She spun to glare at him. “What do you mean? I thought you said he was safe!”
Rafe gestured toward the bed. “Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I think I hate you.”
Rafe laughed. “You’re not my first patient to feel that way.”
Grumbling loudly, she lowered herself to the bed and waited, fidgeting impatiently as he moved to the side of her bed and quietly folded away the screen to reveal the rest of the room.
She was in a clinic. A large cabinet against the wall held rolls of bandages and labeled bottles in an array of glass and clay. The room was large enough to hold three beds. The farthest was neatly made and empty, but the closest, just on the other side of where the screen had been, held Tor.
He was fast asleep, his face relaxed, still unshaven, his body covered in a woolen blanket except for one heavy, tattooed arm which he’d flung over the top of the covers.
“Why the screen?” she asked in a whisper.
“Alanna was worried you’d wake up, see him lying beside you in a clinic, and immediately assume the worst.”
Well. Yes. That was almost certainly what she would have done. Assuming the worst had kept her safe for years.
She looked over at Tor, lying so still and silent. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing that a good sleep won’t fix. He refused to rest, refused to eat, alternating between sitting with you and pacing around the clinic, interfering with your care, and driving the rest of us insane.”
“So how did you convince him to sleep in the end?”
“Well….” Rafe’s lips twitched up.
Why did he look so smugly guilty? She raised an eyebrow. “What did you do, Rafe?”
“It’s possible that Tor may have taken quite a strong sleeping draught.”
“And he was happy to do that?” she asked, already suspecting the answer.
Rafe’s grin broadened. “It’s also possible that he couldn’t taste it in the tea I gave him.”
Damn. She shook her head at the healer. “He’s going to be all kinds of pissed off when he wakes up. Especially when he discovers you took off his clothes.”
Rafe chuckled. “Nah, I’m not worried.”
“Why not?”
“When he wakes up, the first thing he’ll see will be you, and he’s going to forget all about me.” Rafe gave her a long, considering look. “The first thing he’ll see will be you, Keely, won’t it?”
“Yes.” She wasn’t leaving him again. Standing beside him in the burning woods, wondering if that was the end, had made it abundantly clear for her. She had to stop running and start fighting. For him. For herself. For the future they could have.
“Tor’s a good man,” Rafe said quietly. “I know he’s not the best at dealing with his feelings, but he would do anything for you. And the baby.”
“I know.” The truth settled through her. She did know.
He smiled warmly. “Back in bed then, and I’ll send someone up with some food.”
She clambered back into the bed, letting herself drift in the pleasant warmth, watching Tor sleep, until a noise at the door woke her.
Alanna came in, carrying a tray with a small cup, a bowl of soup, and a plate of fresh bread. The rich scent of vegetables and mutton filled the room, and Keely’s stomach growled ravenously. She hadn’t felt so hungry in months.
“Ah, you’re an angel. Thank you.”
Alanna chuckled as she set the tray over Keely’s lap. “Not an angel, but I’m happy to play nurse. Here—Rafe said you should start with some ginger tea, then if your stomach can handle it, you can try some soup.”
