Time to Heal Read online

  “I said I’d rather not talk about it,” Emmeline said firmly. She rose from her seat by the fire and brushed off the too-short skirt with brisk, no-nonsense gestures. “Shouldn’t you check the, uh, yarroy seeds? How long do they take to get done anyway?”

  Skahr sighed deeply and ran one big hand over his hair, which was pulled back to the nape of his neck and secured with a leather thong. For a moment, Emmeline was certain he was going to continue to pry. But then he answered, mildly enough,

  “The seeds should be almost ready. Let me check.”

  Pulling a long-handled spoon out of his travel pouch, he proceeded to stir the small pot until it seemed to reach the right consistency. Nodding his head in apparent approval, Skahr dragged the pot carefully out of the fire and sprinkled a little magic dust on it while whispering a few words.

  After a moment, the little vessel grew until, to Emmeline’s amazement, it was as big as the largest stew pot she had ever seen. And it was filled to the brim with the yarroy seeds which had become a pale purple mush, very like porridge, Emmeline thought.

  “I am afraid I have no bowls,” Skahr rumbled apologetically. “But I do have another spoon.” He produced it from his pouch and handed it to Emmeline. “I am sorry but we will have to eat right from the pot.”

  “I don’t mind,” Emmeline said, accepting the rough wooden spoon from him. It was a far cry from the crystal and china and silver cutlery she’d been raised with—the formal dress dinners which could take hours to complete in which every rule of etiquette had to be rigidly observed. But she had been living away from Hastings Hall for over a year now and she found she didn’t miss those things a bit. Eating out of a pot by a campfire would have horrified her mother—Emmeline on the other hand, was just glad to have some food in her belly.

  The yarroy seed mush had a creamy, slightly sweet, nutty flavor which she found surprisingly delicious. It reminded her a little of the sweet porridge her nurse had fed her when she was very young. Emmeline fell to it with a good appetite—she was even hungrier than she had realized.

  “You seem to be enjoying your food,” Skahr remarked, taking another spoonful of the pale purple mush from the still-steaming pot himself.

  “Yes, I am. It’s delicious,” Emmeline said, blowing on another bite. “It reminds me of what I used to have for breakfast—er, First Meal—when I was a little girl.”

  “It is what we often feed our children when they are first weaning from the breast or our old ones when they have lost their teeth,” Skahr remarked. “Yarroy seeds are easy on the stomach and promote good health.”

  “Jamie isn’t quite old enough to eat solid foods yet—but I wish he was.” Emmeline sighed. “I wish he didn’t have to have a wet nurse. But more than that I wish…” She paused, feeling her cheeks heat in the firelight.

  “Go on—what is it you wish?” Skahr prompted gently.

  “I wish I hadn’t let my own milk dry up—that I hadn’t given him up in the first place. I wish I could still nurse him myself,” Emmeline said in a rush.

  It was, of course, a completely inappropriate topic of conversation for an unmarried woman to engage in with a man. Her mother would have been shocked and disapproving. But the big Kindred was so quiet and so non-judgmental. Somehow it felt safe to say such things to him, even if those things would be frowned upon by polite society.

  “It must be terribly difficult to be parted from your child,” he rumbled after a brief, thoughtful silence. “A mother’s love for her baby is unequaled by any save the love of the Goddess for all of her children.”

  “The Kindred Goddess, you mean?” Emmeline asked curiously. “Do you really believe in her, then?”

  “I do.” He nodded gravely. “She sees all, knows all, cares for all. She sees you, Emmeline—she knows what you have gone through, knows your fears for your son, and she cares for you both.”

  Emmeline looked down at her hands still holding the wooden spoon.

  “I wish I could believe that. But after the things I’ve had happen to me in my life…I’m sorry. I just don’t know if I believe in any kind of a God or Goddess—though I know it is wrong and shocking to say so.”

  “You should always say what is in your heart,” Skahr said with finality. “Are you full now? We should be banking the fire and getting ready to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long and dangerous day.”

  Looking around, Emmeline realized that night had fallen while they ate and talked. Above them, the sky was ablaze with stars—strange constellations she had never seen in her own world. And beyond the warm circle of firelight, the forest lurked. She shivered as she looked at the long line of trees.

  “I’m not hungry anymore,” she said. Which wasn’t exactly the same as being full but looking at the Bervoten had made her lose what was left of her appetite. She handed Skahr her spoon and he put it back in his pouch, along with his own. Then he put the lid on the pot and pushed it into the embers of the fire.

  “We will have the rest for First Meal tomorrow. Time to bed down.” Rising, he reached for a small roll of fur he had been carrying strapped to his back. When he shook it out, Emmeline was amazed to see that it made quite a large blanket on the ground. Skahr lay down on one side of it and got comfortable—then motioned for her. “Come—it will be safest for you to lie between me and the fire.”

  Emmeline felt her stomach grow cold and her heart started to pound. Sleep with him? Close to him with no way to escape if he decided to try something? Not that she thought he would, but she hadn’t thought that Jack Torrington would either and look how that had turned out.

  “Oh, that’s all right,” she said, trying to speak lightly, though her voice came out sounding high and strained. “I…I’ll be just fine over here—on the other side of the fire.”

  Quickly she spread the black feather cloak Talli had given her on the ground across from him, making sure to keep the fire between them. Then she lay down on it and curled herself into a protective ball, pulling one side of it over her so that she knew she must look like nothing but a small bundle of black feathers with a head sticking out.

  Skahr was silent for a long moment and she could feel him deliberating over what to say. Was he offended? She hoped not but she couldn’t help it—she simply couldn’t sleep so close to a man she had only known a few days. Or any man at all, for that matter. Torrington had ruined her trust in the entire sex—well, except for Richard, but he was like a brother to her.

  At last the big Kindred spoke.

  “Emmeline,” he rumbled in a soft voice. “I would never hurt you. Never…take what you did not want to give.”

  “I know that,” Emmeline said quickly. Oh God, if he got mad… “I just…feel more comfortable over here. That’s all.”

  He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his hair again.

  “It would be safer if you would sleep between me and the fire. But I see you have inner fears greater than those which threaten us tonight.”

  Emmeline didn’t know what to say about that. She just lay still and stared at him, hoping he would stay on his side of the fire and leave her alone.

  At last Skahr sighed again. Then he turned to lay on his back, looking up at the stars.

  “Good night, Emmeline. May your sleep be sweet.”

  “Um…thank you. Yours as well,” she replied, not knowing what else to say.

  But it didn’t seem necessary to say anything else. The big Kindred’s eyes were already closed and he was breathing slowly and evenly.

  Emmeline stared across the dying fire at him. Could he really have fallen asleep that quickly? Apparently so.

  She wished she could drift off so quickly but the long, black line of trees at her feet kept her awake and restless. What would they find when they entered the Bervoten tomorrow? Was it really as dangerous as everyone said? And if so, could Skahr get them safely through it? Would she be able to get the Mother’s Milk for Jamie and get back in time to save him?

  So many questions crowded her head th