Page 37 of Legacy of Thorns
He knew how difficult it was for her to shake her usual shadow. If she wanted to take advantage of the rare opportunity for some alone time, he didn’t want to force his presence on her—he’d witnessed too much of Archie’s juvenile obsession to want to subject her to the same behavior from him. But he lingered in her sight line, hoping to reassure her of her safety while giving her the opportunity to approach him if she wanted conversation.
And to his delight, she drifted closer and closer until the two were gathering sticks from the underbrush side by side. She gave him a companionable smile—an expression he couldn’t have imagined ever receiving from her when she was first forced to join them—and it emboldened him to speak.
It was a risky subject—one that would inevitably remind her of his past deception—but it was something that had been weighing on his mind.
“Back in Ethelson, you said you had something urgent to discuss with Lorne. I’m sorry that being here with us has made it impossible for you to seek him out.”
“Did I say that?” Daphne stooped to pick up a stick. “I’d forgotten.”
Finley’s brows rose, and his eyes lingered on her curiously.
She laughed, but there was a shaky note to it. “That makes me sound fickle, doesn’t it? It felt like an urgent matter at the time, but now…” Her face grew shadowed. Clearly something was weighing on her—something that had happened since their first meeting and that had overshadowed her original mission.
There was one obvious conclusion as to what that might be. Finley’s gut clenched. He was the reason for the shadows on her face.
But when she glanced at him, instead of anger in her eyes, he saw amusement driving away the shadows. Her lips twitched. “Somehow being pursued by faceless criminals who want to abduct—and possibly murder—me puts other supposedly urgent issues in perspective.”
“When you put it like that…” Finley shook his head, his mouth curving into a smile in response to hers.
If Daphne could laugh about their situation, perhaps he’d been mistaken about the cause of those shadows. Perhaps he had projected his own feelings onto her.
For three years, he’d been plagued by nightmares of Archie being taken by their enemies, and that morning he had woken in a cold sweat from the familiar dream—except this time it was Daphne being dragged away, her eyes terrified and accusing as she screamed his name.
“We’ll work out what those men want,” he said. “And then I’ll help you find Lorne myself.” He hesitated. “If you want my help.”
She stumbled slightly at his words, and his hands flew out to brace her, steadying her by both arms. He lost his armful of sticks in the process but managed to save hers, the load of twigs and branches clasped between them. He froze in that position, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide, and her lips slightly parted.
His heart rate, which had spiked from the sudden movement, beat even faster. Was hers beating hard as well? A tremble ran through her—he could feel it through the connection with her arms. But she didn’t step away.
Her eyes dropped to his lips, and warmth exploded through Finley.
How angry would she be if he dumped her load of wood on the ground? It had to go if he was going to take her in his arms.
“Finley? Daphne?” Archie’s eager voice made them both jerk violently away from each other, half of Daphne’s gathered armful raining down around her at the sudden movement.
Archie bounded over, his gaze traveling across the wealth of small sticks that littered the ground around their feet.
“I’ve never seen such a good spot for kindling!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing just standing around?” He began to scoop up the discarded sticks around Finley, his eyes glinting with competitive spirit. “I just got back from patrol, but I’m going to have more than you at this rate!”
Finley stared at him in wordless wrath. “What are you doing here?” he growled.
“I already told you.” Archie’s arms were already full. “We just got back from patrol, and Morrow said you were out here gathering kindling, so I came to find you.” He turned to Daphne. “It’s time for you and Morrow to head out for your shift.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Daphne’s face was red, and she didn’t meet either of their eyes as she turned and fled toward the cabin, clutching her remaining half-load.
“Very well done, brother,” Finley said through his teeth, stalking toward the cabin in her wake.
“Seriously, Fin?” Archie called, his arms now overflowing. “You didn’t even collectanything? How long were you out here?” He raced to catch up, shaking his head at Finley’s apparent failure.
Finley glared at his brother, but the look of confused pity on Archie’s face forced a reluctant laugh out of him.
“Yes, I appear to be remarkably useless,” he agreed. “I’ve been noticing it more and more. Here give me some of those.” He took some of the sticks off his brother, and the two strolled back to the cabin in—almost—perfect amity.
Chapter 13
Daphne
Daphne’s thoughts of Lorne receded as the days passed, but not because her problem was resolved. Quite the opposite.
