Page 65 of Tiger's Trek
Danik appeared just then, carrying what looked like a huge copper bowl. It was even larger than the stone dish the old woman had taken with her. The thing barely fit through the closet door.
“Think it’ll do?” he asked. “The house thought it might.”
“I’ll make it work,” Veru said, eyeing the large pot. “What on earth do you think she used this for?”
“No idea. It’s heavy though. Had its own stirring spoon, but I left it in the secret cupboard. Apparently, the house is full of them. Didn’t think you’d need the stirring rod since you’re not making soup of yourself. Here. Brought you some salts and soaps. Choose what you like while I bring out the water.”
Danik brought out pails full of steaming water from the cauldron inside and tried arranging the dried blankets still hanging on the porch to give her a semblance of privacy. She shooed him away and fixed them herself, almost creating a private room on the porch. The last thing he did before adding just one bucket of cold water to offset the hot was to set a clean blanket on the little stool next to the tub so she could dry off.
Stripping off her now worn and torn blue gossamer dress, Veru gingerly stepped into the steaming bath and sank down as low as she could. It wasn’t nearly as roomy as her old tub back home, but it was large enough to at least get her limbs wet, so she commenced scrubbing herself clean. She set to work right away, lathering the large cake of soap into her hair, wincing at the astringent smell, hoping it would at least stave off vermin and insects. It certainly wasn’t the pleasant floral scent she was used to, but it would do to get her clean.
When she was finished, she dunked under the water, getting as much soap out of her hair as possible. With bubbles still dripping down her shoulders, she found herself missing her maid and wondering if she should consign herself to staying soapy, when she noticed that Danik had left her a bucket of warm, fresh water to rinse with. Grateful for his thoughtfulness, she stood in the tub and carefully poured it over her head, getting all the soap out of her hair and off her body before stepping out and wrapping the blanket around herself, using it to squeeze the excess water from her hair.
“Danik?” she called out. “I’m finished. If you want a go, it’s all yours,” she said. “I’ll bring you a fresh bucket to rinse with to return the favor.”
“That would be wonderful!” he said.
“Thanks for letting me go first,” she said, her body cocooned by the blanket. “Next time you get the first turn.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, removing his shirt and ducking around her, not even paying attention to the woman in the blanket. “I just hope the water is still warm.”
“It should be,” Veru replied.
She heard a splash and exited with her back to the tub so as not to catch a glimpse of his naked form. Her face colored as she picked up her clothes and hurried into the house. Veru’s breath froze when she entered the cottage, and she realized for the first time all day just how cold it still was inside the little home. She’d nearly forgotten. Quickly, she threw the last of their logs onto the fire and danced on the floor, hurrying to put on the knitted stockings Yuga had given her.
After she adjusted her blanket, she headed back to the summer porch and cleared her throat outside the makeshift bathing chamber.
“Um, Danik? Can you pass me the bucket so I can bring you some rinse water?”
“Here you go.”
His very wet, naked arm appeared, holding the bucket, and Veru couldn’t help herself. Her eyes trailed up the arm to his handsome face. His blond hair was dark and slicked back from his forehead. With his eyes closed, she felt braver and let her eyes drop down from his stubbly bearded cheeks and chin to his chest.
Veru had worked and sparred with many soldiers and thus had seen many chiseled male forms in various stages of dress. She’d schooled herself well to take no notice of it, and in most cases, she never did. To her, seeing a well-built male was much like seeing a well-built stallion. She appreciated such a creature and could even admire it and recognize its value, but never did it inspire feelings of lust.
With Danik, there was something different. It wasn’t that his body was particularly muscular, though he was certainly much larger in the chest than she’d anticipated. Veru had always considered him to be on the thin and lanky side, but perhaps that was more due to her having seen him through the eyes of a tiger. Any man would look small when compared to a tiger.
Where the copper tub had been sufficient to hold her legs and allow her to clean her body, it barely contained him. His long legs hung over the sides, giving her a good view of his heavy thighs. Her gaze traveled back up those legs to the dark water hiding the bits of him she couldn’t see but was somehow very curious to, and her lips parted. Veru jumped when the bucket moved against her hand, and her eyes locked with a set of stormy ocean-blue ones. She was suddenly very aware she was as naked as Danik.
As she tried to leave, he refused to let go of the pail. Once again, she felt as if she were caught in a trap, but this time she had stepped into it willingly. She could let go and hop out of the pit anytime, but there was something about this hunter; it was his voice or perhaps the way he looked at her. She kept circling him, getting closer and closer. Instinct told her it would be the death of one or both of them. Veru could almost feel the snarl of the cat tickle her throat and the claws curl her fingers. She narrowed her eyes, preparing to pounce.
Quietly, not in his musical or soothing tones, but in a voice of warning, he said, “I am not a piece of string for you to play with, little kotenok.” He let go of the bucket, and she faltered back a few steps. The blanket fell into place, shielding him from view. She stood there, silent, thinking about what he’d said. Then she heard him speak again. It was almost a whisper. She could hear the sorrow in his tone. It reminded her of when he had to kill an animal. “When a string breaks, the instrument can no longer be played.”
Veru didn’t understand. Danik thought... he thought she meant to injure him?Does he fear me?If so, why? He had called her kotenok. Perhaps he was remembering her time as a tiger. Veru had frightened off many a man in the past, that much was true. She was formidable, even deadly, when brandishing her knives, but Danik had never seen that. Or maybe she had it wrong. Maybe he thought he was going to hurt her, like he did the animals he hunted.
Whichever one it was, it was clear he wanted Veru to keep away from him. Whether it was to protect himself or her, she didn’t know. It was even possible that Danik didn’t know the reason, or didn’t remember it, but Veru didn’t think that was the case. He seemed pretty certain about his feelings. If only Veru felt as sure of her own.
Turning, she said, “I-I’ll bring you some more water.”
She hurried to ladle hot water into the bucket, adding only a bit of cold, and slid it next to his tub without another word, then sat in her chair finger-combing her wet hair, wishing for a hairbrush as hot tears slid down her face. She had meant it when she’d called him her companion. He was more of a true companion to her than Nik or even her sister had been in a long time. Danik’s quiet ways were soothing. He was kind and gentle. But perhaps her perspective had been tainted by a cat’s perspective.
Maxsim climbed in her lap and began to purr, making her wonder what his feline view of her might look like. What did he see when he glanced in her direction? A weepy, bedraggled woman? A tsarevna trying to do her best to keep herself and her hunter alive? Did he see the missing cat she’d lost? Could he know where her tiger was? How Veru could find her again?
Veru didn’t speak to Danik again that night, choosing instead to curl up in her blanket in her chair while petting Max and trying to sleep. She kept her back turned to her traveling companion. But even when his peaceful snores filled the little home, rest still eluded her.
* * *
The next morning it was Danik who woke her. Veru had a beast of a headache. Her eyes felt sticky, and it was painfully obvious to her that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her blanket. Her traveling companion, however, appeared to be in the best of spirits. He was dressed in the same clothing he’d worn the day before and somehow looked refreshed despite the fact.
