Page 10 of To Hunt a Ruby Remedy

“I can use the node outside the cottage.” He opened the door. “In fact, I’ll get more done outside. It will be easier to focus.”

He left.

I stared at the glass cube sitting untouched on the table and prayed that Grandmother Molle returned to the cottage soon.

I had already eaten by the time Ranulf returned. Hoping that maybe he’d work on my charm that afternoon if I didn’t bother him, I retreated to the guest room. I knew that if I stayed near him, I’d give in to the urge to talk and ask him questions.

I tried to do as he had said earlier and rest, but idleness was not in my nature. I tidied, instead. The guest room doubled as a makeshift apothecary, as far as I could tell, and while everything was clearly labeled, it wasn’t organized.

I looked over everything carefully before moving the first jar. I didn’t want to ruin a system I didn’t understand, but I felt confident in my assessment that there wasn’t a system. Jars of the same ingredients dotted the shelves in multiple locations. A newer batch of one tincture had clearly been opened before the last batch had been finished. I couldn’t understand how the same person who had labeled everything so meticulously could stand to shove everything on the shelves with no rhyme or reason.

Perhaps it was due to the influence of two different people.

If I was going to organize, I might as well clean, too. I pulled the jars and bottles off the shelves and wiped everything down as best I could with the supplies I had in the room. I kept my movements as quiet as possible, not daring to let Ranulf hear even so much as the clink of glass on wood.

I had just finished, and was wondering if I should mention the supplies I had discovered that were labeled as past their use-by date or the ones that were so low another batch should probably be started, when Ranulf knocked on my door.

“Do you want supper?”

I smoothed my skirts and opened the door. “Yes, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. You’re the one who made it. I just added a bit of rabbit to the soup.” He glanced past me and spotted the wall of jars and bottles. I braced myself for a rebuke. “You did all that today?”

“I sorted alphabetically, but if there is a better system, I can do that.”

“Alphabetically is fine. I can’t believe you organized it all. I gave up years ago. Grandmother makes a mess of it faster than I can straighten. Seeing it like this might finally convince her that keeping everything organized is worth the effort.” Ranulf stepped past me into the room and went directly to one of the jars that was nearly empty. “Feverfew powder. I thought we had another jar of this. I’ll add it to the list of things to replace.”

“There are a few others you might want to add.” I pointed at a bottle that was still three-quarters full. “That one said to use by midsummer of last year, for example.”

Ranulf looked at me for a long moment. “Maybe I’ll give you the list and you can update what we need. That way, I can focus my efforts on your charm.”

“I can do that.”

We filed out of the room and sat in our usual seats at the table. For a few minutes, we ate soup and bread in silence, but it was a different silence than I had experienced with him previously. It was comfortable. Companionable, even. I decided not to break our seeming truce, though the urge to speak was strong.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Ranulf said into his half empty bowl. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. My first instinct was to apologize for bothering him, but I didn’t owe him an apology for existing. I didn’t apologize, but I was honest. “I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You aren’t . . .”

I raised an eyebrow as he trailed off. At least he had tried to reassure me, even if he couldn’t finish the sentence.

He laughed when he saw my expression, and I knew he wasn’t laughing at me, but himself. I let the sound fill me, transfixed by how it changed his entire demeanor. This wasn’t the grump who had thrown me out of the cottage or the healer who had stormed out this morning.

I had found him attractive before, but now? Now, he was devastating. Even if he hid behind a surly attitude again, I wouldn’t forget the sound of his laughter or the shape of his smile. For a moment, I thought about how fun it would be to spend my life coaxing that laugh out.

Then I remembered my mother. I was here for a few days more. Then I’d take my charm and return to my life, and Ranulf would celebrate the return of his solitude.

“All right, you are a distraction, but it isn’t your fault,” he continued. “I’m the one who can’t concentrate when there is a beautiful woman in the same room as me.”

I felt my cheeks heat and was shocked by my reaction. Men had complimented my body for years. At the tavern, they often accompanied their crude words with unwelcome touches, and my only reaction was a tight smile while I stepped out of reach. I didn’t blush at anything they said.

Being called beautiful by Ranulf felt different. He used the word so matter-of-factly that I felt almost innocent hearing it. For him, it was a truth, not something to exploit.

“I’ll stay in the guest room if that helps. I can . . .” I trailed off. What could I do in the guest room now that the healing supplies were sorted? Writing up the list of what was running low or no longer potent wouldn’t take much time.

“Considering that you accomplished a task that would have taken me days in a single afternoon, I suspect you’d be bored in there. I’m not sure what you’ll do elsewhere, either. You aren’t a maid here; you don’t have to clean everything.” He lifted his spoon. “Or cook, though I won’t object. Especially not to the bread.”

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