Chase squinted through the sun-dappled leaves and for one instant, his vision cleared, the flash drawing his gaze. Mother’s ring. God, no. He’d forgotten that he had the bloody thing, thanks to his brother Brandon, who had tricked him into accepting it. It was one of the few things of Mother’s that they had left. And she’d prized it highly.

The rest of his belongings, he could replace. Everything, in fact, but that.

The man lifted the ring to his mouth and bit, then made a disgusted sound. “’Tis not even made o’ real silver. Do ye want it?”

The red-coated man shook his head sullenly. “Not me. I’ve enough worthless trinkets in me pockets as ’tis.”

“And enough rocks in yer head, too.”

The man gave a toothless grin as he tucked a wad of notes into his coat and spat on the ground. “If ’twere a gold piece, I’d be a-fightin’ ye fer it.”

“Ye’d lose.” The larger thief curled his nose. “I don’t want this trinket, neither. Couldn’t get a shillin’ fer it on a Sunday. But ’tis a pretty piece fer all thet. There are carvings on it.”

The red-coated man peered at the ring, but made no move to touch it. After a hushed moment, he asked in an awed voice, “Do ye think ’tis magic?”

“Magic, he asks. Thet’s whot’s wrong wid ye, Davy. Ye’ve got yer head in the clouds.”

“I don’t have me head in the clouds. I just asked if—” Davy clamped his mouth closed when the larger man burst into a guffaw. “Damn ye! Drop the bloody thing right there. It’s nobut a trinket, anyways.”

The other thief chuckled more, then casually tossed the ring to the moss-covered forest floor.

Chase watched, mesmerized as the circlet fell, end over end, sparkling in the lowering sun.

Every sound seemed abnormally loud, every smell overpowering. He watched the ring hit the ground, where it bounced once…twice…each move pinging loudly as if it hit a rock and not the soft, leaf-covered ground.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear his mother’s voice. It’s a mystical ring, Chase. Whoever has it in their possession will meet their true love. As silly as it sounded, she’d really believed it.

Chase, of course, had no such faith in magic. Or anything for that matter. Not anymore.

“Thet’s thet, then,” the large man said, gathering the items and storing them in his large pockets. “Let’s be gone. I’ve a thirst on me, and there’s nothing holdin’ us here.”

“What of the gent?”

“Leave him. As much blood as he’s lost, he won’t make it to nightfall.”

Chase ground his teeth at the thought of dying here in the forest, his face pressed into the blood-soaked mud. By God, he’d live. He’d live if he had to crawl out of the woods on his hands and knees.

The creak of carriage wheels and the soft clop of horses’ hooves lifted on the faint breeze, and Chase’s heart leapt.