He squinted, trying to find the homes hidden among the smattering of mountains and low peaks around them. The people lived in caves, but he expected to see a sign of openings and the evidence of a population. Trampled snow, or perhaps some livestock. Children playing outside, even.
Perhaps they weren’t close enough to the village yet. He refocused his effort on the path directly in front. Charlotte had taken over leading Gulliver, but Damien walked on the mule’s other side so he could use the animal for support. His feet still burned with a searing ache, and his lungs raged with every breath, as though a fire smoldered in his chest. He’d long ago stopped trying to hide the rasp of each inhale.
They kept on for another hour, or at least it felt that long. Damien gave up watching for signs of the village, his focus honing to only the snow ahead. He leaned more heavily on Gulliver than he should, but at least the mule’s limp had grown much better.
A shrill whistle sounded around him, and the murmurs of his companions hummed like a shroud of fog. He didn’t have the strength to decipher the voices, much less their words.
One step. Another.
A boulder appeared ahead of him. Or perhaps that was the base of a mountain. Mayhap, a stone wall. An opening appeared beside them, and Charlotte turned Gulliver into it.
People crowded around, voices clamoring. More than he could take in.
He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled a breath to gather the last of his strength. Then he opened his eyes and lifted his head.
Perhaps thirty strangers, or maybe more, were gathered around them. Children, women, men of all ages.
For the most part, the crowd gave them space to continue walking, though a few approached Charlotte and Monsieur Durand. A young man, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, walked between father and daughter, and Charlotte had her arm wrapped around the lad’s waist.
Her brother.
With the haze lacing Damien’s mind, he couldn’t remember the boy’s name. But from the endearing way Charlotte had spoken of him, Damien had expected him to be a bit younger. Not this lanky young man who already topped his sister in height.
A woman had been speaking to Brielle and now moved in front of Gulliver to greet Charlotte. She seemed about Brielle’s age, and genuine pleasure shone on her face as she wrapped Charlotte in an embrace.
When Charlotte stepped back, she motioned toward Damien. “Audrey, I have someone for you to meet. Damien Levette has been ... Well, I wouldn’t have made it home without him.”
Damien worked for a smile to greet the woman, but the feat proved impossible. His weary face refused to comply.
The pleasure slipped from the woman’s expression as her brows drew together in concern. “You’re exhausted.” She strode back around Gulliver’s head to reach Damien, and from there, everything faded to a blur.
As Audrey took charge, Gulliver’s sturdy frame disappeared from beside him, and a strange man took his place, supporting Damien. Charlotte slipped under his other side, her presence easing the worry that tried to press into his chest.
“We’re going to get you to bed. You can sleep as long as you need to. Audrey will know what to do.” Her gentle murmur was the only thing that penetrated the fog in his mind.
He did his best not to stumble as they led him through a doorway, into a darker room with a stone floor. Then the bed appeared in the thin circle of his vision. The man who’dhelped prop him up now turned him, and Damien let his body sink onto the cot.
As hands worked around him, lifting his feet and straightening his body, his eyes refused to see anything except darkness. In the morning, he would have the strength to face all these people. To meet Charlotte’s family and friends.
Maybe he would even manage an earnest conversation with her father. He could finally speak with the man as an equal and make the kind of impression he’d hoped to from the beginning.
26
“He’s still not awake.” Charlotte motioned Audrey inside their apartment and reached for the carafe in her hands.
Audrey glanced toward the bed Damien had occupied for over a full day now, a frown gathering her brows. “The sleep should be healing for him. Is there fever?”
They both placed their loads on the table, and Charlotte motioned for Audrey to precede her toward the sleeping man. “Not that I can tell. He’s barely moved, though.” She’d crept over more times than she could count to make sure he still breathed, and each time the steady rise and fall of his chest was her only relief.
Audrey rested a hand on Damien’s brow and studied him for a long moment, her expression intense. If Damien fought a deeper illness, Audrey’s skills as a healer would enable her to detect it.
When she turned away from Damien, her expression softened into a gentle smile. “Rest is what he needs. I’ll sit with him to give you a break.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I’ll stay here.” She didn’t want him to awaken to a stranger in this unknown place. And ifhe grew feverish or restless in his sleep, she needed to be here for him. Besides, she’d underestimated the comfort of being back within these familiar walls. She could be content for days here, with only an occasional trip outside.
A stirring on the bed tugged her notice. Perhaps it was only a shifting of the covers, for Damien’s eyes still remained shut. But his expression had tightened, losing the serene, almost-lifeless appearance his features had held since yesterday.
Audrey stepped back, allowing Charlotte to move closer and seat herself in the chair she’d placed by his side. As she sank down, his eyelids flickered, then opened. Relief washed through her, and she perched on the edge of the chair as she waited for him to come fully awake.
