Chapter 131: The Three Travellers

Tessa's POV

The three figures continued across the valley at an unhurried pace.

Each carried a single white flower.

None of them looked toward the farmhouse. Their attention remained fixed on the narrow road ahead, as though they were following directions only they could see.

Gideon joined Miriam at the window.

"I've never seen them before."

Miriam's expression remained thoughtful.

"I don't think they're looking for you."

Renwick had already stepped outside.

"I'll meet them before they reach the gate."

"I'll come with you," Caleb said.

Dylan glanced at Samuel.

"Stay here."

Samuel understood immediately.

"If they recognize me, things could become complicated."

"They might."

Samuel looked at the embroidered cloth still resting in his hands.

"I've spent too many years chasing answers. I can wait a few more minutes."

Dylan gave an approving nod before heading outside with Renwick and Caleb.

The afternoon breeze carried the scent of fresh grass as they crossed the yard.

The travellers slowed when they noticed the three men approaching.

An elderly woman stood at the centre of the group.

Her silver hair was braided neatly beneath a light scarf, and although her clothes were worn from travel, every step she took was steady.

Beside her walked a young man in his twenties carrying a walking stick.

The third traveller, a little girl no older than eight, held her flower with both hands.

She offered Dylan a shy smile.

"We're sorry to arrive without sending word."

The elderly woman spoke with quiet warmth.

"My name is Ruth."

Dylan returned the greeting.

"I'm Dylan."

She glanced toward the farmhouse.

"We were told this would be a safe place."

"Who told you?"

Ruth lowered her eyes.

"A man we met three days ago."

"What was his name?"

"He never gave one."

Caleb exchanged a quick glance with Renwick.

"What did he look like?"

"Tall."

She paused to remember.

"Grey beard."

"He walked with a slight limp."

Gideon stepped forward.

"I don't know anyone matching that description."

"Neither do I," Miriam admitted.

The little girl gently tugged on Ruth's sleeve.

"Can I tell them?"

Ruth smiled.

"Go ahead."

The child looked at Dylan.

"He said we'd find people who still remembered how to choose each other."

The words landed gently, yet they carried familiar weight.

Dylan looked toward Miriam.

She gave the smallest nod.

Whoever the stranger was, he understood far more than an ordinary traveller should.

Anthony and Daniel had wandered onto the porch by the time the visitors entered the yard.

The little girl brightened immediately.

"Hello!"

Anthony waved enthusiastically.

"Hi!"

"My name is Grace."

"I'm Anthony."

Daniel stepped beside him.

"I'm Daniel."

Grace looked relieved.

"I was hoping there would be children."

Anthony smiled.

"There are goats too."

Her eyes widened.

"Really?"

"The friendliest goat steals vegetables."

Daniel laughed.

"That's Daisy."

Grace giggled.

"I already like this place."

Watching the children meet eased something inside me.

Fear had dominated too many days recently.

Simple introductions felt almost extraordinary.

Inside the farmhouse, Ruth accepted a cup of tea from Gideon.

"Thank you."

"You've come a long way."

"We have."

She carefully placed her white flower on the table.

"My husband planted these."

Her fingers rested lightly on the petals.

"He believed flowers reminded people that difficult seasons never lasted forever."

"What happened to him?" Miriam asked gently.

Ruth's smile became wistful.

"He died six winters ago."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

The grief in her voice had softened with time, but it hadn't disappeared.

It probably never would.

Grace wandered over to the window while the adults talked.

Anthony joined her.

"What are you looking at?"

"The trees."

"What about them?"

"My grandfather used to say forests remember footsteps."

Anthony considered that.

"I think my dad would like your grandfather."

Grace smiled.

"I think so too."

Samuel had remained upstairs, keeping his promise to stay out of sight.

As the conversation downstairs continued, he unfolded the embroidered cloth once again.

His thumb traced the faded initials.

A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in."

It was Miriam.

She quietly closed the door behind her.

"I thought you might want some company."

Samuel gave a tired smile.

"I've had enough years alone."

She sat opposite him.

"How are you holding up?"

"I honestly don't know."

He looked down at the cloth.

"Part of me wants to believe Eliza left this."

"And the other part?"

"It remembers the chapel."

Miriam nodded.

"Hope and caution can exist together."

"I hope you're right."

"I've seen people survive because they learned the difference."

Samuel looked toward the window.

"I don't want longing to make my decisions anymore."

"It won't."

She smiled kindly.

"Not while you have people willing to question your hopes alongside you."

Those words lingered with him.

For the first time in years, he realised he wasn't carrying the burden by himself.

A sharp whistle echoed from outside.

Not the haunting call they had heard in the forest.

This one was short.

Practical.

Renwick's signal.

Dylan stepped onto the porch immediately.

"What is it?"

Renwick pointed toward the road leading away from the farm.

"There are fresh wagon tracks."

"Were they there earlier?"

"No."

Caleb crouched beside the wheel marks.

"The soil is still loose."

"They passed recently."

"How many wagons?" Dylan asked.

"Just one."

He followed the tracks with his eyes until they disappeared over a distant rise.

Grace walked onto the porch beside Anthony.

She studied the road for a moment before speaking.

"We saw that wagon yesterday."

Every adult turned toward her.

Ruth looked surprised.

"You remember?"

Grace nodded confidently.

"The man driving it stopped to ask if we'd seen a little boy."

Anthony's smile vanished.

"What little boy?"

Grace looked directly at Dylan.

"He said..."

Her voice became quieter.

"...the child's name was Anthony."

The breeze continued across the fields, rustling the grass around the farmhouse.

Dylan's expression hardened.

Until now, the Voice had been trying to separate families.

Someone had just revealed a far more dangerous intention.

They weren't waiting for Anthony to wander into the forest anymore.

They were looking for him.