Charlotte.
She may not want him to help her, but he knew in his deepest being she needed him. Even if she could perhaps manage the men at the fort on her own—and that was quite anif, given how beautiful she was—traveling through these icy mountains was dangerous under any condition. So much could happen to a woman alone.
Toanyonealone. He couldn’t stand by and leave her to her own fate when he was able to help with the journey. And as much as he wanted to protect her, forcing her to return to her village against her will had been wrong. Even Michelle would have been disappointed in him.
Inhaling another deep breath to strengthen his limbs, he pushed upright and started back up the mountain.
The perk of Gulliver’s ears was Charlotte’s first sign of Damien’s return. The mule would probably have done more than lift his head if the approaching footsteps belonged to anyone other than his master. But still, Charlotte’s hand edged down to the knife handle in her moccasin.
The figure who rounded the rock and ducked into theshelter of the overhang wore the familiar fur coat and hood. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, as it always did. This time was surely because of her concern for him.
He stopped to stroke the mule, and Gulliver turned to nuzzle Damien’s hand. A depth of friendship and trust existed between them, a bond that couldn’t be feigned. How could she notalsotrust this man? The story of his sister explained much about his actions, and with the strength of his emotion, it seemed impossible he would have made that up. She still didn’t like his deception, but she understood his reasons. She could even think of them as noble, though that didn’t help her like what he’d done any better.
At last, he turned from the mule toward her and took the last few steps to the place where he’d sat on the fur before. She let herself glance at his face as he approached. His eyes squinted enough that she couldn’t tell for sure if he’d been crying, but his expression seemed to hold a bit more peace than before.
After he sat, he exhaled a long sigh. It wasn’t so much the sound of it that gripped her as the feeling the act released into the air between them. He’d come to a decision and was trying to find relief in it.
A decision about what? She slid a look his way to see what she could decipher from his expression.
He met her gaze, and his mouth curved upward in what might have been a smile if his eyes didn’t hold so much sadness.
She should speak. Something to break through the silence, to show she understood his grief. Something to make this better for him. She’d never been good with words, though, and nothing she found now would begin to suffice.
Thankfully, he spoke first. “I’m sorry I deceived you. I’m sorry I made the decision for you. I’m sorry I broke your trust.”
Those dark eyes brimmed with an earnestness that reached in and gripped her. “Damien, I—”
He shook his head. “I just want you to know that I’ll take you to the fort if you want me to. Or beyond that to find the craftsman you seek, if you’re determined. I don’t think it’s wise. I’d rather see you safely to your village, then go find what you need and bring it back to you. But I won’t take the choice away from you. I want to go along because it’s safer. Traveling through this wilderness will always be safer with two. And having a man at your side in the fort will help thwart any scoundrels.”
Finally he stopped talking, but he watched her, almost from the side of his gaze. As though uncertain how she would respond.
Emotion burned her throat. So much had changed this last hour. She understood a great deal more about this man, and everything she learned made her want to know more. Now he was giving her the freedom to choose for herself, giving up his concerns. Well, not giving them up exactly, but he was willing to lay them aside for her.
His sister must have been quite a woman to instill such a desire to protect. To help form him into the man who sat before her now.
She forced herself to lock her gaze with his. “I need to apologize.”
His brows rose, but he said nothing.
She swallowed to bring moisture into her throat. “I ... gave you a tonic back at the camp. That’s why you slept while I left. I’m sorry I did that. I was afraid of why you were takingme away from the fort. Afraid of what you had planned. But I should have asked you about it, not run away. You’ve done so much to help me. I’m sorry I took the coward’s way out.” She could still remember the fear in her belly when she’d discovered the direction they were taking, then even more when she’d caught him riffling through her pack.
His expression had softened as he listened. Would it stir up hard feelings to ask about the last bit? She had to. “Can I ask something? When I came back into camp last night with the water, I saw you doing something with my pack.”
Confusion clouded his eyes for a heartbeat. “When it fell over? The flap was loose, and some of your bundles fell out. I put everything back in.”
Heat seared up her neck. She’d misjudged him even worse than she’d thought. “I’m sorry. I thought ... after I realized you lied about the direction ...”
He gave her a tight smile. “I guess I can understand why you tried to poison me.”
She’d better set him straight on that. “It wasn’t poison, not exactly. All the plants that go into it are safe to eat. It just makes you really sleepy for a while.”
His brows lifted again. “Is that why I cast up my accounts the moment I woke up?”
That heat in her neck rose up to scald her ears. Now that he mentioned it, hadn’t Brielle’s husband, Evan, also been struck with a stomach ailment after being shot with the arrow dipped in the potion? That seemed too much of a coincidence, but she wouldn’t give voice to it. She worked for a bright smile. “Glad you’re feeling better now. And I am sorry.”
He nodded, a relieving end to the conversation. “Any thoughts on which way you’d like to go?”
She inhaled a deep breath, then released it. She had a choice to make—return to Laurent or press on to Fort Versailles. And if no one there could accomplish what she needed, would she be willing to go farther?
