Page 35 of Always
I lowered my lashes to hide my mortification. How could I have been so wrong?
“I’m sorry, Felicia,” he said hoarsely.
But the distinct sound of voices nearby cut short his apology—an apology I neither wanted nor accepted. With his knife unsheathed and ready, he slowly lifted his head until he could see over the mound of earth. His face darkened, and he ducked back down.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He pressed his finger against his lips. I nodded and shivered despite the summer heat. We waited motionless in the grassy ravine for what seemed an eternity. When the voices were finally gone, Lance crawled to his knees, his keen eyes narrowing upon the surrounding area.
“Who was it?” I asked, sitting up.
“Just some children, likely from nearby Cannock.”
“Do you think they saw us or the mule or goat?”
Lance stood then, sheathed his knife, and studied the meadow and woodland in the distance. “I don’t know what they saw.” Frustration laced his voice. “I shouldn’t have dozed. I should have moved us to a safer, more private location before...”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but I could hear what he’d left unsaid:before we kissed.
“This is my fault,” I started. Normally during the day, we slept in shifts so that one of us could watch Emmeline and remain alert for signs of danger.
He shook his head. “No, it’s mine. I knew better.” I wanted him to look at me and tell me I was worth it, that he loved me, too, regardless of the peril, that we’d weather it together. But his hardened warrior demeanor fell into place. “Don’t worry. I won’t let it happen again.”
My heart squeezed with the pain of his rejection.
“We need to go now,” he said. “Just in case the children saw us.”
When he stooped to pick Emmeline and me up, I resisted with a push against his chest. “Do not touch me.”
He quickly pulled back, hurt flitting through his eyes. But I was too hurt myself to acknowledge it. Instead, I situated Emmeline in the sling before fastening my shoes. My blistered feet ached at the confinement, but the salve and bandages had eased my discomfort.
I followed him to an area nearby where the mule and goat had fed to their heart’s content and now rested in the shade. Again, Lance reached for me to lift me onto the mule, but I stepped away from him. “I shall do it myself.”
Shadows darted across his face, but he allowed me to situate myself. Once I was astride, he regarded me with pursed lips, clearly waiting for me to look at him. But I refused to acknowledge him and instead stared straight ahead.
“Felicia,” he finally said, his tone low and raw. “As a warrior, I cannot allow myself to feel for you—”
“Say no more,” I cut him off. “You have made apparent enough the fact that you need no one but yourself.”
He watched me a moment longer, opened his mouth as though to speak again, but closed it and grabbed the animals’ lead ropes. He shouldered our pack of dwindling supplies before moving forward, his strides swift in spite of his cane and injury.
We followed the brook south for the rest of the morning, and Lance was more alert than usual, constantly scanning the area as though he’d expected the children to run back to town and report our presence. After traveling a considerable distance, we found a spot to hide for the remainder of the day before setting off once again at eventide.
The grassy meadows with a few trees gradually changed, growing ever denser until we were surrounded by a display of trees such as I had never before seen. Some were evergreens stretching to touch the sky with their pointed tips. Others were hardwoods of oak, maple, birch, and many I couldn’t name.
Moss climbed up trunks, and pale lichen spread in abandon on branches. Clumps of colorful wildflowers blossomed in grassy spots. As we moved continually inward, the brush of nettles and elders thickened, making the way more difficult and overgrown.
When we halted at dusk to water the mule and goat, I walked a short distance away to a secluded spot beneath the low-hanging branches of a spruce. In this refuge, I sank into the soft scattering of pine needles with Emmeline to change and feed her.
Through the cover of branches, I watched Lance care for the animals, grateful for my position where I could stare at him unabashed without him realizing it. He tossed a glance over his shoulder as though sensing my gaze, but through the thickness of brush and leaves, I knew he couldn’t tell I was staring—at least I prayed so.
No matter how hard I’d tried over the past hours to stay angry with him and to stop caring for him, I could do neither. The painful fact remained: I’d fallen in love with him and could no more stop that love than I could cease breathing.
The love had developed gradually and softly over so many days and through so many conversations, that it had finally come out whether I’d wanted it to or not. Now it would be a constant reminder of how I’d somehow failed to earn his love in return.
Lance stared downriver, cocking his ear and sniffing the air. “Men are coming,” he called to me. “Stay hidden until they pass.”
I scooted farther into the shadows, my chest tightening and a tired, dull ache pounding in my head. “Will you not hide with me?”
