“It was nae longer home to me, lass.”
“You didn’t have to leave.”
“ ’Twas best for everyone.”
“Because of Papa?”
Tom swallowed. He almost lied, said something dismissive—but he nodded instead. “Aye.”
“It wouldn’t have lasted forever. He would have talked to you again. I know it.” Joanie leaned closer, a careful hand on his arm. “And you still had all of us. And Mamm.”
“It’s over now, lass. Best we not—”
A horse neighed outside.
Hooves pounding.
“Here.” Tom leaned up and handed the kitten over. “Perhaps Meade after all. When the work is finished.” An inch of satisfaction squirmed through him as he stepped outside, hinges squealing into the night. He had a door. The cottage smelled of soap and freshness. Every nail was intact, and soon enough, the outside walls would be a brilliant red.
He squinted at the form of a horse tied to the broken fence. Where was—
Something bashed into his face with blunt force.
He crashed back into the cottage, dazed, spots flickering across his vision.Joanie.He whipped back through the door. Slammed it shut and slid the latch. “Hide.” He staggered. Fire trailed along his cheekbone, stinging, and he was dimly aware that his face and neck were wet. “Hurry!”
“Oh Tom—”
He snatched her by the elbow, dragged her to the empty bedchamber. He slammed her inside. Her whimpers stoked his panic.Hammer.He spun around. He needed something. Anything. He spotted the tool across the room—
The door smashed open.
Shadows raced in.
Lunged.
Tom buckled under the weight of two men, their blows thrashing his head back and forth. They yanked him up. Slung him into a window.
Glass shattered around his head, but he barreled forward and rammed one of them in the groin. Down again. Rolling. Busting his fist into a prickly jaw, while someone else pummeled his back.
With a raging growl, Tom surged his fist into the man beneath him.
The figure stilled.
Darkened.
No.Tom breathed faster, harder, spittle spraying from his mouth. A boot knocked him off the body. Then kicked his stomach. Then his ribs.
Tom caught the muddy boot and yanked.
The man fell, but instead of turning on Tom, he dove for the bedchamber. He crashed his way inside before Tom could stop him.
Then a sickening sound battered the air.
Joanie’s scream.
CHAPTER 10
“If I had known our stay would be so extended, I would have brought a volume of poems.” Lord Cunningham leaned back in his squeaky chair, his white gloved hands a perfect contrast to the scratched and dented table.
