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Tara stirred with a faint sigh. He wondered over this woman he had just met yesterday. He knew little about her, and yet she intrigued him. She had made certain at first to keep her distance from him, but he knew that wouldn’t, actually couldn’t, last long. With the snow and the cold, it was inevitable they would be drawn together whether to provide heat to each other or a helping hand as she had needed today.
She had called out to him, and when he had turned with barely enough time to grab hold of her hand, before she went over the edge, he had felt a jolt to his gut. He thought for a moment she’d slip from his grasp, but she stretched out her fingers to him as he did to her, and they grabbed hold of each other and clung tightly, not wanting or willing to let go.
He wondered who waited for her and if her intended would care that she would never arrive. Or would it be her bride price that he missed? Marriages were made more often for the convenience and benefit of the clans. Love was rarely involved, but his parents’ marriage had shown him the difference, and he knew that he would settle for nothing less.
Tara hadn’t had that choice. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to escape a marriage that wasn’t of her choosing. But he couldn’t help but wonder who would ever agree to wed a woman considered a death bride?
It made no sense.
Her eyes suddenly popped open, and she glared at him standing there, a few of her dark ringlets curled around his fingers. They said nothing, just stared, until Reeve moved, trying to rid his fingers of the possessive curls.
They refused to let go, curling around his fingers again and again each time he tried to tear them away. He was surprised to hear her chuckle.
“They are obstinate like me,” she said.
“And soft like you.” He turned and walked away, the curls reluctantly releasing him. He smiled, wondering if she would chastise him or graciously accept the compliment.
“Something smells good,” she said.
From the hint of joy in her voice, it seemed to have pleased her, and that pleased him.
“A rabbit is roasting and onions and turnips are boiling.”
“I wish I could be of more help. I am not accustomed to being idle,” she said.
That had him returning and taking a look at her ankle. “The swelling has gone down some. We should pack more ice on it.” He glanced at her. “Up to suffering another chill?”
“Just hearing the meat sizzle in the hearth is warming me already.”
“One more dose of snow will be enough for the night, and then we’ll see how your ankle is in the morning.”
“I’ll be fine to continue our journey,” she insisted.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“It’s not your ankle,” she said.
“But I make more sensible decisions when it comes to your injury.”
Her smile surprised him. He thought for sure she’d argue; most women could be obstinate that way.
“And you’re always right.”
“You learn fast,” he teased.
“That I do.”
The bit of sharpness in her response had him realizing it was a warning, and he grinned. “I will remember that.”
The wind howled around the cottage, rattling the thick pine branches that served as shutters. The chilly draft sent the flames in the fireplace dancing wildly and had Tara relieved that no more snow covered her ankle. Her stocking was back on, and she was wrapped snugly in her fur-lined cloak.
Reeve, however, only had his extra wool plaid to cover him, and he shivered beside her in bed. She had almost objected when he had announced that they would share the single bed, and though it wasn’t narrow, the size left little room for space between them. But with all he had done for her, she couldn’t see him spending the night on the cold earthen floor.
The way he was shivering, though, you would think that was where he was, and it bothered her. He had looked after her, and she lay selfishly beside him, wrapped in a fur-lined cloak while he froze.
While the curse remained a threat, she neither loved him nor was to wed him. They barely knew each other. And with Reeve suffering no dire repercussions thus far, it certainly should be safe enough to share some heat with him for the night, just as they had the night before, though that was by accident.
He’d freeze to death by the time she debated the matter and so before she could change her mind, she said, “You are freezing, share the warmth of my cloak with me.” And she opened it for him to slip close.
