His Bounty

chapter nine: fresh air

As I rode away from Valentine, the tightness in my chest began to ease. The dusty road behind me faded into a blur, replaced by the vibrant green of the forest. My mare moved with a steadiness, her hooves muffled by the soft earth beneath us. But I knew this reprieve was only fleeting; the shadows of my pursuers loomed larger with every passing moment.

The trail wound deeper into the woods, the tall trees forming a canopy overhead that dimmed the sunlight. I pushed aside my thoughts of Arthur and the uncertain bond we shared; I needed to focus on the here and now. My goal was clear: find a place to set up camp, somewhere far enough away from Valentine to feel safe yet close enough to the road should I need to make my escape.

After what felt like an eternity, I arrived at Cotorra Springs. The sound of bubbling water greeted me, a soothing melody that mingled with the rustle of leaves in the breeze. I dismounted and led my mare to a patch of soft grass near the water's edge. I tethered her to a nearby tree and began to gather sticks for a fire.

As I worked, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was being watched. Each crack of a branch, each whisper of the wind felt amplified, twisting my stomach into knots.

With the fire crackling to life, I settled onto the ground, resting against a smooth stone. I took a moment to survey my surroundings.

The beauty of the springs was captivating, yet it felt strangely deceptive, as if the serene landscape was a façade masking the lurking threat. The trees swayed gently, and the sound of water lapping against the rocks seemed to invite me to relax. But how could I?

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground, I began to prepare a small meal. The scents of cooking meat and herbs filled the air, and I savored the moment of solitude, even as my mind whirled with thoughts of Jake. His easy smile and careless charm lingered in my thoughts, each reminding me of the comfort I had briefly felt.

But trust was a dangerous game, one I could not afford to play. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I couldn't allow myself to grow attached to anyone—not now, not when I was being hunted. My safety depended on it.

Just as I was about to take a bite, I heard a noise in the brush behind me. I turned, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. My hand instinctively moved toward the knife at my belt, fingers brushing against the hilt.

"Is anyone there?"

Silence followed, thick and heavy, but then a figure stepped into the clearing. It was a man—tall, with dark hair and an easy gait. My stomach dropped, and I tensed, preparing for a confrontation.

"Just me," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "Didn't mean to startle you."

Recognition washed over me. It was Jake. "What are you doing here?" I snapped. "I thought I made it clear I didn't need your help."

He held up his hands, palms outward. "I'm not here to cause trouble. I was just passing by and saw the smoke from your fire. Thought I'd check it out."

"Well, you've checked it out. Now you can leave."

Jake took a step closer, the warmth of the fire illuminating his features. "Listen, I get it. You're on the run, and you don't want to draw attention. But you don't have to do this alone. I can help you—"

"You don't know what I'm dealing with."

He paused, the weight of my words hanging in the air between us. "Maybe not. But I know enough to see you're not safe out here by yourself."

The truth in his words gnawed at me, and for a moment, I hesitated. The desire for companionship warred with the instinct to protect myself.

"You should go. You don't want to get caught up in my mess."

He stepped closer again, his expression serious. "You're not a mess, sweetheart. But if you keep pushing folks away, you're going to find yourself completely alone when the danger comes knocking."

The fire crackled loudly in the tense silence that followed. I felt a mix of gratitude and frustration at his concern. "And what makes you think you can protect me, hotshot? You barely know me."

"True," he said, his voice softening. "But I'm willing to learn."

Perhaps he was right; perhaps I had been so focused on survival that I had overlooked the simple fact that I didn't have to bear this burden alone.

"Fine," I relented, my voice barely above a whisper. "But just for tonight. I can't promise anything beyond that."

Jake nodded, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "That's all I asked."

As he settled a short distance from me, the night deepened around us. The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, and I felt a strange sense of security in his presence, even as the shadows of my past continued to loom just beyond the tree line.