Roman cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’ll be right there.” He turned to me and said, “I hope the weight and burden have been lifted off your shoulders tonight. We will conquer this together. We have each other no matter what awaits us on this journey.”
He lowered his lips to mine, kissing me with ferocious passion.
I was captivated by the warmth of his lips and the scratch of his stubble against my tender skin. Raw intensity stretched between us as our souls reached to one another to connect.
Far too soon, we withdrew from one another.
“Together, we can conquer anything,mi amore,” I said.
The following day we continued our journey. Marcellious kept his distance and answered questions with minimal effort. Finally, he galloped ahead of us.
The days and nights of riding, resting, eating, and sleeping became a blur. Finally, after days of riding, we came upon a home that had been badly burned. Only a few walls and the remnants of furniture, household goods, and appliances remained. Part of the roof clung to whatever it could for support.
My heart sank.
Her eyes glistened with tears. “It’s so sad. This used to be a beautiful home. We had a garden over there.”
She pointed to remnants of a fence surrounding a cluster of tall weeds.
“Our livestock lived in that field.” She pointed to a pasture to the left of the house. “My sister and I had a swing beneath that willow tree.”
A single rope stretched from the ground to a branch of the tree. All that was left of the swing was swaying listlessly in the breeze. The wood that made up the seat and the rope that had held up the other side lay in a tangle on the ground.
“Let’s go investigate,” I said. I took Emily’s hand and turned toward Roman, who still sat astride his horse. “We’re going to go look around. If anyone comes, yell for me, and I’ll be right out.”
Marcellious let out a snort.
“What’s the matter with you?” I snapped.
“Do you honestly think we might need your help if someone comes?” he said, resting one hand over the other on the horse’s neck.
“You might, yes,” I said hotly. “Three are better than two in a fight.”
Marcellious threw back his head and laughed. “You’re precious; I’ll grant you that, offering to help two trained gladiators.”
I scoffed. “Well, just keep it in the back of that thick skull. Just in case…”
I strode toward the remains of the front door, hoping I didn’t have to eat my words.
Olivia
This house had been rained on many times, but the stench still choked me as we walked through the burned remains. It was an indescribable scent, clotted with abandoned dreams and scorched decay.
I held my hand before my nose as I stepped over charred lumber, pieces of overturned furniture burned at the edges, and blackened, unrecognizable items. Light streamed into what was left of the house through the window frames. The crown glass that once perched between the wood had shattered over the floor. Fragments of ceiling and roof lay strewn across the floor like charcoal briquettes. A sturdy brick wall stood witness to the ruination.
Silent tears tracked down Emily’s cheeks as she stooped to pick up a broken shard of porcelain painted with a small red rose, now smudged with charcoal and dirt.
“These were the plates we dined on,” she said with a sniffle. She leaned over to retrieve a metal cup. “And this was what Papa drank his coffee from each morning. Those wicked soldiers destroyed our entire home.”
“I’m so sorry, Emily. This is a travesty.” I passed a pot-belly stove that stood like a sentinel amid charred debris. Its sturdy metal door hung open, revealing a mound of ash inside.
“I’m just so angry,” Emily said, balling up her fists by her sides. “This was ourhome.Papa built it with his own hands. Now it’s nothing but charcoal.”
“I know, Em.” I patted her shoulder. “But maybe we can still find the journal. Where did you say you found it?”
“It’s in Papa’s office—or whatusedto be Papa’s office,” Emily said, her mouth fixed in a tight line. “Follow me.”
She marched toward the back of the house and headed through the remnants of a doorway.
