Pashov’s friend? I hurry back over to my pallet of furs to dress, setting Pacy down on the blankets. “Is something wrong?” I call out. While it hasn’t been unusual in the past for Harrec to come by and visit, it’s early. Is there something wrong with Pashov? My heart beats a little faster.
“I wanted to see if you had some of those tasty little not-potato cakes you used to make at the fire. I am tired of eating dried meat.”
I exhale with relief. It’s not a problem…he’s just hungry and a bachelor. Harrec has no family to feed him. “Give me two minutes to dress.” I bind my leaky breasts and fling on my favorite tunic and leggings. Pacy seems restless, but not so irritated that I can’t start breakfast for someone else. I head over to the screen and pull it back, inviting him in. “Come inside. I need to stoke the fire.”
Harrec pats his flat belly and beams a smile at me. He’s wearing a fur wrap over his shoulders, and his long hair is tied into one thick braid that bounces against his arm as he moves inside. “You are a good female, Stay-see.”
“Thanks,” I say drily. “Keep an eye on Pacy, will you? I’ll get food started.” I don’t mind cooking for him or any other of the hunters that show up. I enjoy feeding people.
He bounds over to my furs, where Pacy is crawling around, and scoops the baby up. I hear Pacy’s delighted giggle and smile to myself as I stoke the fire. Harrec is one of the quirkier tribesmates. He’s a hunter, but at the sight of his own blood? Faints dead away. He’s got a weird sense of humor, but he’s also got a kind heart and likes kids. “This little one has a messy loincloth,” Harrec announces. “Shall I change him?”
“You would be my hero if you did,” I say. Once the fire is blazing again, I spear my last clod of dvisti dung and toss it on to keep things blazing, then head over to my little kitchen. I pull out a small not-potato from my basket of roots and chop it with my bone knife. I can’t stop thinking about Pashov, though. A bolt of longing shoots through me, and I decide that I’ll make double the breakfast cakes for when he shows up. If he shows up.Gosh, I really hope he shows up. I glance over at Harrec and he’s changing the baby, making silly faces for him as he does. “Where’s Pashov this morning?”
Man, that did not sound casual atall.So much for keeping my cool.
“Oh, I am sure he will be here soon once he hears I am here.”
I glance over. That’s a weird thing to say. “Why’s that?”
“Because I am trying to make him jealous, of course.” He grins at me and swings Pacy into his arms. “What better way than to come and flirt with his mate and play with his kit?”
I chop a little faster, irritated. Is that what this is about? He’s come to flirt? “Hate to break it to you, but I am not interested.”
“Oh, I know this.” Harrec laughs, playing with Pacy some more. “You are my friend’s mate and I would never do such a thing. But he does not know this.”
What on earth is he talking about? He’s such an odd duck. I frown as I grab a bit of dried meat and mince it, but he says nothing else, just plays with Pacy. Maybe I misheard him.
I move toward the fire and put the little cakes on my scorched bone plate. It’s not holding up well against the repeated use in the fire, but without my skillet, I don’t have another option. No sooner does it start to sizzle than Pashov peeks in through the doorway. “I smell cakes?” he asks, a delighted look on his face.
That delight changes to a thunderous frown when he sees Harrec.
“Good morning to you,” Harrec calls out, bouncing Pacy on his knee. “Enjoying our fine weather?”
Pashov enters and moves near the fire, his eyes narrow. “The weather is poor.”
“Is it?” I ask. “It’s so hard to tell here in the canyon.” The little city is insulated from the worst of the snows, and apparently they have been raging pretty hard lately. All we get is the occasional sprinkle of drifting snow and the incessant howling above.
Pashov nods, moving to sit next to the fire. I don’t miss that he’s sitting between myself and Harrec. I’m a little surprised—and irritated—by that. Does he truly think I would show any interest in his friend? All I want is him.
The first cake is ready, and I plate it, then offer it to Pashov. He looks surprised but gives me a grateful smile, then scarfs it down. Between bites, he glances over at Harrec. “Are you hunting today?”
“Of course.” Harrec blows a raspberry on Pacy’s belly. “I just wanted to get fed first.”
Pashov grunts and then looks over at me. “It is good. Thank you.”
I nod and feel like blushing a little, but I get to work on the next cake, slathering it with a bit of fat so it’ll cook up tasty. They discuss the game in the area and the fact that no one has seen a metlak since we arrived. I don’t mind if the metlaks are completely gone, and say so, though I do think about the mother with her little baby every now and then.
Eventually all the cakes are made and both hunters fed. Pacy starts to get fussy, and so I hand the last cake over to Pashov and put the baby to my breast.
Pashov sets his little plate down, watching me.
“Not hungry?” Harrec asks, reaching for the plate. “I will take that?—”
Pashov slaps his hand away. “This is for Stay-see. She has not eaten.”
“Hmph,” Harrec says, an amused smile on his face.
I’m surprised—and a little touched—that Pashov would save one of his cakes for me. He loves them fiercely and can eat them by the dozen. “You go ahead,” I tell him. “I’m fine with a bit of dried meat.”
