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pig into the
open.  “Son, does your haggard appearance have more to do with Reece Mullins,
or the girl I found in your bed?”
    “Both,” he
shouted, without pausing to face her.
    Laura was
certain that her statement would have at least broken his stride.  Stepping
next to the sideboard, she placed her hand on his shoulder.  “You explained the
situation with Reece.  Now, I’d like to hear the details about the young lady.”
    “What do you
want to know?”
    “To begin
with, if she is in your bed, may I ask, where did you sleep last night?”
    He sat back on
his heels and shook his head.  “I haven’t been to sleep.”  Closing the drawer,
he moved to the cabinet.
    “What are you looking for?” she asked.  Talking to the back of his head was wearing a bit
thin.
    “More salve. 
I used the last of the container last night.  I was certain there was a second
pot down here.”
    “Salve?” she
echoed.  She ran a motherly eye over his body.  Other than a rumpled
appearance, he seemed to be unscathed.  Regardless of what had happened last
night, he wa. . .  She paused while Grayson’s words swirled in her mind.  The
nouns looked for the proper placement in her logic.  Girl…salve…Reece Mullins. 
Laura’s stomach fell to her feet and she closed her eyes.  She thought back to
her discovery of the girl.  The face under the blond hair had been turned away
from the window.  Laura shuddered, nearly dropping her cup and saucer to the
floor.  She knew as well as Grayson did that a person’s gender would not
prevent Reece Mullins from striking them.
    Grayson closed
the cabinet door and stared at his mother.  A blue-gray ice wrapped her in an
eerily familiar fog.  “Did you get a good look at the girl, mother?” he asked.
    “No.  She
seemed to be sound asleep when I saw her.”  Laura pointed to the wall behind
him.  “Did you look in the pantry behind the apple butter?  I think there’s a
small pot of salve in there.”
    Grayson
disappeared behind the curtain covering the pantry doorway. 
    “Son, did
Reece…”
    “I don’t
know.  She didn’t say,” he answered, cutting off her question.  Neither of them
wanted to hear the words aloud.  He reappeared from the storage closet, a
ceramic jar clutched in his hand.  “When she collapsed on our steps, she was
next to dead.  Reece and his hounds were right behind her.  From the condition
of her wounds, she must have led them on some chase.”
    “Do you know
anything about her?” 
    “From what I
was told in town, she is Reece’s fiancée.” 
    “His fiancée? 
I wasn’t aware he was betrothed.”  Laura took the salve from his hands.  “If
the girl is his intended, she can’t stay here.”
    Grayson moved
to the stove, levered open the fire box, and tossed a chuck of wood in among
the flames.  Grabbing the stoker, he poked the log, pushing it to the middle of
the raging embers and then closed the door.  Returning the stoker to its hook
on the side of the oven, he lowered a large copper pot from the shelf above the
stove.  “Where else is she to go, mother?  Back to a man who will surely kill
her at his earliest opportunity?” 
    Laura touched
her hand to his arm.  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “but this woman
is not Daria.  You have no claims on her, but if she is his fiancée, Reece
does.  The law will be on his side.  You know that.  Reece will bring the
magistrate here and force that girl to return to him.  You will not be able to
save her.”
    “Reece had no
claims on Daria, but that didn’t stop him?”  He shouted, slamming his fist on
the counter.  Hitting the edge of the saucer, the teacup flew off the counter
and shattered on the floor.  He stood amidst the broken pieces.  “What else am
I to do?  You know what will happen to her if she returns to him.  Besides,” he
shrugged, “Reece won’t report anything to the magistrate immediately.  He will
give her time to heal.