Joanne had arrived not long after the men had left. Her sister’s face had been brutalized by her husband, and she had run away in the night to return home to her father.
But all concern for her sister vanished as she saw her husband draped over his horse.
Emily felt the blood drain from her face as terror consumed her. But even worse than the site of Draven, was the fact her father refused to meet her gaze.
“Oh, God, nay,” she choked.
Simon and her father pulled Draven from the horse and carried him toward her.
“Move, Em,” her father snapped. “We needs get him inside before he dies.”
She closed her eyes in relief. “He’s not dead?”
“Nay, child,” her father said in a more tender voice. “Now move.”
Still trembling, she opened the door for them, offered a prayer of thanks, then followed them up the stairs.
Hours later, Emily sat beside Draven on the bed. He had only just awakened.
“You scared me,” she scolded him.
His look bore into her. “I scared myself.”
“How do you mean?”
He reached out and took her hand in his. “Until today, I never cared in battle whether or not I lived. Today, I learned that now I care. When I hit the ground, my only thoughts were of you and of the babe. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to return here to see you. I wanted to be here to see our babe born.”
She cupped his cheek in her hand. “I love you, Draven.”
“And I love you.”
The door to the room opened. Emily looked up to see her father hesitating in the doorway.
Never before had she seen him look uncertain.
“Father?” she asked.
He cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “I didn’t expect you to be awake,” he said to Draven.
“Haven’t you ever heard the devil never sleeps?”
She saw the shame in her father’s eyes as he approached the bed. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
Draven frowned. “Make what easy on you?”
“My apology.”
Emily sat in shock. Her father had never apologized to anyone in his life.
“I’m a prideful man. I admit that, but I’m not so prideful that I can’t admit when I’m wrong. I was terribly wrong about you, boy, and I’m sorry for it.” Her father swallowed. “All I can say in my defense is that I knew your father well, and I know I don’t have to tell what kind of man he was.” He met Draven’s gaze levelly. “I don’t know why you saved my life today. I wouldn’t have done it for you.”
“I wouldn’t have expected you to.”
Her father nodded. “I think that might be the most painful part of all this. But I want you to know that had I been blessed with son, I would want him to be just like you.”
Draven gave a bitter laugh. “Then you should be grateful you had daughters. If you recall, I killed my father.”
Her father’s gaze gentled. “And today you saved his life. For whether you acknowledge me or not, from this day forward I will always claim you as my son.”
