Never Never (8 page)

T
he days
of the journey to the castle passed in gentle repetition of the ones that came before. Declan got slowly stronger and by the seventh day was sitting up part of the time on the driver's bench with Kevin. Some days they found meat and some days they didn't. But nobody ever went to bed hungry and there was a routine to their days.

Sarah made her peace with Fiona and even with Mike to a certain extent. They didn't talk about their differences and Sarah wasn't sure they ever would. She tried not to think any further than the day she was living although in the back of her mind she
knew
she would be traveling back down this road within weeks. Either with Mike or alone, she would return to the convent and by God and all that was holy, she would find John there waiting for her.

It was this thought that allowed her to take each day as it came. It allowed her to let out the long breath she'd been holding and relax into the rhythm of her days on the road. She even found herself laughing a few times and there was a look every now and then that Mike gave her—deeply loving and caring—that reminded her of how things used to be.

Even Siobhan had relented her policy of screaming her head off when Sarah tried to hold her. Some nights around the campfire as all the mothers were trying to get the babies to sleep and someone was strumming a guitar, Mike would hand a sleepy Siobhan off to Sarah and the child wouldn't immediately protest. Once, when Mike gave Siobhan to Sophia so he could answer the call of nature, the baby had turned fretfully until she saw Sarah.

And held out her chubby little arms.

That moment had kept Sarah going for a very long time. While there was no doubt Siobhan preferred Mike, Sarah could see she was quickly becoming the preferred number two. And she would happily take it.

The closer they got to their journey's end, there was a palpable feeling of excitement that built with each day. Now, as they got closer—within three days Mike promised—he would spend a few minutes each night talking about the wonders of the place. He'd describe the moat that encircled the castle and the four crenellated towers that gave it its imposing presence—easily visible from miles away—like a mythical citadel rising out of the mist.

In fact, after more than a week on the road and no more mishaps to mar the experience, Sarah found herself looking forward to at least seeing the castle. Perhaps Mike and Fiona were right. Their futures were before them, not behind. Except for going back to collect John, Sarah was happy to believe that the castle might be a very good place for them to be.

If nobody else was there first.

And if it truly could keep them safe.

By late in the day on the eighth day, Sarah was willing to believe that their main trials were behind them. As she set the brake on the wagon to mark the fact that they were done traveling for the day, she watched the sun descend on the horizon in a glory of reds and yellows. It felt good to go forward, knowing the goal was reachable now. Sophia sat beside her with little Maggie in her lap. Siobhan rode in the back with several other children and two women.

As Mike trotted up on his horse, he appeared to Sarah like he'd lost weight. His face—even in mid-October—was tan. His horse, a steady Percheron crossbreed named Buck, shied at the wagon and Mike sorted him out with annoyance.

“What's his problem?” Sarah asked, frowning. Buck wasn't green and he'd seen everything there was to be afraid of many times over in the last five years.

“They're all edgy today,” Mike said. “Everyone here all right?”

“Of course. Is Gavin out hunting? It's been two days and no meat.”

“He's well aware. Aye, he's out.”

“Will we use the tents tonight? It's getting colder.”

Mike nodded but Sarah knew it cost him. They were so close now that he begrudged the extra time it took to take the tents down in the morning. He probably had it calculated to the quarter hour exactly how much the luxury cost him in figuring his arrival time.

“Kev and Terry are in charge of that. Can you get started on a campfire?”

“Sure.” She gave him a smile. “You know one of the benefits of a tent is the little extra privacy is affords.”

He frowned and then his face cleared as he got her meaning. “Oh, aye?”

“Just saying.”

He grinned and Sarah realized she couldn't remember the last time he looked that gleeful.

The night was the coldest yet but Gavin had been lucky and killed a deer so a festive atmosphere prevailed at both campfires during dinner. The children seemed to pick up on their parents' optimism because there was no crying or whining to dampen the mood.

While he was hunting, Gavin had even found an unexpected spring not far from the campsite and there was talk among the women about visiting it in the morning to do a round of much needed laundry or even take a quick bath.

That night after dinner, as cold as it was, Sarah kept the tent flap open so she could watch the campfire while Mike finished his rounds. He would take one of the watches later in the early morning but for now she waited for him with a very sleepy, contented baby in her arms.

Sarah kissed Siobhan's cheek and the baby yawned, her fight to stay awake being lost by the moment. By the time Sarah tucked Siobhan into her own bed, Mike was stripping off his outer clothes and boots. There were no quips, no comments, no hesitations. They'd never had such a breech between them before and whoever was wrong or right mattered not all to either of them.

“I'm sorry,” Sarah said as she opened her arms to him and felt his strong arms lift her and bring her to him.

“Me, too,” he said, kissing her deeply. “Let's never fight like that again.”

“Deal.”

As Sarah closed her eyes, the comfort and security of her husband solid beside her, his snores a gentle reminder of his presence and his strength, it did flit through her mind that as lovely as it was to be back on track with him, it was a little easier to say
let's don't argue
when
you
were the one who got your way.

