Page 32 of The Shipwreck
Part of him felt relief.He’d been racked with guilt all this time, cursing his misplaced affections for Avril as some weakness on his part.To know that she felt the same way about him—that her feelings went deeper than lust, that she recognized his good heart, and that she genuinely cared about him—lifted his spirits.
But the other part of him, the rational part, realized that there was one thing he feared more than Avril turning him in.And that was Avril trying to keep him safe.
Her trusting gaze filled him with dread.There had been much more than simple mercy in her expression.He’d glimpsed a dangerous combination of affection and determination in her eyes, the same unflinching adoration and steely will that had kept her daughter alive on this barren spit of shore.
The fact was she didn’t want him to leave either.As improbable as it seemed, the two of them—captive and captor, mortal enemies—had somehow done much more than find common ground and an uneasy peace.They’d fallen in love.And now she naively believed she could keep him.
But she couldn’t, not without endangering herself and her daughter.She couldn’t hide him.Anyone with one good eye could see Brandr was a Viking.She’d never be able to explain how he’d arrived here, where he’d come from, how they’d met.
And he knew what would happen after that.Avril would be called a Viking sympathizer, branded a traitor, and probably executed.And Brandr wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing to protect her.
He was cursed.Misfortune befell anyone who got close to him.As much as his heart ached with the desire to stay, as much as he knew he’d be hurled back into his familiar pit of despair if he left, he knew the only answer was to ignore the bittersweet yearning in his soul, turn his back on her—on both of them, and go.
Chapter 10
Avril swept through the seagrass toward the bleating ewe, a stool under one arm and her milk bucket bouncing against her thigh.She felt as light as thistledown atop a bubbling stream.She didn’t have all the details worked out, but she knew that sparing Brandr’s life was the right decision.
He was a decent man.Maybe he was a Viking, and maybe he’d come as an invader, but he’d shown her nothing but humanity, courtesy, and kindness, in spite of her hostility.He’d seen to Kimbery’s cut and kept her from harm by telling her stories.He’d saved Avril from fire and feared for her welfare when she’d confronted her neighbor.It was obvious he felt protective of them.
Did he feel something more?Her heart fluttered at the possibility, and she grew slightly giddy, remembering the way he’d looked at her just now, not only with relief and gratitude, but with a sweet sort of devotion.
She couldn’t help but smile as she pushed through the gate and closed it behind her.Plopping the stool down next to Caimbeul, she seated herself.She rested her palm on the animal’s flank and set the bucket under the sheep’s belly.As she milked the ewe, she daydreamed.
What if Brandr stayed here with her, with them?He had nowhere else to go, after all.His men hadn’t shown up.He was a stranger in her land.He was a castaway, stranded here with no means of survival.She could offer him a roof over his head, food, safety…and perhaps something more.
She leaned her brow against the sheep’s woolly side and closed her eyes.
What if the attraction she felt for him grew into genuine love?Could he be a father for Kimbery?And—she dared to imagine—could he be a husband toher?
Three days ago, she would have thought it impossible.Now it seemed not only possible, but right.After all, they were both castoffs, exiled from their people.It seemed natural and fitting to seek comfort in each other’s company.
She squeezed the last milk from the ewe’s udders and retrieved the bucket before giving the sheep a pat to send her trotting across the pasture.Then she sat there for a moment, gazing up at the sky, where low morning clouds made a soft gray blanket that would dissolve away by midday.
Staring into the heavens, she made up her mind.She was going to let him go, set him free.In fact, she’d unleash him right now.
It was risky, she thought as she made her way back to the cottage.Once he was loose, he could physically hurt her, or he could run out of her life forever.
But she didn’t think he’d do either.He’d had ample opportunity to do her and Kimbery harm, and he’d done nothing.Nor did he seem the kind of man to leave women to fend for themselves.There was no question in Avril’s mind that he was a man of conscience, that she could trust him.
Now that she’d made that decision, she couldn’t reach the cottage quickly enough.
When Avril left to milk the ewe, Brandr realized he didn’t have much time.He began working on Kimbery at once.
“How would you like to play Fenrir, Kimmie?”he asked, licking his lips, hoping his ploy would work.
Kimbery played coy.“Maybe.”
“You can be Fenrir.And I’ll be Tyr, Fenrir’s loyal friend.”
The little girl hesitated, swaying indecisively for a moment.Then she dropped to all fours on the floor and began snapping her teeth together, pretending to be a ferocious wolf.
He spoke in the growling voice of Tyr.“You’re so strong, Fenrir, stronger than any other god.I wonder if you’re strong enough to break one of those sticks in two.”He nodded to the kindling near the hearth.
Kimbery snarled and picked up a twig in her jaws, then took it out with her hands and broke it.
He gasped in feigned awe.“I wonder if you’re strong enough to pick up that sword and bring it here all by yourself.”
Kimbery hesitated at that and sat back on her heels.“Mama said wee lasses aren’t supposed to touch her sword.”
