Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“You’re going to see if the culprit still lingers about. I had the same thought.” The worry grew in her eyes. “You will take care.”
“Is that an order, wife?’ he asked with a teasing grin.
“Aye, it is and you’ll obey if you know what’s good for you,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes that seemed relieved to share a light moment with him.
He folded his arms across his chest. “And what’s my reward for this obedience?”
The twinkle left her eyes replaced by a loving softness he feared he could drown in.
“Welcome arms, a warm hug, and a kiss,” she said, a reward she would favor herself.
He was speechless for a moment, then he leaned down to bring his face close to hers and said, “For such a fine reward I would battle the devil himself.” He brushed his lips over hers, then grabbed his cloak off the chair, and turned when he reached the door and returned to her, pulling his dagger from its sheath at his waist as he did. “If it’s the devil who walks through that door and not me, use this on him.”
Willow took it, nodded, and sent a silent prayer to the heavens as he closed the door behind him that she wouldn’t have to battle the devil today.
She returned her attention to Sara and wondered about the woman. Why did she live so isolated from family? Why didn’t she make her home with her grandson? Could she be hiding from something or someone? If she was, Slatter certainly wouldn’t have had knowledge of it, since he would have seen to the matter post haste.
Willow shook her head. Sometimes she cursed the way her mind worked, always looking for reason, always trying to make sense of things. She wished she could let some things be, not question or probe to find a reason behind it, not be practical.
A smile hurried to spread across her face. She certainly hadn’t been practical when she chose to stay with Slatter rather than go with Tarass’s warriors, though she tried to convince herself otherwise. She questioned it at times, but hadn’t regretted it.
The problem now was that the more time she spent with her husband, the more time she wanted to spend with him. A dread filled her when she thought of them parting, of never seeing him again, and yet, what other recourse was there for them? And what of how easily he lied? How could she spend her life with a man whose tongue she constantly questioned?
So many hurdles for them to cross, perhaps too many.
With her smile gone, she returned to working on Sara, applying more snow as it began to melt. She was relieved when the snow chased the fever. But how long it would keep it at bay, she didn’t know.
It wasn’t long before she was pacing the floor in front of the fireplace, wondering what was keeping Slatter. Had he run into the culprit? Could he be in trouble? Or was it worry that had her thinking he’d been gone longer than he truly had been?
What if something happened to him? What would she do? How would she get Sara to safety? She shook her head. There was no point wasting worry on something that had yet to happen. Besides, having seen how skillful a warrior her husband was there was no reason for her to think something bad may have happened to him.
Unfortunately, that did not stop her worries. They lingered, poking and pricking at her like the thorny bush she had gotten caught in while hiding from the battle that had started this adventure.
A moan drew her attention and she went to Sara’s side and saw that she shivered. It could be from the snow or the fever could be working its way through her. She decided to see if she could get some soup into the woman.
She filled a wooden bowl with the hot liquid and after grabbing a wooden spoon, she went and sat beside Sara. She was careful to let each spoonful cool some before gently placing it at her lips to dribble in. Once Sara tasted it, she lapped at it eagerly. A good sign that brought a smile to Willow’s face.
She was just wiping at Sara’s face when she heard someone at the door. She hurried to exchange the bowl for the dagger on the table all the while praying for it to be Slatter who walked through the door.
The door swung open and for a moment, she wasn’t sure who stood there. The hood of the dark cloak was pulled too far down for her to see the person’s face and the cloak was covered with snow.
The hood was suddenly tossed back and Willow’s hand fell away from the dagger with relief.
“The snowfall makes it impossible to see much and covers whatever tracks there might have been,” Slatter said, after closing the door and was quick to shed his cloak and hang it on the peg in the wall. He went straight to the fire, stretching his hands out to warm them. “How does my grandmother do?”