Sarah’s brow furrowed. “What was that?”
“My mother’s language.”
Finn looked up from his spot, where he’d been rifling through his pack. “What did you say?”
A small smile tugged at Venn’s lips. “It’s the price we pay to hold such a precious gift.”
Sarah giggled. She often did that when Venn spoke. It was clear she regarded him as a dashing hero, and Vera couldn’t blame her.
He was her hero, too.
After Rebecca was burped, Venn settled her in a wrapped bundle beside him on the ground, then he looked to Sarah. “Now, little one—what are we to do with your hair?”
Sarah’s face scrunched, and she glanced at her thin braids. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“Why, your braids are coming undone! And you don’t want your hair getting in your dinner, do you?” He pulled a face, which Sarah mimicked before a laugh escaped out of her.
With a grin, Venn scooped the girl onto his lap and gently tugged out the ties Vera had used that morning. He then combed through her shoulder-length hair with his long fingers, infinite care in every movement.
“Where did you learn to braid hair?” Vera asked from her place by the fire as she stirred the simple stew she’d made.
“From my sisters,” he said easily, still focused on his task of carefully removing each knot. “I admit, I mostly tugged their hair when I was young, but they always begged me to play with their hair, so I soon learned.”
“How many sisters do you have?” Finn asked.
“Two, like you. One of my sisters is older than me, though, and the other one is younger. They’re both married, and I have three nieces between them.”
“Is your mama dead?” Sarah asked.
Venn’s fingers halted briefly, but he quickly started braiding her hair. “No, but my father died when I was only two years old. My little sister was only a little older than Rebecca, here.”
Sarah looked to her sleeping baby sister. “She’s so tiny.”
“She is.” Venn tied off her braids, but the girl didn’t crawl off his lap, and Venn didn’t move her.
“Vera told us your father died,” Finn said, coming to sit a little closer.
Venn looked to Vera, and his smile was soft. “Vera knows me well.”
Heat touched Vera’s cheeks, but she couldn’t look away from his gaze.
“Are you two married?” Finn asked suddenly.
Venn blinked. “Ah—no. We’re not.”
Vera quickly looked toward the stew, her heart tripping as she wondered what Venn was thinking. He’d looked shocked, but was that because of the sudden question, or was he against the very idea of marriage to her?
“I’ll marry you,” Sarah offered.
Venn chuckled. “A very kind offer, little one. But I think you should wait to make such an important decision.”
“Children don’t get married,” Finn added.
“But I like Venn,” Sarah protested. “He’s funny, and he doesn’t hurt my hair.”
“High praise indeed,” Venn said. “But perhaps not the best reasons for marriage.”
Sarah twisted in his lap, her eyes tracing his ponytail that had fallen over his shoulder. She ran her fingers over the dark strands. “You have pretty hair,” she told him.
