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“His paws. They’ll clean off fast enough in the snow when he follows us,” Tarass said and kept hold of her wrist as he guided her to a cropping of stones and helped her to sit on one.
He was annoyed with himself for not thinking of the pool of blood when he had shoved her out of the way of the arrow. But there had been such little time and his worry had been that more arrows would follow.
“What happened?” she asked.
Tarass scooped up a handful of snow. “I’m going to clean your face with snow.”
“Aye, that would work good, though I fear my garments are ruined. Blood is never easily removed from clothing,” she said, fighting to keep the quiver out of her voice.
She wanted to remain calm but the image of herself, in her mind, covered in blood wasn’t helping. And whose blood was it? A slaughtered animal? A murdered human? Not knowing made things worse.
“You’ll not wear these garments again,” he ordered and began to scrub her face with the snow.
His touch was gentle, but she had known it would be since he had been gentle with her when he had tended her wounds in the cottage. She was glad he took extra care cleaning around her mouth and her eyes, though she wondered if the bitter taste would linger in her mouth. He was thorough, cleaning her face with handful after handful of snow.
“There is nothing I can do with your garments except cover them. I’ll wrap you in a blanket when I’m done and you’ll wear my cloak the rest of the way,” he ordered.
“You’ll be cold,” she said, thinking of the snow falling on him.
“We’re not far from home,” he said as if somehow that made a difference.
“Tuck me close against you once we’re on the horse and wrap your cloak around us both, then we’ll both stay warm,” she suggested.
“Lift your chin,” he snapped, annoyed that she thought of his well-being when he had completely forgotten about the pool of blood when he had shoved her out of the way of the arrow.
He scrubbed her neck, pushing the snow high up along the nape of her neck into her hair. He wanted to rid her of every speck of blood, but only a soak in the tub would do that.
“Please tell me what happened,” Snow said. “Unable to see and not know what goes on around me can leave me fearful at times, something I don’t like to admit.”
That he had ignored her when she had first asked him what happened and not considered how it must feel to be left in the dark to your surroundings made him realize just how brave she had to be to live as she did, seeing nothing but shadows.
Tarass took hold of her hands and began slipping off the blood-soaked gloves. “I shoved you out of the way to avoid the arrow that was coming straight at you.”
She shivered at the image it painted for her and at the cold snow he rubbed over her hands.
“We were attacked?” she asked, trying to make sense of it.
“That’s the strange part. Only one arrow flew at us, then nothing,” Tarass said.
“That’s not the only strange part. There is the unexplained pool of blood and while I by no means enjoyed landing in it, it was a better alternative to what an arrow would have done to me. I would not want to die on my wedding day.”
The thought of her dying filled him with a dread that turned to rage.
“You will not die!” he said as if commanding it so.
Snow chuckled and took hold of his hand as he cleaned hers. “Someday I will, but not today thanks to you.”
How could this petite woman arouse him with a simple touch and thoughtful words?
“Don’t make me regret it,” he snapped, annoyed at himself, and she laughed, her whole face lighting with glee and his arousal grew. And he grew more annoyed.
“I fear you just might,” she teased with a smiling laugh.
He smiled in spite of his frustration and knew a day would never come that he would regret marrying her.
A sudden shiver trembled her whole body.
“I need to get you home,” he said, having lingered too long in the cold instead of rushing to clean her up and be on their way.
He snatched the cloth, Dolan had brought him, off his knee and hurried to dry the areas he had washed with snow. When he was done, he helped her to her feet, discarding her bloody cloak and wrapped the blanket around her, covering as much of her bloody garments that he could.
“Thaw?” she asked and the pup jumped up, his paws at her leg.
“He’s been busy sniffing and rolling around in the snow. He’s all cleaned off,” Tarass said. “He will sit on your lap and keep you warm for the rest of the way home.”
