Page 102 of Gilded Locks

Grace smiled, then dashed into action.

He’d need her help not to get caught, that stubborn, foolish, sweetheart of a man. How did he ever expect to get himself out of the situations he got himself into?

She paused for half a second to help Willa to her feet. “Forget the wheat. Save the Rogue.”

“What? We trust him now?” Willa called, but Grace was already gone.

The Rogue slung the bow across his shoulders and began to run, straight at Grace. She saw what she thought was recognition as his eyes landed on her. But then, he tensed and sped his approach.

The shouts had drawn the attention of nearby patrolmen, and they, it seemed, had alerted those farther out, because Grace now saw several men converging on them.

Most of the farmers didn’t seem to know what to do. Milo and Frank Tucker were looking at the Rogue with the distinct appearance of men who wanted to tackle him to the ground. Grace veered to the right, heading for the storage barn, waving the Tuckers off.

“Frank, Milo,” she called.

They looked away from the Rogue and at Grace. They hurried to her. She didn’t bother slowing until the last moment, unwilling to lose any time. The Tucker brothers caught her. “What’s wrong, Grace?”

“Help him, but don’t look like you are” was all she said, then she reached for a scythe leaning against the barn, spun, and starting running again, back to the coach and toward the Rogue who had nearly reached his intended target.

Grace didn’t know if the Tuckers had heeded her—and it didn’t matter. Whether they did or not, she was not going to let theRogue be caught, and she would do everything she could to help him succeed.

As she ran, Grace veered toward the nearest patrolmen and stuck the non-blade end of her tool in their way, tripping them. “Oops! Sorry! Forgot it was that long.” She downed a couple of them that way.

The Rogue was at the carriage, pulling the door open. The driver took one look at him and leapt off his seat in the opposite direction, taking off for town.

Willa had moved around to the other side of the carriage and stood by the open door that Mr. Durr was trying to flee through. She kept shouting that she wanted to help, but she stayed put, preventing any actual exit from the carriage.

The Rogue reached into the open carriage and yanked the tax collector out the door near him, then he drew a sword from a sheath on his hip and held it out toward the man.

“Hand over the gold. Now.”

The man was shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

With a fluid motion, the Rogue crouched, swept his leg at the tax collector, and sent the man sprawling on the ground. Then he swung his sword toward the fallen man, who screamed and brought his hands up to protect his face. The Rogue’s sword sliced the rope holding the coin purse, then he snatched the bag from the ground and sheathed his sword.

“Thanks for the donation,” he said.

Grace reached the small group, panting but grinning so broadly it hurt. She looked the Rogue up and down, picturing the man she now knew to be behind the mask. How had she not seen how very fully he fit every aspect of the masked hero? She gazed into his eyes. Those hazel eyes.

I see you,Grace thought.

She pulled the pouch from her pocket and handed it to the Rogue. “The mayor won’t miss this,” she said, looking down atMr. Durr. “I’d be willing to bet someone else already falsified the records and repurposed it.”

The tax collector paled, glancing toward the carriage. She couldn’t tell if he could see his hatch—he was on the ground, but the missing wheel had left the undercarriage at an odd angle.

“Now go,” Grace said to the Rogue, and pointed her scythe at him. “Stop, thief!”

He stared at her, a question in his eyes.

“Go,” she insisted.

He turned and darted for the forest.

Grace and Willa turned to face the oncoming patrolmen, only to see a pile of people, scrambling to their feet. Grace didn’t know what had happened, but she was pretty sure Frank and Milo were behind it.

Several of the patrolmen veered away from the skirmish, heading for Sherwood Forest.

Grace looked at Willa. “Help them?” She nodded her head toward the pile of patrolmen and Tuckers.

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