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place her in front of him on his mount. Fearing Demon was being left behind in the haste to put distance between them and the search party, Morgan glanced back checking to be sure he was behind them. Losing him would leave her completely at Nic's mercy.  Nic saw her movements and understood her concern. The animal was her freedom.
    “He is still with us,” Nic reassured her.
    Quickening the pace, Nic turned them around, doubling back on their previous path. It would cost them valuable time. Nevertheless, the action was necessary if he was going to successfully skirt the men set on taking Morgan back to a place she obviously did not want or need to be.
    Veering off the road and moving into the woods, Nic followed the stream running parallel to the road that he'd heard earlier. It seemed the most prudent action since pushing forward was not an option.
    It was nearing dark when he found a an ideal grove of trees to make camp for the night. Fate was still feeling generous, he thought.
    Morgan quickly decided it was in her best interest to follow his lead without question. Nic counted his blessings. He needed to be free of distraction if he were to keep them alive. At this point, he did not look or smell any better then she did and could quite easily be misconstrued as her kidnapper.
    Again, Nic doubted his decision to travel alone and without backup. His friend Connor had almost insisted he join him, but he'd refused. And now Connor wasn't with them, and Nic would have to make due, and prayed his cockiness did not cost Morgan her life.
    He dismounted. Pulling Morgan down after him, he spoke quietly knowing voices carry on the wind.
    “See to the horses. I’ll make camp.”
    Morgan nodded. She had some idea of what to do. The rest she would muddle through. She figured acting like she knew what she was doing was half the battle won.
    Nic did not waste energy or time gathering firewood. There would not be a fire tonight, he thought. That firelight and smell might draw attention they did not need.
    “I have cold meat, cheese, and bread in the right side of the saddlebag. Bring it once you water and feed the mounts.”
    Morgan looked around and tentatively touched his sleeve to gain his attention. She looked up into his eyes, smiled and nodded in approval of the spot he chose for them to pass the night. Nic felt his toes curl at the transformation to her face.
    Good Lord, he thought. If she flashed that dimpled smile at the wrong time, they would be in big trouble. There wasn't a soul who would not see through her disguise.
    “Morgan, go tend our horses. The hour grows late.” Not waiting for her answer, Nic turned her in the direction of the stream .
    Standing at the edge of the stream, Morgan wholeheartedly agreed with his choice. To her untrained eye, the area was beautiful. To Nic it was simply the most defensible fortification he could find on short notice.
    After flaying around in the bog, she needed a bath, but settled for washing what muck she could off her arms and face without getting in the water. The full immersion would have to wait. The horses came first.
    As directed, she began to gather the tall grass from around the stream, surveying her surrounding as she went. Just because she could not bathe, did not mean she could not appreciate the beauty around her. It was a lovely spot. The clear water was gently running, bubbling and soothing as the last of the birds began seeking their roosts for the night. The trees seemed enchanted and gave her a sense of wonder, as she had never seen trees so large with their canopies reaching heavenward, and trunks so wide it would take four grown men, arms wide to surround them. It was an ancient place, an enchanted place and she wanted to stay here forever.
    Turning in circles Morgan tossed her head back, spreading her arms wide as if trying to touch the tree tops. Laughing for the first time in ages, she fell dizzy to the ground.
    Nic watched her from a safe