Sweet Bea by Sarah Hegger Page A

good thing the horse was sweet tempered. Badger would have had Garrett off by now.
    They moved inland. A low line of hills hid the sea and meadows dotted with the yellow, pink, and red of wildflowers stretched beneath the heavy sky.
    Tom’s silence weighed heavier at her back. She hadn’t heard the end of the money. And Tom didn’t even know the full story.
    Low, stone walls carved allotments in the landscape. The summer crops were good this year. There would be food for the winter if the harvest yielded this promise.
    Those women wouldn’t starve whatever the harvest, because she’d given them instructions to Anglesea. Her mother and Nurse would see those poor souls fed. Those who wanted to stay would be welcomed.
    Tom would shout the birds out of the trees if he knew. By sending the women to Anglesea, she’d almost drawn her family a map to find her.
    She didn’t care, however. Those children were starving and the women nigh desperate.
    It was done.
    The storm Garrett spoke of gathered behind a smear of purple mountains against the horizon.
    Garrett made a more interesting view. His back was much broader than Tom’s. She’d had her arms around his hard body. A tiny tendril of heat snaked through her. Garrett had held her in his lovely, strong arms. Could arms be lovely? But his chest and the march of ridges across his belly had definitely been beautiful. She’d like to see more of those. She lingered over the interesting swells of muscle beneath his tunic. Beads of perspiration formed beneath her tunic and slithered between her breasts. The air was terribly sultry and close. Nurse would pin her by the ears for her wanton thoughts. Best to think of something else. “Do you have any brothers and sisters?”
    “Nay.” Garrett’s spine stiffened.
    That was not an answer. This mystery around him irked her. “You do not speak much of family or where you came from.”
    “Mayhap because I have not many happy stories to tell.”
    “I beg your pardon.” Beatrice bit her tongue until she flinched. Nurse always told her to watch her tongue and here it had led her into trouble again.
    “No need, sweeting.” He turned. “Mayhap it is because the last thing on my mind is talking, when you are near.”
    “Oh, Garrett.” She giggled.
    He grinned at her.
    She did this a lot with Garrett. He appeared to enjoy making her giggle, which was partly why she did it when he was around. She didn’t usually giggle. Giggling women were annoying. Which brought another thing to mind about Garrett. He was changeable. One moment terse and angry and the very next smiling wickedly enough to make her forget all reason. And when she questioned him, he was always quick to deflect her with charm and an easy smile.
    “There is a crossroads up ahead,” Tom said from behind them.
    “Aye.” Garrett and Parsley plodded forward.
    “I spoke to one of the oldsters last night.” Tom came up beside her.
    “Indeed,” Garrett drawled. “Were you actually speaking to a thief? Good Lord, Tom, what will become of you?”
    Beatrice giggled and choked off the ridiculous sound.
    Tom threw her a hard look. Perspiration darkened his blond hair to brown around his face.
    She shouldn’t laugh at him, but Tom needed a prod every now and then. He was solid and dependable, like pottage for breakfast.
    “He said we should follow the left fork if we want to reach London.” Color stained Tom’s neck and cheeks.
    Garrett stopped and turned in the saddle. He pursed his lips as if considering whether to take him up on the challenge or not.
    Tom looked thunderous.
    Garrett stared back at him.
    The air crackled between them.
    Beatrice’s belly fluttered. “Then we shall take the left fork.” They mustn’t fight. Garrett was bigger, and Tom might get hurt. She was in love with Garrett, but Tom was her best friend. And she might never get to London if they came to blows.
    The men remained locked in their staring battle.
    It all seemed a bit pointless to her