Relief washed over him. His heart hammering in gratitude, he lifted her in his arms and cradled her close to his chest so that he could press his cheek to hers. “Don’t speak. I must find us shelter.”
Nodding, she draped a finely shaped arm over his shoulders and snuggled her head against his neck. In spite of the freezing temperature, desire and tenderness crashed through him, almost crippling him with their sharp waves.
Nay, he could never let her leave him, not as long as breath filled his lungs.
Valteri pulled her cloak tighter around her and stumbled back to their horses, but with every step he took, he heard her wince from pain. “It’ll be all right, Ariel. Just a little further.”
He must find somewhere close by to check her injuries before she succumbed to them, or worse, before their journey maimed her.
As carefully as he could, he mounted his horse with her and rode back the way he’d come. Another blast of wind and snow struck them, causing his horse to rear. Ganille snorted, pawing at the air.
“Whoa, boy!” he ordered, but the horse barely settled. More wind howled and Ganille panicked, running through the forest.
Valteri struggled for control of his horse and to maintain his tenuous hold on Ariel. For several minutes, he could do nothing more than remain in his saddle as they crashed through the snow and high foliage.
Suddenly, the snow thinned, and there before them stood a small, dark hut with a thatched roof. Ganille shook his head and quieted, pawing softly at the snow.
Valteri blinked at the little cottage. Unsure if he should believe his sight or luck, he turned Ganille toward it and reined to a stop in front of the door.
Throwing his leg over the saddle’s pommel, he held Ariel tightly and slid to the ground, trying to jar her as little as possible.
He took a great deal of care as he approached the hut, waiting for an angry Saxon to rush out and attack him. That was what they normally did whenever they saw a knight approaching.
But no light or sound appeared.
Was it deserted?
“Hello?” Supporting Ariel against his chest with one arm, he knocked on the door. It swung open, its leather hinges creaking as a gust of wind caught it and sent it slamming into the interior wall.
Valteri entered, then paused to scan inside. Definitely empty. Whoever had owned the small cottage had left it years before. Cobwebs hung like palls over a few meager pieces of rough wooden furniture, and a musty, sour stench clung to the damp air.
Curling his lip, he made his way to the small cot that sat against the far wall.
With the toe of his boot, he tested the leather straps that crisscrossed the ancient frame. It appeared sound enough, but he couldn’t quite banish his misgivings.
Still not fully convinced it would hold even her light weight, he carefully lowered Ariel to the cot, ready to catch her if it gave way.
When it didn’t collapse beneath her, he sighed in relief and touched her cheek.
She looked up at him, her gaze awash with relief, pain, and exhaustion.
“Rest here while I make you a fire and tend the horses.”
Nodding, she closed her eyes and placed her bare hand over his glove. “Thank you for coming for me.”
His chest tightened. Did she think he could ever leave her in such danger? “Did you doubt me?”
“Nay,” she whispered. “But a part of me hoped you wouldn’t find me. I don’t want to be your death, Valteri.”
Misery and happiness both raked his heart.I’m a sick bastard.
Wanting to kiss and strangle her, he doffed his heavy cloak and placed it over her.
She remained still, her damp, pale hair fanning out around her. He longed to run his hand through the silken mass, but her words hung in his heart like an anchor stone.
Clenching his teeth, he turned away.
As quickly as he could, Valteri returned to the horses and unsaddled Ganille. Though the barn had seen better days, it still remained intact enough to offer shelter for the horses. He draped his saddlebags over his shoulder and retrieved an old, rusty ax from the barn’s wall.
