“Actually,” Elliot said quickly. “About that?—”
“You can travel where you like,” Avery continued determinedly. “But if I fall in any more streams, don’t worry. I can swim.”
She climbed onto her cart and retrieved the mare’s reins.
Elliot put his hand on the horse’s neck. “Avery! Wait.”
She froze at the sound of her name, and he held his breath, hopeful. But after a moment of silence, she flicked the reins. The mare began to move, ignoring his presence, and he had to step back or be knocked down by the cart.
“Avery!” he called after her. “Please let me?—”
But there was no point calling after the back of the cart. She clearly wasn’t coming back.
“Blast.” He heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping. His brief hope hadn’t lasted very long.
Already he could feel the pull of symptoms, and he knew he would have to start following her if he didn’t want to end up incapacitated. A light breeze brushed against his wet clothes and made him shiver.
He looked down at himself and then after the retreating cart. He shook his head and chuckled. The girl did know how to make an exit. She was as wet as he was, but you wouldn’t guess it from the way she’d taken off.
He gathered the blanket she’d left behind on the road and folded it neatly with his own. He left them in a pile at the nearest doorstep. He needed to get moving before the villagers tried to stop him and accidentally brought disaster. He just hoped Avery would stop soon and find a place to change. When she did, he would?—
His eyes widened as he looked around at the empty road. He couldn’t do the same thing because his pack was still in her cart. Along with his boots.
He wriggled his toes, grimacing. It was going to be a painful trip.
His head spun, and the beginning of a headache drummed against his right temple. He started walking. Boots or no boots, he couldn’t linger any longer while the cart got further away.
He had hoped Avery might have stopped at the first stand of trees beyond the hamlet, but something was driving her forward. His feet were battered and sore by the time he finally felt the lessening of his headache—his first indication that he was closing the gap with the cart. She must have stopped at last.
He didn’t even try to be subtle as he limped off the road into the stand of trees that appeared in front of him. Without boots, he had fallen far enough behind that she should have had time to complete her clothing change before his arrival, and he was too tired and sore to stop for niceties.
The cart came into view, the mare still hitched to the front, and his eyes went straight to the empty bench. The children had put his boots and pack underneath, and they were probably still there.
He had nearly reached the side of the cart when someone grabbed his arm, spinning him around. He caught a glimpse of Avery’s scowling face as she twisted his arm and slammed his back against the wood of the cart.
“Enough!” she hissed. “Why are you following me? If you can’t give me a convincing answer, I’m going to have to take measures to ensure you can’t follow me any longer.”
He felt the prick of a dagger point against his right leg.
Chapter 7
Avery
Avery had left the hamlet on impulse. She told herself she just wanted to get away from undeserved thanks and praise from the villagers and to distance herself from the thief before he made another attempt to rob her. But she knew the truth was more complicated.
Elliot confused her. She didn’t want to hear whatever smooth explanation he produced in case it confused her further.
She should have stopped quickly to change out of her wet clothes, but the discord in her mind spurred her on for too long. Eventually she scolded herself for foolishness and directed Nutmeg into a clump of trees. By the time she was in dry clothes, she felt a lot more settled. She should have changed sooner.
But as she walked back toward her horse, a figure limped between the trees. She watched open-mouthed as Elliot approached the cart with single-minded focus.
For the first time, fear overwhelmed her confusion, her curiosity, and even her indignation. Who was Elliot, and why was he so fixated on her and her wares?
Before she’d formed a conscious plan, her dagger appeared in her hand. Springing across the space between them, shegrabbed his arm. Twisting it, she spun him against the side of the cart.
Chest heaving, she leaned in until there was no space separating them.
“Enough!” Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you following me? If you can’t give me a convincing answer, I’m going to have to take measures to ensure you can’t follow me any longer.”