That was what Aaron had been afraid of.
Twelve
Jonas met Sophia at the trees and showed her the way to the cottage he’d found.
With a large portion of roof fallen in and a wild tangle of brush and grass extending from a nearby grouping of trees, there was no question as to whether or not the place had long been abandoned. She dearly hoped it looked better on the inside than the outside, but that would wait until she returned with their dinner.
As much as she wanted to see Rhiannon and share every detail of her day with Jonas, she didn’t want to chance missing the tray, so she took her knapsack and returned to her little attic room and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
By the time the tray was delivered by a hesitant and harried-looking housemaid, Sophia was desperate for both the food and a chance to get away from her own thoughts. All they seemed able to do was bounce between guilt that Jonas didn’t have the same comforts she did, terror that she’d fail, and irritation that thinking of her job always slid to thoughts of Mr. Whitworth and how she couldn’t remember the last time a handsome man had been nice to her.
She jammed all the food together on a single plate before covering it with the other and wrapping the entire makeshift container in a pillowcase before lowering it gently into her sack. A glance at the bed had her biting her lip and carefully arranging the blanket to hide the bareness. She would have to remember to bring all the linens back with her tonight, along with the dishes.
There was no good way to carry the tea, so she gulped it down before creeping down the stairs to carefully deposit her tray with the dishes awaiting cleaning. She hoped her heart didn’t damage her throat with its thumping as she jumped at every noise. She knew she had been invited and had every right to be there, but she didn’t feel welcome. Everything about the situation felt wrong.
The pressure eased from her chest with every step she took away from the grand house. All the stress and newness of her day’s experiences had left a strange pall over her entire being.
She didn’t have to worry about any of that for the rest of the evening. The fresh air filled her lungs and stretched right down to her toes, making every step lighter and easier.
No one seemed to pay her any attention as she walked into the countryside, avoiding the main streets and carefully retracing the path she’d taken earlier. As she passed the final landmark—a tree that had twisted into a curve and now grew along the ground—the shabby abandoned cottage came into view.
It couldn’t be any worse than sleeping beneath the wagon or with the horses. Even some of the dilapidated inns they’d stayed in weren’t much better. Still, by the time she picked her way through the overgrowth, the lightness brought about by her walk was once more buried under a mountain of indecision and guilt.
“Jonas?” She knocked on a door lying crooked in its frame, only the top hinge remaining. “Are you there?”
The leather hinge creaked as the door swung slowly inward. Jonas leaned one shoulder on the doorpost. “I thought about making a visit to the local duke, but they say he’s rarely in residence, so I decided I might as well stay here and wait for you.”
Sophia rolled her eyes and pushed past him to get a look at his temporary home.
The corner that no longer had a roof to support had crumbled into a pile of rubble, but the rest of the structure appeared sound. A scattering of shabby furniture had been pulled into the corner farthest from the exposed portion. The table had certainly seen better days, but it didn’t fall when she gave it a little push before setting her knapsack atop it.
That morning’s dishes were stacked in one corner, while Jonas’s Bible, a hoof-pick, and a small pile of twigs sat in the middle.
A single wall divided the interior, though part of it had fallen victim to the elements. It was little more than waist high in spots and stopped several feet shy of the other wall. Rhiannon poked her head over one of the low sections, greeting Sophia with an enthusiastic nod and whinny.
While Jonas unpacked the food, Sophia walked carefully into the crumbling side of the cottage. Most of the floor had been cleared of debris to give the horse adequate space.
Sophia indulged herself and the animal with a good, long hug. As she scratched the mare behind the ears, she gave the area a closer look. What she’d thought was a haphazard pile of wood and stone looked deliberate upon closer inspection. “What are you doing over there?”
Jonas poked his head over the low wall to see where she was indicating. “I’m building a stall.” He turned an accusing glare on the horse. “She keeps to her space fine when I’m here, but as soon as I leave, she likes to wander. I’m fashioning a stall to put her in while I’m gone to get water or gather firewood.”
Her throat clogged with a hard rock of emotion as she nodded. She’d seen Jonas briefly a few hours earlier. How could she miss them as much as she did?
“We couldn’t talk much earlier. Did you ride today?” Jonas leaned against the wall, plate of food in hand. It was difficult to eat with gentlemanly manners while standing in a collapsing building, but he was trying.
“Yes, I rode today.” She’d done well enough not to embarrass herself, but was it good enough to win? She was terrified that everything would be over in a week and all this effort would have been in vain.
“Soph.”
She ran a hand through Rhiannon’s mane. “Yes?”
“How did it go?”
“We went fast, and I didn’t fall off.”
“Given those are the objectives, I’d say you did well, then.” He shrugged. “Better than going slow and landing in the mud, anyway.”
Sophia gave the horse one last pat before moving to the other side of the cottage to collect her own plate. Two broken chairs were piled in the corner, but a third sat at the table. She gave it a test before lowering herself onto it.
“Did we do the right thing, Jonas?”
He watched her for a moment before setting his empty plate down and nudging her portion closer to her. Then he picked up the hoof-pick and crossed to one of the wooden support beams. He dug the tip into the wood. “Unless you’ve come up with a way to undo the days, that’s a useless question.” He paused in his efforts and looked at her. “And if you had such a power, I’d like to think you’d have used it to keep Prancer from ever stepping on that loose ground and sliding into the ravine.”
Sophia contemplated throwing her bread at the bothersome man, but she wouldn’t waste food. How could he joke about that? Fresh pain stabbed through her chest at the memory of those horrible moments. The screams the pounding rain could not drown out. Jonas lying in the mud where his horse had thrown him before tumbling down the side of the ravine. The pain on his face as he tried to stand and go to his horse.
She set her bread gently on the plate. It would be several moments before she could swallow anything. “I thought we didn’t discuss how things could have been.”
“Sorry, Soph,” Jonas said with a shrug and a smile that said he was apologetic, but not completely. “You started it.” He turned back to the beam and dug at it once more with the pick.
He had a point. He always had a point. Brothers were infuriating.
She rose and crossed the room to look over his shoulder as the fading evening sunlight streamed through a windowless hole in the wall. “What are you doing?”