fingers slipping against the pebbled ground, searching for purchase.

The man loomed over him, arm raised as lightning split the sky again. A few stray raindrops hit H's face. Instinct took over, and H drew his revolver from his holster, shooting at almost the same instant that the barrel cleared leather.

From the ground, he hadn't had the best angle. But when the man cried out, H knew his bullet had grazed him.

"H!" The wind muffled the cry, but H would know that voice anywhere.

Sparrow.

This time when the man darted away, H didn't follow.

His head was ringing as he dragged himself to his feet.

Sparrow appeared through a swirl of smoke.

It was so dark that he barely registered her wide, frightened eyes. She threw herself at him, and he held on with one arm, gun still drawn in his opposite hand.

His right shoulder ached where it'd been yanked. He twisted in a circle. The man wouldn't get the jump on him again. Not with Sparrow in the mix.

But all of H's instincts screamed that the man was gone.

Several heartbeats passed. He was slipping the gun back into its holster when far off lightning illuminated the sky enough to see Sparrow close.

Rain began to pelt them.

"Was there someone—?" she asked. When she pressed against him, he groaned, unable to keep the sound in when her body touched his tender, bruised ribs.

Her hand cupped his jaw. "I thought you'd been killed!"

Fear and anger surged. "I told you to stay put."

He began moving, anxious to get away. He heard hoofbeats over the sound of the rain, but he didn't want to be here if the man came back.

Foe.

H had gotten his answer.

Sparrow was talking. "…smoke… wildfire."

"The rain will douse it," he told her. Drops were sheeting down on them. Surely the wildfire wouldn't survive this torrent of rain.

"But the river is rising," she said.

For a moment, a memory surfaced. Him clinging to Sparrow's narrow waist beneath tumultuous water.

His anger that she hadn't listened to him ebbed completely in a wave of relief.

His hand closed around her waist. She was here, real and safe—for now—with him.

And only then did he realize that the driving rain wasn't soaking into the too-dry ground. Water rushed over his boots, over the ground. This rain could turn into a flash flood.

"We need to get somewhere safe."

It wouldn't be safe down low, near the river. And he didn't know which direction the man had gone.

In the dark, with water pouring from the sky in buckets, his sense of direction was discombobulated.

Or maybe it was his head.

A fierce pain felt as if his skull was splitting apart and he put one hand to his temple.

"H!"

He almost went to his knees, but some surge of protective instinct forced his numb feet to keep moving.

She tugged him by the arm when he couldn't see for the pain behind his eyes. Some of the rain abated and he forced his eyes open—when had he closed them?—to see she'd found a narrow opening where a bluff rose overhead. An alcove in the rock gave them some shelter.

Gave him some shelter. She'd pushed him to the inside and was still getting soaked.

It was dark, but he could make out the shape of her face. Her breath fogged at the open neck of his shirt.

She reached up to wipe his chin and he realized the warmth trickling from the corner of his mouth was blood.

"You're hurt." Her words held an accusing tone to them.

"He got the jump on me," H admitted. "But I'll be all right."

Her hand brushed against the left side of his ribcage. He couldn't hide the wince in these cramped quarters. He was close enough to see her face crumple.

He did what felt natural and gathered her to him, ignoring the twinge in his ribs. Somehow he knew his ribs were not broken, only bruised.

Sobs shook her slight body, so he nestled her even closer. They were both soaked through. Her skin felt chilled where her cheek pressed against his neck.

"Who-who was that?" she mumbled against his skin.

"I don't know. Not a friend."

Run! Even if the man hadn't been a scout looking for the two of them, the fact that he'd refused to help, to give any information, was a concern.

What was a man alone doing out here? Could he be some kind of mercenary? What was he looking for?

"We can't stay here. Need to keep moving," H said into her hair.

He'd put them in this danger, with his insistence that they search for help instead of waiting for it to come to them. He'd been the one to suggest staking out the campsite.

Now the man might decide to hunt the two of them.

H had put Sparrow in danger.

She shook her head, the movement brushing her nose back and forth across his skin.

"I'm fine," he murmured.

"I need to hold you for a moment more," she said.

His thoughts had been focused on the dangerous man, on their escape. But at her words, he registered the feel of her palms against the back of his neck, her fingers digging into his shoulders. The brush of her skirts against his legs. The feel of her back beneath his slicker and her dress.

This wasn't the moment for a kiss. Not when he'd struggled so mightily after their last kiss. Not when she was so upset. But he let himself cup the back of her head in his hand as she pressed close. Feel her alive in his arms, each shuddering breath something to be grateful for.

He couldn't seem to help edging her a half inch closer. He felt it too. Having someone care for him like she did—it felt like everything.

Like a home he'd been missing.

Like he'd do anything to protect her.

But what was he going to do now?