Free Falling by Susan Kiernan-Lewis Page A

to enjoy the meal. Even John looked worried.
    “Do you think something happened to him on the road?” he asked.
    “I’m sure Dierdre and Seamus just needed him tonight,” she said, not at all sure.
    “It’s just that it’s not like Dierdre to keep him two nights in a row,” he said. He walked to the front door and looked out at the road. “They know we need him, too.”
    Sarah knew he was right. Dierdre would insist that David come home tonight.
    “He’s been this late before,” she said.
    “No, he hasn’t. Not ever.”
    “I’m sure he’s fine.”
    “Based on what?”
    “John, did you do last check on the animals?”
    He turned back to her. “Not yet,” he said.
    “Well, why don’t you? I’ll clean up here and we’ll play a game of chess before bed.”
    “You’re terrible at chess,” he said, shrugging into his coat.
    “Well, you can read a book at the same time,” she said with a grin.
    He left the dogs with her. As docile as the puppies were, they were still too undisciplined to be around the horses for long without having to dodge a well-deserved kick.
    Sarah now went to the front door herself, as if watching would make David come, then turned and put away the roast chicken and leftover potatoes. Even without electricity, the refrigerator served as a fairly successful icebox, better at least than leaving food sitting out on the counter. They kept milk bottles parked out on the porch all night but meat couldn’t be left out without attracting animals. She wiped down the counters and wrapped the biscuits in wax paper to put them away for their breakfast.
    It occurred to her that she had stopped taking her anti-anxiety medicine weeks ago. Funny. She had dreaded the day when she would take her last pill. Probably got more worked up about that than was rational. And then, things got so busy, she actually forgot to take them. She must have a week’s supply left in her suitcase. The real shocker was that, as relentlessly afraid as she was these days—for herself, for her husband and son, and for her parents back in the States—Sarah realized she didn’t feel that different without the pills. The thought stopped her. How could that be? she wondered.
    All at once, both dogs stopped playing with the rag they had been tugging on. They stood in the kitchen, the hackles on their backs rising, slow menacing growls emanating from them.
    Sarah’s hand froze as she was wrapping the biscuits and stared at the dogs.
    In the next second, a horse’s terrified scream punched the air outside the cottage. Sarah dropped the biscuits and bolted for the front door and the source of the noise.
    It was coming from the barn.
     

 
    CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
                Three men stood with their backs to her in the courtyard between the house and the barn facing the barn front. One boy, her own child, stood between them and the barn. One of the horses in the barn screamed again. Sarah could barely hear what the men were saying over the pounding in her own ears and the sounds of the horse. As she approached, she saw John’s eyes flick to her and then back at them, but it was enough to alert the men. They turned, almost as one. As soon as they turned, John disappeared into the barn.
                She stood with the rifle to her shoulder and aimed at them.
                “We’re just hungry, missus,”
                Three men, two rounds , she thought. No warning shots .
                “Leave us,” she said hoarsely. “Go away.”
                They looked like what she would expect men to look like who’d roamed the countryside, slept in ditches and stolen or killed to keep themselves fed. They looked dangerous, desperate and aggressive. Their faces were filthy and bearded, their eyes glazed. One took a step toward her and she shifted her aim toward him.
                “Give us the horses and we’ll let you be,” the man behind him said.