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“Christ.” She heard Sam mutter somewhere next to her. “Are you all right? Can you breathe?”
At last, her throat opened and Ivy sucked in a long, raspy breath.
“Ivy?”
She felt his hands on her and thought she detected a trace of fear in his voice. Perhaps a bit of concern.
“Speak to me, Ivy.”
“I-I’m f-fine.” Tears stung the back of her eyes as she tried to control the sudden wave of trembles over her body. Then she was back in his arms. He pressed her so hard against him, she could literally hear his heart rate beneath her ear. It startled her to realize just how fast it was beating.
At last he pushed her away and propelled her back to the fire. “Sit down, Ivy. I’ll get a fire started and get you warmed up.”
She would have rather he held her a bit longer. But since that was so uncharacteristic of her, she forced the thought aside and concentrated instead on calming her frenzied nerves. She was trembling so terrible, no matter how hard she tried; she was unable to control the shakes. Sam moved quickly near her, putting a fire together. When the first flick of his match lit up the dark night, Ivy felt the first inkling of comfort. The black forest felt like a fortress closing in around her.
Pulling her knees close, she automatically reached down and rubbed her ankle. With the fire now lit, Sam came close and kneeled in front of her.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded vaguely, hating the sudden urge to cry. He stared at her for a long time, but, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. Pushing himself up into a standing position, he turned to leave. “I’ve got to get rid of the wolves or we’ll attract other scavengers tonight.”
Ivy watched him disappear behind the thick underbrush. She shivered and drew her cloak closer. The only lighting in the dark night was the tiny glow of the fire. Though she couldn’t see him, she could hear Sam dragging the animals through the bush, the sound becoming distant until it faded altogether. Once again, Ivy was all alone.
Her eyes peered into the black forest, fearful of other creatures waiting just beyond the camp perimeter, watching her with their beady eyes. Hunger gnawing their empty stomachs. A wave of fear slithered up her spine, growing with every minute Sam was away from camp. When she heard the first rustle of bush her heart nearly stopped beating altogether until he emerged from the darkness.
A rush of relief flooded her body
in the form of one huge tremble. She closed her eyes, trying to still the emotion.
“Ivy?”
He knelt down in front of her again, his eyes looking at her with such concern. For some reason, it caused her chest to hurt.
“Lift your chin.” In the palm of his hand, he held his hat upside down. Inside was some type of poultice.
Ivy complied. “What’s that?”
He placed the mixture against her neck where the rope had left a nasty burn. She couldn’t see it, but she could definitely feel it. She flinched, though truthfully, more from the touch of his hands against her skin than from the poultice against her open wound. His eyes drifted to her face. Shadows of the night danced across his features and cast his eyes into darkness. For some reason, Ivy wanted very much to see those hazel eyes.
“It’ll help the wound,” he told her. “Hold out your wrists.”
Again she did as he asked. He ministered to the rope burns on her wrists as well and Ivy felt tears sting the back of her eyes. Not from the healing bite of the medicine, but from the soft and tenderness of his touch, so unlike any man’s she had ever felt before.
“How’s your ankle?”
Startled, she shook her head before she had a chance to stop herself.
He didn’t say anything immediately, instead concentrated on applying the herbal concoction to her open cuts. Then he asked in a low voice, “How did it happen?”
She knew his question referred to the origin of her ankle’s injury rather than the evening’s events. He had asked once before and she had ignored him. For so long she had hidden the injury she had endured as a child, ashamed by those memories. Yet, sitting there with him as he mended her injuries, she heard the words pass her lips, “I fell down a flight of stairs.”
He looked up, a frown noticeable even in the darkness. “Didn’t you have it set?”
Ivy paused, weighing her next words. Not sure how much she wanted to tell. “No.”
His hands paused. “Why not?”
She studied his neckline, the fire cast dancing shadows across his unshaved jaw. “It wasn’t an accident.”
