Father.” Actually, no, Father. The mask of composed princess fought the restive, reckless woman who resided deep in Cathy’s heart. Over the last several months something inside her, in her mind and soul and blood, had started to wilt. Frustration built day by day, tour after tour. Granted, she loved the visits, and especially her charity work, but she was exhausted.
Cathy stood up, dropped her silk napkin beside her untouched plate. “I’m very tired. If you’ll excuse me, Father, Fara.”
She barely waited for them to nod. With a grace she was born and bred to, she glided out of the room, into the empty hall and up the stairs, her lavender ball gown swishing against her unsteady legs. Months of supervised, heavily guarded travels, dictated protocol, and hounding press made her need for privacy akin to her need for air. The quiet, albeit temporary, sanctuary of her bedroom sounded like heaven.
But the way to her room was blocked.
“That mane of amber curls and those wide amethyst eyes.”
Perched on the landing stood a portly woman, gnarled with age and garbed in a long tank dress of red and purple, ropes of tangerine beads hanging from her neck. Cathy didn’t recognize her.
“You are every bit as beautiful as I told your mother you’d be, lass.”
Cathy gripped the banister. “You knew my mother?”
“Aye. I knew the late queen.” The woman’s thin lips twisted into a cynical smile. “When you were just a speck in your mother’s belly, I asked Her Royal Highness to allow me to read your future. But she refused my gift. Laughed at me, she did.”
The woman’s anger sat like a spoiled child between them, immobile unless appeased. A strange surge of unease coursed through Cathy. “Who are you?”
The old woman ignored the query. “I gave the king and queen my gift regardless. Aye, I told them that you would be beautiful and kind and clever. I told them that you would be spirited and brave.” Her large brown eyes darkened. “I told them that if they did not take great care of you…”
Cold fingers inched up Cathy’s spine as the woman’s voice trailed off. But she refused to show her fear. She forced on her finest royal countenance and said, “I think you should finish the story.”
The old woman’s yellow smile widened. “I told your father and mother that if they did not take great care, they would lose ye.”
“Lose me?” she exclaimed.
“Aye.”
Deportment all but dropped away. “What are you talking about?”
“Cathy, you up there?”
The call shot between Cathy and the woman, breaking the trance that seemed to hold them both captive. Whirling around, her heart pounding in her chest, Cathy saw Fran coming up the steps, her blond hair bouncing about her shoulders.
“What’s wrong, Cath?” Her sister-in-law’s deep brown eyes were filled with apprehension.
“This woman. She’s—”
Fran cocked her head, glanced past her. “What woman?”
Cathy stilled, her pulse pounding a feverish rhythm in her blood. Slowly, she turned. The woman was gone.
On legs that had gone from unsteady to leaden, Cathy lumbered up the stairs, saying nothing, Fran following closely behind her. Cathy tried not to wonder where the old woman had disappeared to, or if there had been a woman at all. She tried not to think that perhaps she’d gone crazy.
As they entered the bedroom, Fran asked softly, “Are you all right, Cath?”
Cathy sat on her bed, shoulders falling forward. No, she wasn’t all right. She was completely and totally overwhelmed. She turned to Fran and explained, “I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman who’s rarely been alone, rarely known happiness and never known love. I’m so bloody tired of living on other people’s terms.” She searched her new sister’s eyes. “Do you understand what that’s like, Fran?”
Fran sat down beside her, took her hand. “Yes, actually I do. Until I met your brother, I hadn’t lived at all.”
“Why is that, do you think? Were you afraid to live or—”
“I think I was afraid to believe that love existed for me.” A soft smile graced Fran’s mouth, the smile of a woman who now knew differently. “I’d been hurt pretty badly, and I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again. But your brother offered me a second chance.”
Cathy sighed. “I’d like a first chance—to live. I think I deserve one.”
“Of course you do.”
Seven years of thoughts, plans, midnight fantasies and heartfelt hopes danced through Cathy’s brain. Was she brave enough? Weary enough? Desperate enough to grab hold, to take what she wanted?
Perhaps the old woman had come with a warning, not just a story from the past. A warning from her mother and maybe even from Cathy herself, that if she continued on this path, living in unhappiness, not really living at all, she’d truly be lost.
A shadow of apprehension grazed her heart, but she brushed it away. “You’re my sister now, Fran. Can I count on you?”
Fran squeezed her hand. “Just tell me what I can do.”
“Help me pack.”
One
Mosquitoes nibbled on her neck, unseen animals made sounds she didn’t recognize and the package of oatmeal she’d consumed an hour ago sat like a steel plate in her stomach.
But Cathy had never felt happier in her life.
Three days ago, dressed in typical college-backpacking-across-Europe grungewear, armed with a fake passport she’d paid dearly for and an American accent she’d learned to flawlessly imitate during her many years of travel, Cathy had followed through on her seven-year-old plan and left Llandaron for her own tour of the United States.
True to her word, Fran had helped Cathy pack and get to the airport. And as the burden of giving the king his daughter’s runaway note was a great one, Cathy thought it best not to tell her sister-in-law where she was headed.
During the entire flight to New York, Cathy had worried about her father’s reaction. But once she’d arrived in the Big Apple, she’d forced herself to let go of her concerns. Regardless of his anxiety over her whereabouts he would have to understand that in her current state of mind, she was of no use to him or to the people he wanted her to visit.
From New York, she’d taken another flight to Dallas, then another to Denver, then a cab to the hiking company’s office, enjoying her freedom every step of the way.
Her plans for the trip had gone off without a hitch, and she was certain that no one had followed her.
She grinned. She was fairly certain of it anyway.
To her right, the morning sun filtered through a stand of fragrant pine, as though eager to spotlight the needled path