T
he next morning
, Mike was gone when Sarah awoke. As she gathered up Siobhan and made her way to the cookfire, she kept an eye out for Fiona and her two little ones. Doing a quick wash up in the spring would make the next two travel days infinitely more bearable and Sarah wasn't going to miss it if she could help it.

When Sarah approached the campfire, the sisters Mary and Liddy were putting together a cold breakfast for the children. The men had already begun taking the tents down. That meant Mike was pushing everyone to hurry, Sarah thought.

“Is no one up for the walk to the spring Gavin found?” she asked.

“Too cold!” Sophia said, bundled up in a shawl and a jacket.

One of the women put her mug of tea down and held her arms open to Sarah. “I'll take the bairn if you're keen, Sarah,” she said.

Sarah hesitated but when Siobhan automatically held her arms out for Jill to take her, that decided it.

“Does nobody else want to come with me?”

Fiona walked up. “Cor, no, you masochist,” she said with a laugh. “But give me a moment and I'll give you one of Ciara's shirts if you don't mind? I've got soap, too.”

“Oh! Sarah, would you mind?” Sophia asked, turning to rummage around in the pile of clothing where her tent used to be.

Sarah grinned.

“Okay, but you'll have to hold Mike back from leaving without me,” she said. “I won't be long.

M
ike grimaced
as he looked at the broken axel on the lead wagon. Kevin said he'd tried to lead the horse backward in it to put on the harness and the fool animal reared and kicked the shite out of the wagon braces holding the axle in place. It was just bad luck the way the horse's hooves had hit which smashed the one part of the wagon besides the wheel that was not negotiable as far as being necessary.

“I don't know what got into her,” Kevin said, holding the halter on the horse. “Mares, you know.”

“She doesn't usually act the maggot,” Mike said, eyeing the animal.

“Not usually,” Kevin said. “T'is true.”

“We'll have to double up. Damn, I hate to.”

“Will we need to leave the load?”

“What do you think? We're stuffed to the gills as it is.”

There was no answer for it and no sense biting Kev's head off. Mike admitted begrudgingly he should be glad they'd had so few problems up to now. Once they were settled, he'd think about coming back and trying to fix the axle. On the other hand, once they were settled, why would they even need the wagon? The whole point was that they wouldn't be on the move again.

It was cold this morning and growing colder every morning. Mike knew he should've started out months ago—in the height of summer—not when autumn was upon them. But he also knew he had to wait for John to go first. As hard as it was to convince Sarah to come, it would've been impossible before September. And then Sophia had the baby…

“Da!”

Mike looked up and felt the weariness settle between his shoulder blades at the sound of his son's voice.

Bloody hell, there better not be another problem…

T
he mist seemed
to come from nowhere. One minute Sarah was walking through a well-lighted patch of gorse in the general direction of the spring Gavin had given her directions to and the next minute she felt like she was on a movie set with clouds of dry ice billowing around her legs.

She held the bag of laundry she'd collected from the others and quickened her steps. She probably didn't have time for more than just a couple of soapy swishes in the spring and maybe a good face washing. She could hear the camp breaking up and it gave her comfort. Not that she was afraid. She carried her dirk and it was broad daylight. Plus, if she could hear the camp, then they would have no trouble hearing her if she needed them.

For the first time in months—maybe even since Siobhan was born—Sarah felt her heart lift. Since nothing else about her life had changed it must be her own determination to take the bull by the proverbial antlers and get a grip.

That's really all you needed to do. Self-talk can defeat you or it can empower you.

That was true back in Jacksonville in the ad agency she'd worked in—with all its jealousies and politics—and it was true in the backwoods of post-apocalyptic Ireland. It was something she would do well to remember.

Sometimes the things that are true are true no matter what.

As she picked her way through the fog, she registered the uptick in her mood. Everything was going to turn out the way it should. They'd find the castle. They'd move in and set up a new community. It would be safe and secure. She and Mike would bring John there and they'd all be together.
Snip snap. And Bob is your uncle.

Her reconnection with Mike last night had been brief and tentative. But it was a start. Sarah knew if she was really going to forgive him for bulldozing her about this whole castle idea, she needed to be open to the new life he envisioned for them there and stop imagining all the ways it could go wrong.

She smiled when she thought of the moment last night when the only sounds in the tent had been the breathing of those she loved most in the world. And then the sting came slowly but surely when she reminded herself that she had no idea where John was breathing. Or even if.

Stop!
The word screamed out in her head as the devastating thought formed. She counted to five and then felt her mood steady out. Thought stopping was a technique she'd learned years ago when negative self-talk had threatened to torpedo her confidence. Eventually, she'd abandoned the practice since taking a pill took so much less effort but as that was no longer an option.

She'd only been walking for a few minutes when the ground began to feel spongy underfoot. She must be close. Just past a thin stand of trees, she saw a narrow ditch clogged with bramble and ferns. Ferns meant water. She picked up her pace and noticed the mist was thickening.