Page 8 of Obeying the Orc
To my astonishment, staring into Natalee’s eyes helped ease my discomfort considerably.
“My wife, Emalise, was a quiet and terribly shy human female,” I began. “The first few times I met her, she stuttered so badly that I didn’t understand her. But she intrigued me. I knew she wasn’t dull and saw the intelligence glimmering in her eyes, and it wasn’t long before I set out to court her. We had three years of marriage together before she passed away during childbirth, the babe too.” Strangely, my chest didn’t ache as hard as it usually did when I thought of Emalise. The only time I’d spoken of her since arriving in Faircross was the time I’d gotten drunk at the tavern. That was different.
“And you came here right away after that happened?” Sympathy shone in Natalee’s eyes, and she reached as if to touch my shoulder, then retracted her hand and sat awkwardly across from me, as if she wished to comfort me but didn’t know if it was appropriate. We had just met, after all.
“Yes. I stayed only long enough for the funeral, then I packed a bag and headed for the nearest port. When I heard a ship was about to leave for Black Dragon Island, I booked passage and eventually ended up here in Faircross. I saw ads for the claims available in Faircross while I was staying in Orsleann,” I said, referring to the capital city and main port of the wild island. “Well, I saw ads for claims in many different places, but I picked Faircross for its isolation and small population.”
“Then you struck it rich very soon after arriving, is that correct?” Natalee looked alarmed for a second and her eyes briefly darted away from me, before she returned her gaze to mine and offered a sheepish grin. “Apologies if I seem to be prying. It’s just that Mrs. Foxthorne mentioned your name the other day. Before we met in the mercantile. I was only curious if the rumors about you were true.”
I smiled at her in hopes of relieving her tension, and it seemed to work, because her shoulders relaxed, and she eventually stopped twirling the blade of grass madly between her fingers. “It’s true that I struck it rich only a week after arriving at my claim. Then I had the cabin built on my claim and I’ve been hiding out there, only coming to town when I need supplies. But…” I paused for a moment. “I wasn’t terribly short on supplies this time. I came because I was… lonely.”
“Perhaps that’s a good sign, Knot. Perhaps the gods are moving you in a new direction. Surely, you aren’t meant to hide out on a mountain for the rest of your life, all by yourself. I’m not saying you should move into town and become the priest, not if you don’t feel moved to do so, but you shouldn’t be alone.” She blinked back a sheen of moisture that had formed in her eyes. “I stayed in the shack on our claim for about two weeks after Logan died. It was terrible, being alone. Frightening, too. Every strange noise I heard in the night terrified me. When the Foxthornes offered to take me in and allow me to live with them in Faircross, I was overjoyed.”
I frowned when I recalled the scornful look Mrs. Foxthorne had given me in the mercantile, along with her little judgmental speech. “Do the Foxthornes treat you kindly enough, Natalee?”
When she hesitated to answer, my heart sank.
“Natalee?”
She started blinking quickly again, and after gulping hard, she said, “Of course they treat me kindly enough. No one else in town offered to take me in. Despite Mrs. Foxthorne’s occasional grumpiness, they are good people, I assure you.”
I didn’t believe her, but I didn’t want to call her out as a liar so soon in our acquaintanceship. Instead, I eyed the sky. There was no sign of Dhomyss, but I noticed dark clouds forming overhead. “It appears it’s going to rain soon. May I walk you home?”
She smiled faintly and nodded. “I’d like that.”
CHAPTER5
NATALEE
I lounged in bed,snuggled under the quilts, as I replayed the conversation I’d had with Knot Thazurok during our picnic. I counted the weeks since that wonderful afternoon. Three weeks ago. I sighed with longing.
Gods, he was handsome. Those dark eyes of his made my heart go pitter patter. I’d also found myself unable to keep admiring his muscular forearms during our picnic. He had a kindly, patient manner about him, though he also possessed an air of authority that made my insides melt.
None of the males in town that Mrs. Foxthorne had introduced me to had caught my fancy in the slightest. But Mr. Thazurok—no,Knot, he’d invited me to use his given name—left me feeling flushed and all tingly inside. He’d given me the sort of delicious jitters I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Not since Logan.
Instead of experiencing a pang of sadness at the thought of my late husband, a sense of hope rushed through me. Even if I never met Knot again, though I hoped and prayed I would, at least I knew it was possible to feel an attraction to another male.
If only Mrs. Foxthorne hadn’t recently increased the pressure on me to marry. Though I helped around the house, tended the garden, and even did much of the cooking myself, I suspected I’d long worn out my welcome. Perhaps Mrs. Foxthorne wanted her days to herself. I couldn’t fault the woman. This was her home, after all.
I sat up to snuff out the lantern, but the creaking of my bedroom door being slowly opened drew my attention. I tugged the top quilt up to my neck, my heart pounding.
Neither of the Foxthornes were normally awake at this late hour.
Was something wrong?
A male figure crept into my bedroom and shut the door. Before he turned around, I recognized Mr. Foxthorne by his shoulder-length white hair. When he finally spun and met my gaze, the leering look he wore made my stomach twist with apprehension.
“Mr. Foxthorne? Sir? Is something wrong with Mrs. Foxthorne?”
“She’s faaaast asleep. Took some elixxxxir for a baaaad headache. I doubt she’ll be waking anytime soooooon.”
“Well, I hope she feels better in the morning.” I could barely get the words out and maintain a semblance of calm. My heart beat faster. He sounded quite drunk.
Why in the starfields was he in my room?
He smiled, a scheming smile, and stumbled over to my bed, where he plopped down on the edge, sitting far too close for comfort. All at once, every odd and lingering look he’d given me came rushing back. I scooted away and clutched the covers tighter at my neck. The scent of whiskey reached me, deepening my fear. Yes, he was most definitely drunk beyond good sense.
