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Truth be told, the mention of the food items had visions of steaming stew floating in her mind, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation.
He chuckled, the sound unnervingly pleasant. “I quite understand.”
She peeked over her shoulder, expecting him to be mocking her, but he continued to hop around on his crutch, examining every nook and cranny in the kitchen.
“Since I’m much warmer now, I’ll go back outside to the stable.”
He nodded, but didn’t face her, probably hoping to find a fully cooked meal somewhere inside the cupboards.
Twilight painted the snow in shades of bluish gray, and after donning her cloak and gloves, she hurried back to the stable. Noises from woodland creatures—the hoot of an owl, chattering of squirrels—encouraged her to make haste and not tarry.
The horse gave a snort of welcome as she entered the stable, and after giving him one of the precious apples, she tucked the rest of the items into a sack she found hanging from a hook on the stable wall.
Eager to return to the warmth of the cottage, she stiffened when a strange scratching caught her attention. Quickly scanning the area for something she could use as a weapon, she grabbed hold of a filthy shovel, most likely used for mucking out the single stall.
The scratching continued from outside the building. She tiptoed to the entrance and peered around the corner. A shadow grew larger as it crept around the corner. Shovel lifted like a cricket bat, she waited, ready to demobilize any assailant.
* * *
More than pleasedwith the bounty he’d uncovered in the deserted cottage’s kitchen, Timothy stood back, assessing the various items. He opened the cottage door and scooped several pots of snow. Thank goodness the snow was wet, which would yield more water when melted. Although they wouldn’t eat until later that evening, they would at least have something to fill their bellies.
If Emma ever returned with the carrots and apples.Where in the devil is she?Concern twisted his gut that she may have taken the horse and left. He not only worried that she might have abandoned him, injured as he was, but also that she was outside in the night defenseless.
Although he’d teased her about the animals lurking about in the night, his fears were not unfounded. However, the type of animal most threatening to her would be the two-legged kind.
He turned from the table, now displaying his treasure trove of ingredients and implements, and hitched the crutch under his arm, ready to go back to the parlor and attempt to pull on his boot so he could search for her. Before he made it out of the small kitchen, the front door burst open, and a gust of cold air blew through the home’s small interior.
Unable to speak, his mouth opened and closed several times as he stared at Emma, clutching a brown sack to her chest. Scratches marred her fair complexion, and . . . feathers? . . . littered her hair.
His gaze darted again to the brown sack . . . whichmoved,then back to lock with hers. “What’s in there?” he asked, his whispered tone conveying his amazement.
In answer to his question, the thing in the sack squawked in protest.
“I caught a chicken!” The grin beamed on her face as if she’d captured Napoleon himself. “It wasn’t easy, mind you. I never realized they could jump. When I tried to pick it up, it leapt at me, nearly scratching my eyes out. But I smacked it with a shovel and stuck it in my sack. Apparently, I only incapacitated it.”
She held up the sack like a pirate’s booty.
“I could kiss you.”
Her face reddened at his blurted words, and he wished he could take them back.
He rushed to put her at ease. “Forgive me. In my excitement at our prospective meal, I became overwhelmed.”
Her cheeks still pink, she lowered her eyes. “I brought some potatoes I found and the carrots and apples as well. I gave one apple to your horse. It would be unfair not to share with him.”
Had some magical transformation taken place during her trip outside? Was this even the same termagant who’d argued with him before?
He rather missed her. But he liked this softer version as well. “That was most considerate of you. Now, would you like the honors?”
She tilted her head, her blond brows drawing in a delightful furrow. “For what?”
“To kill it.”
Those blue eyes popped wide. “Do we have to?”
He bit back the laugh at her innocent expression. “Why else would you have risked your very life but to bring it back so we can cook it?”
She pursed her lips. “I suppose we can’t wait for it to depart naturally. Although it appeared rather scrawny.” She pushed the sack forward. “I think you should have the honors.”
