Free Dark Angel by Tracy Grant Page A

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    Word of Caroline's departure had spread and a number of villagers were gathered in front of the tavern to see her off. Feeling very much an outsider, Adam stood a little apart while Caroline said goodbye to each one in turn. The children resumed their game in the wider space of the square. When she had spoken with the last of the villagers, Caroline called Emily to her side. Emily, shouting happily a few moments before, went suddenly still. Solemn faced, she walked over to her mother, followed by the Soro children. Beatriz ran forward and flung her arms round Caroline's knees. Caroline bent down and kissed her, then embraced the other children. Finally she turned to Adela. "I'll write," she said, hugging her friend. "Father Javier can read the letters to you."
    Adela nodded, her eyes bright. Caroline kissed the baby on the forehead, reached for Emily's hand, and turned toward Adam. The villagers looked on in silence. The Soro children, solemn like Emily, clustered about their mother. A chicken that had escaped the French hopped about the periphery of the square. Somewhere in the village a burro brayed and a man shouted. The wind came up, rattling the broken door of the tavern.
    Adam met Caroline's gaze. He had won his first objective. She was coming with him. Two hundred miles and a month of travel lay ahead of them. A month of avoiding the French and crossing uncertain terrain and negotiating the equally treacherous ground of their past. It might well prove to be the most difficult month he had ever spent.
    "Are you ready to go?" he asked.
    Caroline nodded.
     

Chapter Four
    They walked in silence down the winding street. When they had passed the last straggling cottage, Caroline stopped and looked back at the village where she had spent the most important months of her life. Even at this short distance the houses had grown mean and insignificant. The stone church at the top of the hill seemed diminished too, and the graveyard beyond—Who would remember Jared now? There were moments when she could scarce recall his face, moments when she was terrified by how easy it was to forget.
    She would forget Acquera too, and the knowledge brought with it an unbearable sense of loss. She had known privations here that would once have been beyond her imagining, but she had also known kindness and friendship. No one cared that she was a Staffordshire squire's daughter or that her husband was the son of an English peer. She was la Inglesa, the ousider, but in the end even those who would not be her friends had given her their respect.
    Emily was watching her mother with solemn eyes. "Will we come back?" she said.
    Caroline knew it would be easy to make a promise she might never be able to keep, but Emily had learned to live with uncertainty. "I don't know," Caroline said, tightening her hold on her daughter's hand. Adam was waiting for them several yards ahead, and Caroline hurried to close the gap between them.
    His face was harsh, but there was sympathy in his eyes and it nearly undid her. Caroline felt tears sting her eyelids and hurried on ahead, unwilling to let him see her face, She might never see Adela again. She would never go to the well for water and listen to the gossip of the women, nor kick open the wooden door of the village oven to insert the tray holding the bread she had shaped herself, nor slip into the back of the church, unwilling to intrude but eager for the comfort of the unfamiliar ritual.
    On the other hand, when she reached Lisbon she would have the luxury of a bath. The thought came unbidden and Caroline recognized the pull of the two worlds. She looked at her daugh 7utyter, but Emily's face showed no sign of regret. Emily lived in the present and Caroline would do well to follow her example. There would be time later to mourn what she had left in Acquera.
    The path had grown steeper, winding down between slabs of sharp-pointed rocks higher than her head. No trees softened the harsh landscape, only