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Tarass couldn’t believe his own words and that he smiled. “Only if you promise me no more snowball fights.”
“A compromise,” she said with a laugh. “Only snowball fights that you participate in.”
“Agreed,” he said without hesitation and was shocked that he did, but then she had looked to be having so much fun with the lads that he had envied her.
“I’ll win you know,” she whispered, leaning her head toward him,
He bent his head down. “You can try.”
“A challenge I cannot refuse,” she said with a soft laugh.
He chuckled himself. “A challenge I look forward to.”
“We’re ready,” Rannock called out.
Tarass made the decision quickly. “The two dead men were taken to a hut. I’m going there now to see if they can be identified. You may come if you wish.”
“Thank you, I do wish to see for myself.” Snow sighed. “Though, I will need your eyes to help me see.”
“My eyes are your eyes,” he said, again his words surprising him. When had it become so easy to talk with this woman? They had fought and disagreed often. How had he come to enjoy her company? And why had he gotten the feeling that he missed seeing her this morning?
He took her arm to hook around his as they walked through the village together, Thaw keeping pace with them. He saw the curious stares and he knew they wondered about him and Snow. But he and Snow would never be, and it surprised him to feel a twinge of regret at the thought.
Rannock and Runa were waiting for him when he and Snow entered the hut.
Tarass acknowledged them both, letting Snow know they were there. He also acknowledged the one dead man.
“Finn is one of the men, Snow,” Tarass said.
Sorrow filled her face. “At least you found him and he can have a proper burial. I hope his death was quick and he did not suffer when his heart suddenly stopped.”
“It wasn’t a stopped heart that took his life,” Runa said. “It was a severe blow to the back of his head that killed him.”
Chapter 10
Fear wasn’t a foreign feeling to Snow, but this time when it crawled over her it was slow and prickly as if hundreds of bugs were feasting on her. Had Finn’s assailant not seen her in the snowstorm? Had the blinding snowstorm protected her from meeting Finn’s fate? Or dare she believe that Finn had been the target? But why? Why would someone want to kill Finn? He was a good man and had been a good husband for twenty years before his wife took ill and died two years ago. They had no children, but the clan was his family and the young bairns loved him. He often whittled animals for them to enjoy.
“I don’t understand,” Snow said, shaking her head. “Why would anyone want to hurt Finn?”
“You told me that you weren’t alerted to any problem until the horses stopped and you got no response when you called out to Finn,” Tarass reminded. “You or Thaw heard nothing before that? And what of Thaw? Didn’t he alert you to something being amiss?”
“The wind was howling around us and the snowfall so heavy that Finn attached a rope to the horses so we wouldn’t get separated. I kept Thaw on my lap, tucked inside my cloak, worried I’d lose him in the storm and—” She paused, her finger going to her lips as she thought a moment. “Thaw did grow restless at one point, anxious now that I think about it, but I assumed it was the storm. Do you know the other dead man? Could he have been the one to attack Finn? What caused his death?”
“He’d been stabbed, though I don’t believe that’s what killed him. He had wrapped a strip of cloth around the wound and stopped the bleeding,” Tarass explained. “He probably continued walking, perhaps searching for shelter and, weak from his wound, probably collapsed and froze to death.”
“Is he known to anyone?” Snow asked.
“I don’t believe so,” Tarass said.
“I’ve never seen him,” Runa said.
Rannock agreed. “I haven’t either.”
Snow found herself shaking her head again. “This is all so puzzling.”
“If I have any further need of you, Runa, I’ll send for you,” Tarass said, dismissing the healer and with a bob of her head at him took her leave.
“Perhaps you should see if any of your clan knows this man,” Snow suggested. Once again she was reminded that it was moments like these, not being able to see faces of those with her, that troubled her the most. Tones of voices compensated some, but not as much as seeing the expression on a person’s face or in their eyes.
“A wise point,” Rannock said and looked to Tarass, “though the painted markings on his arm does tell us he’s not from around here.”
