“That’s not funny.”
“Jenny and her father offered help and I took it. If you think that was wrong, so be it. But it saved your life.”
Saved his life. Disgust filled him. He was supposed to be a great knight, but apparently the only thing he was capable of saving was a child’s cat. Not Nessa. Not his mother. He looked away from her. He hadn’t thought of his mother in a very long time. The only similarity between Nessa and his mother was that he couldn’t save either one. He heard his mother’s cries in his mind and pushed them aside. She had been alone. Nessa had been alone and scared, too. Nessa was not his mother; she didn’t need rescuing. He looked at her again. She hadn’t curled up in a ball and died as other noble women would have done. She was strong, and bright. He’d always thought she was intelligent. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, insult her. “You did good, Nessa. I didn’t mean to imply anything else.”
Nessa nodded, but looked down, shielding those large eyes from him. When she glanced at him again, a wall had been erected. She had closed him off. He’d never seen her do that before. Others, yes. But not Nessa. “I had to keep you safe for Mel.”
A strange silence settled in the barn. If Luke didn’t know better, he would have sworn the animals had gasped. Mel. Yes, Mel. His intended bride. Her sister. Of course, she was doing all this for her. Not for him. Not for herself. Luke was surprised at the disappointment settling in his stomach like a heavy rock.
“I should check your wound.”
“I can do it,” Luke protested.
Nessa grinned, but ignored him. “Turn onto your side.”
Luke followed her instructions, rolling onto his side. She eased the blanket down over his hip. There was something sensual in the movement and he was glad he was on his side as his manhood twitched. She peeled away the cloth covering his wound. It pulled slightly and he stiffened as the cloth stuck to his injury. “Stay there.”
She left the stall, disappearing into the darkness of the barn. A cold chill settled over his body as he waited for her return. A light suddenly shone just out of his sight. After a moment, the light came closer and he saw Nessa carrying a torch and some cloth in her hand, as well as a bowl. She put the torch into a small notch in the wood and knelt beside him.
“Aren’t you worried the straw will catch fire?”
“Do you think me a dim wit? Godwin and I spoke of it. That’s why there’s no straw below the torch. He notched out the wooden plank so I could use the torch if I had to.”
He nodded, satisfied with the answer. He looked at his cut. His skin was swollen and red around the darkened cut. Dark lines crisscrossed it. It had been stitched closed. There was also some sort of drying yellowish poultice on the wound. “What is that?”
“Godwin takes care of his animals in an unusual fashion. If they are bleeding heavily, he thinks it wiser and less dangerous to stitch them, much the same way we embroider clothing.” Nessa began to smear on some of the yellowish salve from the bowl.
“I am no animal!” Luke said in indignation. The salve soothed his heated skin and he wondered for a moment what it was. Then, he thought it better he didn’t know.
“It was the only thing he knew to do. And since you are alive, I can hardly protest.” Nessa spread the ointment across his cut, completely coating and covering it. She worked with gentle strokes and caring caresses.
Luke allowed her to work, watching the way her tender fingers moved against his skin. Soft. Careful. Delicate. Lovely. He cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Were there no physicians in the village?”
“Godwin thought it better not to let others know we were here.” Nessa put a clean cloth against his wound.
The farmer was a smart man. “Why is he helping us?”
Nessa pressed against the cloth and it stuck to the salve. She looked up at him. “Because we helped his daughter.”
Her large eyes, her smooth skin, her full lips, caught him off guard. He was breathless for a moment. The thought of pulling her against him and tasting her lips entered his mind unexpectedly. Good heavens! It must be that yellow stuff against his wound, poisoning him with these thoughts.
The black and white cat leapt into the stall from a beam above their heads. Nessa jumped. The moment was lost as they both laughed. The cat rubbed his back against Nessa’s arm and began licking the salve from her fingers. If the cat didn’t die from it, Luke was certain he wouldn’t.
Nessa was so relieved Luke’s eyes were open. She didn’t want to stop looking at him for fear it was all a wonderful dream. When she was done with his wound, she cleaned the area and removed the torch from the stall. She burned the dirty cloth and extinguished the torch before returning to him. She never wanted to leave him. She had been so worried. So worried he would never open his eyes again. She returned and sat so close to him her knee touched his shoulder. She was exhausted. She had cared for him for two days, barely sleeping.
“Lay down.”
Nessa looked at Luke.
“You have rings beneath your beautiful eyes. Have you slept?”
Beautiful? He thought she had beautiful eyes? Her?! She shook her head. “A little.”
“Lay here. Beside me.”
Nessa didn’t hesitate. She stretched herself out on her back at his side. Her body heat would keep him warm. And she would get to touch him, as they had when they were young. They stared at the ceiling.
“Do you remember looking at the stars?” Luke asked.
