He was so close she could feel his breath on her ear. The touch of his hands through her clothes made her skin tingle. She pushed him away. “Don’t. I can do it myself.”
He shrugged and sat down. “If that’s your wish.”
She scooped up a handful of leaves and tried to use them to mop up what was left in her pockets. As she worked away, scooping up the squashed berries, she could feel him laughing at her. Once she’d gotten as much out as she could, she couldn’t do anything about the stains. It didn’t matter though. She’d rather have a residue of berries in her pockets and stains on her cloak and hands than have him help her.
Once they’d finished the stewed berries, Horland handed them pieces of bread. Bree noted he’d kept the smallest bit and her heart warmed to him. He might be a smart aleck, but he was honorable.
Horland finished his food and leaned back on a tree.
The girl curled up near the fire and instantly fell asleep. Bree felt bad then. She should have known her little legs would get tired much more quickly than her own or Horland’s.
He closed his eyes and although Bree tried, she couldn’t relax, let alone sleep. She was used to working long days on her little farm. Deciding to be ready to leave when they awoke, she cleaned up the pot as best she could with the cloth it was wrapped in and put out the fire, making sure nocinders remained. The last thing they needed was to set the forest on fire.
Once she’d finished, she sat back on her heels and gazed at the knight. He was everything a knight should be. Dark and handsome. She thought about the fight at the camp. And brave, maybe stupid, but nevertheless, brave.
His lashes twitched. They were as dark as his hair and so long they rested on his cheeks. His nose once again drew her attention. It was long but it wasn’t straight—it had a slight bump in the middle. Maybe he’d broken it at one time. She wouldn’t have been surprised. He seemed to like fighting and while he easily bested her and survived battling three brigands, there had to be someone more skilled than him.
She poked around making sure the fire was completely out. She regarded Horland again. He was as perfect a man as she had seen. She wondered then who had broken his nose. She chided herself. That wasn’t important. What was important was finding her father and getting back to Garrett and Laura.
Feeling something or someone watching her, she snapped her head around to find Horland studying her like she had him only minutes before. She couldn’t help but wonder what he saw, what he thought about her.
HORLAND COULDN’T TAKEhis eyes off the woman. She wasn’t only beautiful, with her wild red locks and heart-shaped face framing her large eyes, and the most kissable lips Horland had ever seen. He imagined how soft they would feel under his mouth and blinked. Why had his mind gone there? He was in search of Sir Garlain and his wife; he was not looking for a wife for himself. In fact, the very thought of sharing his abode and time with a woman was more frighteningthan he could bear. He was used to being his own man—at least when he wasn’t being the king’s man, he came and went as he pleased. He knew from his friends that wives commanded their husbands’ time and expected them to be at their beck and call. And although his friends didn’t seem to mind the inconveniences, that wasn’t the life for him.
So then why had his mind drifted to those thoughts?
She pushed her hair back over her head and tied it with a green ribbon.
This woman was clever, but although she acted strong and confident, he’d noted insecurity in her eyes more than once during their short time together. It was as if she wanted to take charge but not having the skills to do so, reluctantly demurred to his demands.
She turned her head and he smiled. She had a blotch of ash on her cheek and that only made her more compelling. He wanted to wipe it off but decided to keep his hands to himself. She was more than capable of cleaning her own face.
His gaze found her eyes and he saw an enquiry there. Not knowing the question nor the answer, he broke eye contact and looked down at the child asleep at his feet.
He nudged the girl awake. “Time to go, little one.”
The girl awoke and groaned, but she leapt to her feet and curtsied.
Briana snorted.
Horland threw her a black look but smiled at the child. “You need not curtsy every time I speak to you.”
The child glanced at the woman and, beaming at Horland, nodded.
Horland picked up his bag. “We must make haste if we are to get to the road before sunset.”
He paused as he passed Briana.
She looked up at him, either the same or a different question in her expressive eyes.
He could stand it no longer and lifted his hand toward her face, but before his fingers touched her skin, he made a gesture to wipe his own face. “It’s soot from the fire,” he said. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.
Pink rose in her cheeks as she took the kerchief.
He turned to the child. “It’s time we continued on our way.”
The path was wide enough that Briana walked beside Horland, turning her head back every now and then to make sure the child was keeping up. If the distance between them became greater than she was comfortable with, she stopped and waited for the child to catch up.
Horland stopped at those times too. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked her walking alongside of him. Although they only talked when she asked what a flower or tree was called and he answered, the silence between them didn’t seem to bother her, and he found he quite liked that she didn’t chatter like most court ladies.
