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gather her children for their lessons. She’d then bring them with her to Caleb’s place.

They made for excellent chaperones those little ones. Not that anyone seemed to mind that she was spending time at Caleb’s cottage. Her father had been surprisingly lax in ensuring that Hattie or her maid went with her, although one or both usually stopped by while she was there.

It was almost as though her father trusted him.

She definitely did. The thought stuck with her in a way that was not quite pleasant. What did it mean that she trusted a man who she knew so little? What did it mean that he’d stayed?

What did it mean that she looked forward to her daily visits to him more than anything else in the world?

And lastly, what did it mean that she was dreading saying goodbye?

Her stomach twisted at the thought of leaving, even more so when she tried to imagine this new life in London. But that all paled to this desperate sensation that made her feel shaky and weak when she thought of saying goodbye to her new friend.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly ran right into Polly, who was hovering at the edge of the path that led into town. “Polly, dear? Did you come to walk with me?”

Polly nodded, all sweet and toothless smiles as she took Abigail’s hand. “That man told me to find you,” she said.

“What man?” She looked down at the little girl whose parents ran the mercantile. Her mother was expecting another child and by the size of her she would have another daughter or son any day now. “Do you mean Caleb?”

Polly shook her head and pointed into the trees. “That other man. The one who was sweet on your sister.”

“Min?” As she said it, her mind raced. Her first thought was Marcus, but of course that made no sense. “Roger,” she breathed.

The girl nodded eagerly. “That was his name. He told me to fetch you.” She held out her palm, a small coin lodged there. “He gave me this.”

Abigail’s heart pounded wildly. “Where was he, Polly?”

Polly pointed into the thicket of trees. “By Mr. Arnold’s old shed.”

Her heart was pounding so fiercely now she could barely hear Polly’s words. The old shed. A dilapidated old structure deep in the woods that was the only thing to survive the Arnold’s house fire years before. Mr. Arnold had moved into town, but the shed remained.

She stood frozen for a moment. “He sent you to fetch me?” she asked.

Polly nodded, her eyes wide and serious. “You and only you.” The way she said it made it sound as though she were repeating something she’d memorized.

“What else did he say?”

Polly shrugged. “Not much. Just that you’d want to see him. That you’d know better than to tell your father.” Her face screwed up as she thought. “That’s it.”

Abigail nodded. She doubted the little girl had any idea that she was passing along barely veiled threats. Forcing a reassuring smile, she squatted so her face was level with Polly’s. “Dear, I need you to listen very carefully. Can you do that?”

The girl nodded.

“Go straight to Caleb. Don’t wait for the others and don’t dally, understand?”

Polly nodded again.

“You tell him exactly what you told me.”

“But the man said—”

Abigail arched a brow and Polly instantly grew silent. “I need you to do as I say, Polly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave the girl a quick hug and sent her off. “Be sure to tell Caleb everything.” She waved when the girl turned back. “He’ll know what to do.”

She hoped.

Heaven knew she had no idea what she was doing, but she wasn’t about to let Roger escape. Not again. Not if she could stop him.

Turning to face the woods she drew in one deep breath, said a little prayer for Minerva’s strength, and headed into the woods.

Chapter 8

Caleb stared down at the face of a little angel and tried not to roar with frustration. “What do you mean, she went?”

Polly’s eyes were wide and the other children were starting to arrive. “Where’s Miss Abigail?” he heard one of them ask.

He shook his head, ignoring them. The fate of the world rested on the shoulders of this tiny little thing. He bent down so he was on one knee and used the gentlest voice he could summon. “Tell me everything she said, Polly. Don’t leave anything out.”

Even hearing it for a second time didn’t help. If anything it made his panic and his anger surge beyond his control. What had Abigail been thinking, heading off to meet him on her own?

He spun away from Polly with a curse and a growl that had Nicholas and some of the others gathering around. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

“It had better be,” he muttered as he gathered his things. Weapons he’d thought he’d never need to carry again were slid into place as he barked out orders for Nicholas to keep an eye on the others. He gave the boy his watch. “If you don’t see or hear from me within the half hour, you go to the fort. You get the captain and tell him to send his best men to the old Arnolds’ shed. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

For the first time in his life, Caleb wavered. Should he send for the captain now? Or would too many noisy officers swarming the woods send Roger into a panic.

Anger and adrenaline had his heart pounding as he ran toward the edge of the woods. He’d never forget the fear in Roger’s eyes that night. The blind panic as he’d held a knife to Abigail’s neck.

No. He couldn’t risk Roger panicking. Not again.

But that day in the cave...she hadn’t panicked. Abigail had been frightened, but she hadn’t succumbed to fear. She’d kept a clear head. That realization helped him clear his head now. Abigail might not seek out adventure like her sister Minerva, but when faced with danger, she’d been brave.

His brave, kind Abigail.

This time he didn’t even

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