It was past dawn when Rafe found the homestead. He was exhausted, running on sheer will, and ready to collapse. The boy had shown surprising fortitude, following doggedly behind. The rain had stopped, but they were all soaked to the skin.
Delilah was awake—he had sensed the change in her rhythms—but pretending otherwise. He remembered how she had tried to persuade the old woman that she was slow and confused, but the ploy wouldn’t work any better on him.
He’d put an end to that game in a hurry.
But first, they needed shelter. They needed to take a break, find some clothing, get something to eat. Hiding in the forest made them easy prey for dogs and hunters.
Rafe stopped at the perimeter of the forest, putting back a hand to keep Ferris from stumbling into the clearing ahead. The boy ha
