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“Did you need some help?” he asked.
She gritted her teeth. Even the timbre of his voice was alluring. She cleared her throat as if that might clear her brain and recalibrate her body. “No.” The word came out rougher than she intended, but she didn’t correct it.
Suddenly, he caught her hand. She let her eyes flit up form, his hand holding hers to his face before sliding away.
“How’s your cut?”
“Healing.”
“Are you angry?”
She shook her head, feeling like he’d caught her in the act, and pulled her hand from his grasp.
“Then what is it?”
She wiped her hands on her shirt as if it would clear away the chaos inside her chest at the way his unmarred skin felt against her calloused hands. “Nothing?”
A line appeared between his disconcerting eyes. They looked a bright green today, like the woods filled with spring growth after winter. “It’s been a while since you seemed like you wanted to pummel the chore you were doing.”
She shot him a glare and stepped around him, moving toward the fire.
“Are you infuriated at everyone? Or just me?”
She ignored him.
“Just me then.”
“No.” She chanced a look at him over her shoulder.
He grinned. “Everyone.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to the river to fish.”
“I’m coming.”
She glanced at him, looked at him holding his chest. “You were just there.”
“Is there a law that says I can’t go more than once? The law of Tarley I take it?”
She huffed a frustrated sound. “Fine, but I’m not waiting for you.” She picked up her pole and tackle.
When she reached the river, the sight suddenly melted away in front of her like hot wax, revealing a hazy view.
Tarley saw herself, dressed in Mattias’s old clothes. There was a fire. The campsite. The sound of footsteps. Vision Tarley turned and looked at the forest. A shadow appeared. Then everything was gone, and Tarley stood at the edge of the river as dizziness threatened to topple her.
She took a step, bent slightly at the waist, shook her head as she blinked, unsure what had just happened, then took several breaths, waiting, worried that perhaps she was getting one of her headaches. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited a breath, and reopened them. Her vision remained steady, and there wasn’t any pain or nausea. Several more breaths later and no plausible explanations, she decided she was just overly tired.
By the time Ollie stepped out from the woods onto the riverbank, she had already baited her hook and was casting it into the current, the strange incident sliding down the river with the water.
“You weren’t kidding about not waiting.”
“Why would I joke?”
“Most people–” But he stopped.
“Most people what? Coddle you?” she asked and waded deeper into the moving water.
“Why would you say that?”
