Bree collected more sticks and branches and piled them beside the fireplace while the girl ran about collecting what she could.
Making a seat out of the whole bricks she moved together, Bree sat down. The girl kept throwing more sticks into the fireplace, snuffing out the fire Horland had just managed to get going. He grunted and pushing the newly acquired sticks away, he set about relighting the fire.
Bree narrowed her eyes at Horland. “She was just trying to help.”
He let out another grunt but kept working.
The girl was about to throw more sticks on the fledgling fire and Bree held up her hands to stop her. “That’s enough, sweetie, we’ll chuck on bigger pieces of wood once the small stuff burns down a bit. Come and sit with me.” Once the girl was settled, Bree said to Horland, “You’re not friends with Garlain now? What happened?”
He didn’t answer; in fact, he completely ignored her.
“Did you hear me?” she asked.
He blew on the small fire while gently placing more kindling on top of the smoking pile. “I did.”
“Then why not answer?”
“Why do you not be quiet. A woman should not question a man.”
“Oh, please, don’t start that nonsense. I am a modern woman and if I have a question, whether it be for a man or woman, I will ask it.”
Bree smirked. If he only knew how modern.
His answer? Another grunt as he got up and left the clearing.
Bree hugged the girl’s shoulders. “What’s got him so peeved?”
The girl looked up at Bree and raised her shoulder as if saying she didn’t know.
“It’s okay, sweetie, the question was rhetorical anyway.”
Although Bree tried to make small talk during their evening meal of the rabbit Horland brought back into camp and the stale cheese, Horland kept quiet. And by the time they settled down for the night, Bree stared up at the blackness and worried about his behavior.
He and her father were once friends, but they obviously weren’t any longer. What could have happened to make two men, who thought of one another as brothers, become so estranged? And if they were now enemies, why did Horland want to find Garlain? Bree rubbed her face. Well, it wasn’t to have a drink and a chat, that was for sure.
The only reason two men could have such a bad falling out she could think of, was a woman. But Horland and Garlain couldn’t possibly be interested in the same woman. The ages between them didn’t make sense. Unless the woman was much younger than Garlain, of course. That would make sense. But Bree sucked in her lips. Just how old was Horland anyway?
She studied him though her lashes. He couldn’t have been much older than Bree was. Maybe early thirties at the most. How old would Garlain be? From what she could remember he was in his thirties when she was born. She was twenty-seven, so that would make him late fifties or early sixties now.
Nope. It couldn’t be over a woman then. Horland would have been a child when her father and mother met.
But the way he spoke of Patricia told Bree he cared forher a lot. Maybe like the bond Bree had developed for the little girl, her mother and Horland had become like mother and son. He did seem enamored with the orb, the orb he insisted was Patricia’s property.
Bree rolled over and shoved her arm under her head. He was right, of course—it was Patricia’s once, but that was in another time. In this time, it was hers, and she needed it if she wanted to return to Garrett and Laura.
She screwed up her face, considering that it wasn’t a different time to Horland. And he was acting as if Patricia was still alive and he intended to take the orb to her. Did he think Garlain had done something to Patricia?
But how couldn’t he know she was dead? Dianne had told Bree, Garlain had returned to his time, and the king and his eldest daughter already knew Patricia was sick and they also knew she had died. But somehow, no one thought to tell Horland? It must have been years since he and Garlain had saw one another. Maybe Horland left Pradwick for some reason or another.
Great. How was Bree going to tell him what happened?
Chapter 10
At first Bree slept soundly, but then the dreams started. First, she and Horland were sitting down beside a clear burbling stream, enjoying one another’s company, and chatting as if they’d known one another all their lives. She laughed at his jokes and he laughed at hers, she was content and loving his closeness, so when he took her into his arms and kissed her, it was the most natural thing in the world for her to return his kiss. Everything about that dream felt right.
But before she and Horland could go any further, the dream switched, and she was a bystander to Garlain and Horland fighting one another. It only touched Bree’s mind that her father was a young man, not much older than Horland.
Horland’s sword nearly took off Garlain’s hand, but Garlain swept his sword around and nearly took off Horland’s head. Bree’s heart pounded, she didn’t want either of them getting hurt or worse, killed. Fear had her screaming at them to stop, but no sound came out of her mouth no matter how hard she strained.
