She stopped and held her hand above her eyes to block the falling snow to try and get a better look. What she saw frightened her and got her moving. The troop had disappeared from sight, the heavily swirling snow blurring her path. She hurried to catch up, but after a few minutes she realized that she could not see the troop at all.
Panic rose in her. No one knew she had joined the troop. No one would search for her. If she didn’t catch up with them, there would be a good chance—a very good chance—that she would die in the snowstorm, never to be discovered.
She hurried along, praying as she went that she would come upon the troop. What seemed like hours later, her legs unable to support her any longer, she collapsed in the snow too exhausted to move. She told herself she would take a brief rest and start again and not stop until she caught up with them. She kept promising herself that as she curled up in a ball on the ground and her eyes drifted closed.
Cree rode alongside his troop of men, calling out, “You know the drill. Stay shoulder to shoulder or suffer the consequences.” He and his warriors had traveled through many a snowstorm. They all knew that if they didn’t stay close—touching—that they could very well fall behind and that would be the end—the snow would claim them.
As he traveled the line, Cree counted. When he got to the end, he yelled reminding the young lads to stay close. With his count accurate, he was about to turn his horse when he saw a sizeable lump of snow in the middle of the road only a few feet behind them. He thought to take a look, but with his count accurate it couldn’t be one of his men. Besides, he wanted to get his troop to the abandon croft about an hour away. There would be enough shelter there to get everyone warm and fed and to get a good night’s sleep since tomorrow they would travel until they reached the abbey. And that was a full day’s ride away.
He turned his horse and rode to the front of the line, thoughts of Dawn weighing heavily on his mind.
Chapter Two
The long abandoned croft was a welcome sight. It had once been a thriving farm and Cree intended it to be so once again, though it would also serve as a sentinel station. He planned on having several of the empty crofts do double duty. He wanted his people and land well protected and early detection of any approach to his land would help with that. He had already had some of his men begin work on the place, so a few of the buildings had seen some repair and would provide sufficient shelter for the night.
Warmth greeted Cree when he entered the cottage and he went straight to the fireplace and held his cold hands out to the heat of the roaring flames. He gave a glance around as his hands warmed. Food and drink waited on the small table he had stepped around to get to the fireplace, while a make-shift pallet lay to the side. Sloan had seen well to his duties and was now seeing to the warriors, though when it had come to battles, Cree had been right there to help with the aftermath of death and destruction.
The image of Dawn suddenly filled his thoughts and chased the horrific memories away. He found himself smiling, something he had been doing more of since Dawn had entered his life. He truly hoped this mission would not take long. He wanted to find his sister, return home to Dawn, and wed her so that she would be officially his. Then he would find a good husband for his sister.
Wintra.
She had been so angry when he had left her at the abbey ten years ago. But what choice had he had? After their mother had died, he had known all too well that he would not be staying to work the land. He wanted more than a small parcel of land that he worked for someone else. Someone who cared naught for him and his sister and would put them out at a moment’s notice without thought to their welfare.
It hadn’t been an easy decision to take Wintra to the abbey, but it had been a wise one. He wanted her safe until he could provide a permanent home for her. It had taken longer than he had hoped and with the passing years Wintra had grown angrier with him. He wondered what she would do if she ever discovered the secret he and their mother had kept from her. That she was a child conceived of rape and that he was her half-brother. That day his mother had returned from the field, battered and bruised remained forever vivid in his mind. She had refused to tell Cree what had happened, and being just ten years, there hadn’t been much he could do about it. When she had begun to grow round with child, it had only proven what Cree had feared—that someone had raped his mother. But his mother would never speak about it. The only thing she would say to him was that it would be better if Wintra believed that she and Cree had the same father and so the lie began. As far as his sister would ever know, they shared the same father and he had died just before she had been born.