Page 68 of Cottage in the Mist
But now…
She blew out a long breath and met Jeff’s gaze. “I need to find a private place. And then we can be on our way.”
He nodded, and turned back to Fergus and William, the three of them still engaged in the neverending game of male one-upmanship.
Lily turned and walked back the way they’d come, watching the dappled light dance against the water as it streamed through the trees. Quiet descended, and she made her way upstream until she reached a copse of small trees. Weaving her way among the saplings, she found shelter behind an outcropping of rock and relieved herself.
Score one for the future. Flush toilets couldn’t be discounted. But there was more to life than modern conveniences. Laughingat her musings, she stood up again, tugging the linen shirt and plaid back into place.
The quiet seemed to have deepened. As if the animals who lived in the woods had all paused—listening. Lily shivered. She was letting her imagination run wild. Fergus and William and Jeff were only a few yards downstream. There was nothing to fear. Yet somewhere, deep inside her, something called for her attention.
She stopped, listening, waiting for some sound to validate her hesitation. Her fear. For a moment there was only silence. And then she heard it.
A keening wail. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she strained to hear more as the sound died away. For a moment there was nothing but the wind and the trees and the rushing water. And then… and then the sound repeated itself. A hollow, echoing cry. Soft and yet penetrating. An animal—no, a human—in pain.
Senses on alert now, Lily stood, heart pounding, waiting for the sound to come again, knowing with every fiber of her being that someone needed her help.
Silence. One beat. Two. And then again the cry.
She ran forward, heedless of the noise she was making, intent only on finding the source of the sound, of helping whomever might be in need. From behind her she heard footsteps crashing through the undergrowth. Fergus, Jeff and William, no doubt. They, too, must have heard the cries.
But despite the knowledge that they were coming, she didn’t stop. Her need to help superseded every other instinct—including caution. Someone was in trouble and she was the closest. Crashing through the undergrowth, she leapt across a fallen tree, marveling at her own agility. Adrenaline spurred her onward as a groan of pain filtered through the forest.
Ahead, the stream curved into a horseshoe creating a small clearing filled with sunlight, the trees forming a ring of silent guardians on its edges.
“Wait,” Fergus gasped as he reached Lily, grabbing her elbow and pulling her to a jarring halt. “Ye canna ken if ’tis friend or foe.”
“Whoever it is, Fergus, he needs our help.” Lily jerked her arm free, despite knowing that the older man was speaking the truth. All she could think was that someone was in need and that she was in a position to help. God knows she’d had her own pain of late and she’d been grateful for the people that had offered their support. Strangers all of them—Bram included. She knew she was being a fool, and yet the cry resonated deep inside her. Someone needed her. And she was damn well going to be there.
“Lily.” Jeff’s voice reached her as she started creeping forward again. “Caution.”
She hesitated, her gaze sweeping across the clearing. Fergus and Jeff moved to flank her on either side, William just behind. All of them waited—listening.
The wind rose, and then the keening began again. Rising and then dying as the breeze rushed across the waving grass.
“Over here,” Lily called as she moved forward.
A large rock rose out of the ground on the far side of the little meadow. Lichen covered one side, silvery-gray stretching up like long fingers across the face of the boulder. At its foot, a dark shadow moved, then was still.
“He’s here.” Lily dropped to her knees, her eyes assessing the man who lay at her feet. A thatch of chestnut hair matted with sweat and blood. Dark brown eyes staring up into hers. Pain dimming everything but the barest hint of humanity.
“It’s all right,” she whispered as she searched his body for injury. “We’ve found you now.”
The man—not much older than she was—sighed, the exhale colored with pain and relief. Besides the blood on his head, his shirt was also stained with blood, the sheer size of the spot taking Lily’s breath away.
“Oh God,” she whispered as she reached for the hem of his shirt, ripping away the bottom. Folding the linen, she made a bandage of sorts and pressed it to the wound, feeling the pulse of his heart beneath her hands.
“What’ve ye found, lass?” Fergus asked as he joined her on his knees before the fallen man.
“I don’t know.”
The injured man’s eyes met hers, his fear palpable. “We’re here to help,” she soothed, wishing for better words. “Can you tell me your name?”
The man opened his mouth, a gurgle of God knows what escaped, and then he swallowed, his eyes taking on a glint of determination. “Robby.”
She could barely make out the sound. “Robby?” she asked, her heart pounding.
The man nodded. “Corley.”
