The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

he should be thrown off the trail. Walton's the only one who knows where we're going, but he's kept my secrets for years now. I pay him well enough. Have you told anyone?"

"Of course not," Karl said. "Who would I tell? I don't have the slightest idea where we're going anyway."

They saw no evidence of the surly young man in the village, and the stall owner hadn't either, but the detour Loretta found looked like it would barely cost them an hour of travel time. That was easily worth avoiding more trouble with Bill's brother. The horses labored a bit over the steep passes, but they still managed to arrive before full dark.

Her grandmother's tiny stone house was high in the mountains, back in a small valley between two sheer stone faces. The ground was rich and green, with a small garden and a few stunted trees.

A small barn made of the same light stone with weathered timber supports sat close to the house. A copper fence with metal posts surrounded the barn, and a smaller pen inside held various sorts of livestock: chickens, a few sheep and goats, and one rather small horse. She was big enough to carry someone Loretta's size, but she looked like a toy compared to the four huge beasts that had brought them.

"Wait here," Loretta said. "I'll go in and talk to her. I doubt very much she's used to visitors."

"What about the horses?" Karl said, his eyes wide. "I don't have a damned clue how to drive this thing if they decide to take off."

Loretta forced a smile and reached back into the wagon.

"See this handbrake? They'll have a hard time going anywhere until it's released. If you want, you can wait on solid ground."

Karl climbed down fast enough that he almost fell. Loretta sighed and walked up the path.

The house looked even smaller than she remembered after years spent in Waldron's Gate. None of her clients would likely consider it a worthy servants' quarters, much less a house.

Two small chimneys stood at either end, with one spilling pale smoke out into the heavy air. That was one of the things about the Northlands that Loretta did miss: the smell of burning peat mixed with cool, damp air.

She reflexively checked the fuel supply stacked against the house and under the deep eaves of the barn. Helping cut and store the turf had been one of her most-hated jobs as a little girl, but it taught her to take cold weather seriously in a place like this with no gas lines within miles.

More importantly, those long hours taught Loretta how vital it was to keep herself prepared, no matter where she lived.

No one was stirring at the two windows at the front of the house, both covered with cheerful bright lavender curtains. The path to the barn was well worn, probably by Walton in his task of keeping an eye on the place and handling any supplies and deliveries. Otherwise it looked like no other human had set foot here for years.

She knocked on the heavy wooden door, taking care not to touch the metal strips set into the frame or stand on the metal grate. Before ten seconds passed, a small, gray-haired woman stood before her. She wore the same men's work shirt and pants that Loretta was eager to change into.

"Yes?" She smiled brightly, then tears filled her violet eyes. "Loretta? Is that you, my sweet bobbin?"

"It's me, Gemma. I'm here."

Loretta was surprised by the strength of the older woman's hug, especially now that she was into her seventies. Maybe the air in the mountains was as healthy as everyone said.

"I've brought a friend, Gemma, someone who wants to meet you. This is Karl Gilmore. He's from Waldron's Gate."

"Please to meet you, ma'am."

Karl flashed Loretta a puzzled look before he smiled and took Gemma's offered hands.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Karl," Gemma said, beaming. "I'm so glad to see my Loretta not spending all of her time alone anymore. I adored my time in Waldron's Gate, but it was ever so crowded, it was."

This time Karl raised his eyebrows when he glanced at her. He had a point. She did have some questions to answer.

"We have a few things to bring in for you," Loretta said. "Supplies from the village. We'd love to stay with you a day or two if that's all right."

"Of course it is, bobbin," Gemma said. "You don't even have to ask. Just have this strong young man bring it in. I'll get tea ready. I'm afraid I'm all out of honey unless you've brought some with you?"

"I didn't forget, Gemma. We brought jars full."

Chapter 27

Karl did his best to keep his voice down as he and Loretta walked between the wagon and the house, hoping the woman inside wouldn't be near a window. Having to constantly drag his eyes away from Loretta's legs in the thin black pants she'd changed into only made his agitation worse. The brief outline of her shape against the dark fabric was somehow more enticing than her form-fitting leather.

"You should have told me we were visiting your mother, Loretta. Even I'm not thick enough to miss a family resemblance that strong."

"What difference would it have made?" she said. "Besides, she's not my mother. I'll die a happy woman if I never see that bitch again. This is my grandmother, my father's mother. One of the few people in my family worth staying in contact with."

"So we're up here on some kind of social call to your grandmother? Is that it? That would have made a huge damned difference." Karl picked up the heavy box full of jars of honey, reminding himself not to drop it on the ground too hard. He felt like pouring them over Loretta's head, one after the other. "Why did you spin the whole tale about getting your things repaired?"

"It wasn't a tale, Karl. My grandmother did build these things. Not like your family does,