Stung by Sir Edward's words, Robin roamed the forest alone, oblivious to the rain beating down on him.

Give Marian up? He thought he already had! She certainly thought so!

Robin knew it was impossible for them to be to seen together, without exposing her to the risk of the hangman's noose. He stayed away from her as much as he thought humanly possible, until something within him drove him to her house, and only then when he was absolutely certain he wouldn't be detected. In fact, Marian sometimes made snide comments about him only showing himself when he wanted something, not understanding how difficult it was on him, keeping away.

But now, at her father's demand, he was ordered to keep away completely.

But what about when she came to him?

Robin knew he needed her, not admitting to himself he needed her for more than just the information she fed his gang. And without that, how could they possibly hope to defeat the sheriff?

He was miserable, but refused to allow himself to be. The remedy? The best one he knew. He would take food to the poor, and put his troubles out of his mind.

...

Sneaking into Nottingham wasn't really too much different from the scouting missions he had gone on in the Holy Land. Both required stealth, and trickery, and nerves of steel. Such a dangerous, challenging adventure went a long way to cheering up the outlaw.

Disguised as a pedlar with food instead of wares weighing down his pack, Robin was ushered into Sarah's house, where little Jess washed the rest of his cares away by hugging him hard.

Robin didn't want to admit to himself why he'd come specifically to this house first. Lying to himself, he was convinced it had nothing to do with Sarah's previous position in Knighton Hall as Marian's cook. No. Sarah was a widow, the sole provider for her own and her child's needs. Jess was hungry, growing as she was.

"Thank you, Robin!" Sarah gushed, when he unloaded his pack in her house.

"Well, you fed me often enough," he told her, remembering all the meals he had eaten at Knighton. "Seems only fair."

"Those were happy days," she said, her eyes filled with pity.

Dangerously close to tears, Robin changed the subject. "I'm counting on you to share some of this with your neighbors," he told her. "The fewer people who see me, the better."

"Of course!"

"Are you and Jess alright?"

At Sarah's invitation, he sat down, and was delighted when Jess climbed onto his lap.

"It was hard," the mother admitted, "when Sir Edward was forced from his position, and had to cut back his staff. But Jess and I are making it, thanks to you and the Nightwatchman's help."

Robin's heart pounded, at the mention of the Nightwatchman.

"You cook in the castle now, right? You must be able to feed Jess that way."

Sarah shook her head. "The sheriff feeds his birds better than what we eat. Any one caught taking scraps from the castle kitchens loses a hand."

"Why am I not surprised?" Robin fumed, seething. Lightening his mood, he boasted, "Well, you'll eat well tonight, anyway! But I'd better go, in case anyone questions what a pedlar's doing so long in a widow's house."

He winked, making Sarah scold him. "None of your cheeky impudence in front of my Jess," she said, with mock severity.

"Do you have to go?" Jess asked him, sadly.

"It's not safe for you or your mother if I stay," he explained.

But then, unexpectantly, all three realized it wasn't safe now.

A fist was pounding on the door. A deep voice was shouting, "Open up, in the name of the sheriff!"

"Gisbourne!" Robin breathed, reaching for his bow.

"Robin, what should we do?" Sarah asked, frightened.

"Is there a back door?"

"No. There's a window at the back of the house. But it's upstairs. It's too far a drop to the street."

Outside in the street, Gisbourne's voice was bellowing, "Come out, Hood! I know you're in there! Some of my men saw you!"

"There's a window in the front, too, upstairs, yes?" Robin asked, thinking quickly.

He knew he couldn't simply try to get away. That would be a death sentence to Jess and Sarah, for conspiring with outlaws.

But his cleverness didn't fail him. He had a plan. Well, half a plan. It would have to do for now.