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An herb mixture had been kept brewing and fed to Trey when possible, and Tara decided to use an herb mixture that the women of her clan had used with some success on his wounds.
She worked a good many hours beside Mara, having decided it would be wise to keep Trey bathed in some snow throughout the night to control his fever.
Sunrise brought success since Trey slept comfortably, not a fit or stir from him and his fever marginal.
Mara chased Tara off to get some sleep, insisting she rest in case she was needed again. Tara didn’t argue. She was bone-tired and ached for sleep almost as much as she had ached for Reeve earlier.
The memory had her halting in her tracks in the hall and had her wondering over the wisdom of returning to his room. She could go to her cottage, but what if she was needed again? They would have to go looking for her, and that would waste precious time.
If she did go to Reeve’s room, there was a good chance, a very good chance, that she would get no sleep. And while a tiny tingle coaxed her to do just that, she was much too tired to be tempted by it. If so, then why not go to Reeve’s bedchamber. He would surely understand and make no demands on her.
But would she be the one making demands on him?
She slumped against the stone wall, pondering her dilemma.
The thought struck fast, and she pushed away from the wall, thinking it would be a good idea to tell Mara that she would be in her sewing room.
Bryce rounded the corner then, and she was quick to ask him to deliver the message for her. He agreed, and she bid him good night though it was early morning. She moved slowly along the hall to the stairs, never noticing his interest in her hobbling gait.
Reeve woke as the new day dawned and wasn’t surprised to see that he had slept alone. He had assumed Tara had a long night ahead of her and so he had left her with his mum to look after Trey and sought his bed.
He’d had a fitful sleep, though, surprisingly, he woke refreshed. He was eager to see Tara, and so hehurried and dressed and went in search of her. He assumed she would be with Trey and his mum, so hewas surprised when he entered the room to find Bryce signaling him to be quiet and pointing to their mum, sound asleep in the chair.
A quick glance around told him Tara wasn’t there.
Bryce signaled him to step outside the room, and once out, he closed the door behind them.
“You look for Tara, I assume.”
“I thought she’d be here,” Reeve said.
“She’s in the sewing room.”
“Why? And how do you know that?” Reeve demanded.
“I saw her in the hall a short time ago, and she asked me to tell mum. As for why?” Bryce grinned. “You’re better to answer that than me.”
“One of these days I’m just going to beat you and get it over with,” Reeve said, turning and shaking his head as he walked away.
“Reeve,” Bryce called out.
Reeve stopped but didn’t turn around. “What?”
“She’s limping again.”
That had Reeve turning around.
“And I don’t believe she even realizes it,” Bryce finished.
Reeve shook his head again and grumbled beneath his breath.
Bryce laughed. “Damn, if you don’t sound like a man in love ... utterly confused.”
“I’m saving that beating for you and one day ...” Reeve ignored Bryce’s laughter, which chased after him.
Sure enough, Tara was curled up, and looking most uncomfortable, in mum’s large wooden chair in front of the dwindling hearth. He was quick to add two good-sized logs to the fire before he went over to her.
That she had obviously been too tired to add the logs herself upset him. He hadn’t needed to ask Bryce why she came here, he knew. She avoided him, thereby avoiding the inevitable between them though he could understand she was fatigued. Had she not trusted him to let her rest, or had she not trusted herself?
