“Are you hurt?” Bree asked Horland. His eyes regarded herfrom a dirt-encrusted face, and she laughed at his perplexed expression.
He leapt to his feet and patted himself down with his hands. “I have no broken bones, and while the pain in my arm has returned somewhat, I am whole. Are you all right, little one?”
The girl nodded.
“Good,” he turned to face Bree, his expression solemn. “I apologize, but I didn’t hear what you said.”
“I saw the branch and tried to warn you, but I was too late.”
He rubbed his chin. “Ah, so it was your fault.”
Bree glared at him. “What? No! It was your fault; you shouldn’t have turned around.”
He chuckled and winked at the child. She covered her giggling mouth.
Folding her arms over her chest, Bree wasn’t going to let him get away with it. “You could have seriously hurt the child.”
His mouth dropped at the corners. “You are correct. I could have and for that,” he gazed at the girl, “I apologize.”
She smiled adoringly up at him.
“Oh please, you could at least pretend to be angry with him.”
She turned her smiling face to Bree with her eyes still full of adoration. Bree’s heart melted. Somehow along the journey, both she and Horland had bonded with the girl. It was going to be hard to say goodbye when the time came, but Bree decided then to enjoy every moment she had with the child.
Horland winked at the child and before Bree knew what he was doing, he scooped Bree up into his arms. “Your turn to be carried.”
The girl laughed and bobbed on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands.
Bree wriggled and kicked her legs. “Put me down.”
He pulled her in closer to his chest. “I promise I will watch where I place my feet.”
Bree tried not to take notice his stunning smile, or the hardness of his chest, or the spicy, earthy scent filling her nostrils.
He strode on. “Keep up, little one.”
But after less than twenty steps, he stopped and gently let Bree down onto her own feet, letting her go completely. Disappointment flooded through Bree; she was just beginning to enjoy the experience.
She looked around at the small clearing. Misshapen bricks, some intact, some broken, but all charred, were strewn over the ground and a large fireplace stood at the opposite edge.
“A fire must have destroyed everything.”
Horland sighed. “It did. A great fire burned through the entire forest many generations ago.”
Bree trailed her hand over the stone mantel. “It must have been beautiful.”
“I know not.” He scuffed a broken brick as he passed and his expression turned wistful, a small smile raising the corners of his mouth. Bree got the distinct impression he was remembering happier times.
He turned full circle. “Garlain and I used to play here when we were young.” Then almost immediately, his lips tightened into a hard line and he shook his head. “That was a long time ago.”
“You and Sir Garlain are close? Like father and son?”
He gave her a funny look. “No. We used to be like brothers.”
Garlain would have to have been a much older brother.Bree gave a small shake of her head. He spoke in past tense. Bree ran her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten out the tangles. “Used to be? You’re not friends now?”
His brows drew together in a hard line as he knelt near the fireplace, plonked his bags down and started the fire with what sticks had been left there by the last visitors. “We’ll camp here.”
