your message fall into the wrong hands.”
“You’d better hope not.”
Chapter 17
After Feanna peeled the eggplants, she set them near the fire to cook. Her knees started to ache, and she pulled over a crate and sat on it. Rogan returned from the barn alone carrying Gavin’s sword, studying it as he walked. “It looks like a fine weapon,” she said.
“Yeh. I’ve never seen the like before. Makes me yearn to be ten years younger and twenty stones lighter.” Rogan patted his belly with a grin. He squatted beside her. “Listen, I know Liera’s been harpin’ on you to meet my brother,” he said in a low voice, “and she means well — for both o’you.” He cast a glance at his wife, perhaps to make sure she was occupied and outside of his hearing. “I thought she was bein’ meddlesome, but this time, she might be right. Don’t tell her I said so.”
Feanna felt a familiar warmth spread across her face. “Rogan, not you too!”
“I got a buzz in my ear sayin’ Gavin wants to court you. His life is complicated, though. Make sure he tells you everything afore you accept. Unless you ain’t interested. If that’s the case, let him down easy, eh? He may look big and tough, but he’s got a tender heart.” Rogan chuckled, patted Feanna’s shoulder and continued toward the house.
Watching Rogan walk away, Feanna considered his words. She’d always liked Rogan, perhaps once or twice wished her husband had been more like him. She’d known the Kinshields for all the seven years she’d lived in her home and thought them lovely people, good, hardworking, honest and caring. Their boys were well-mannered and obedient, and last spring helped sow her field. If Gavin was anything like his brother, she could do worse. Much worse. Still, she wondered how interested a warrant knight would be in taking vows and raising a family. Liera had told her about Gavin’s murdered wife and daughter. With those sorts of memories in his head, how could he forfeit a nomadic life free of responsibilities to start fresh?
Just as Daia returned on her horse, riding it directly into the barn, Gavin came out with his huge, gray warhorse in tow. The animal had been handsome dressed in its leather armor, but now, bareback with mane flowing free, he was magnificent. Leading the animal into the fenced pasture, Gavin called, “Jaesh,” and waved. His deep voice carried easily across the distance.
Jaesh, who’d been kneeling with Trevick and Asiawyth beside a tub while they scrubbed the pig skin, stood and waved back. “Can I, Papa?” Jaesh asked.
“Go on,” Rogan said. “You been waiting long enough for this.”
Jaesh wiped his hands, ducked between the wooden fence rails and ran to where his uncle stood waiting. In his hand, Gavin carried a pair of toy swords. They talked for a moment before he gave Jaesh a boost onto the gray’s back.
She watched them practicing in the pasture. Now and then, the warhorse tossed his head to loosen the reins and bent to nibble the grass. Gavin patiently took him by the bridle and lifted his head, but as soon as the horse quit chewing, down he would go for another mouthful.
Daia came over and sat beside her. There must have been something different about her that stimulated Feanna’s skill, for immediately, Feanna felt her emotions without touching her or shifting . Daia watched Gavin with a mixture of concern, affection and admiration. “Is there something I can help with?” she asked.
“Thank you for offering, but I think we have it in hand.” Feanna stole glances at the swordswoman, unable to get over how muscular she was. If not for her breasts and the sparsity of hair on her arms, she might have been taken for a man. Feanna wondered how Daia managed to ride for hours on a horse. Didn’t her breasts get awfully tender from all the bumping? With a bolder look, Feanna saw the outline of corset laces in the front of Daia’s tunic.
“Do you live nearby?” Daia asked her.
“Yes,
“You’d better hope not.”
Chapter 17
After Feanna peeled the eggplants, she set them near the fire to cook. Her knees started to ache, and she pulled over a crate and sat on it. Rogan returned from the barn alone carrying Gavin’s sword, studying it as he walked. “It looks like a fine weapon,” she said.
“Yeh. I’ve never seen the like before. Makes me yearn to be ten years younger and twenty stones lighter.” Rogan patted his belly with a grin. He squatted beside her. “Listen, I know Liera’s been harpin’ on you to meet my brother,” he said in a low voice, “and she means well — for both o’you.” He cast a glance at his wife, perhaps to make sure she was occupied and outside of his hearing. “I thought she was bein’ meddlesome, but this time, she might be right. Don’t tell her I said so.”
Feanna felt a familiar warmth spread across her face. “Rogan, not you too!”
“I got a buzz in my ear sayin’ Gavin wants to court you. His life is complicated, though. Make sure he tells you everything afore you accept. Unless you ain’t interested. If that’s the case, let him down easy, eh? He may look big and tough, but he’s got a tender heart.” Rogan chuckled, patted Feanna’s shoulder and continued toward the house.
Watching Rogan walk away, Feanna considered his words. She’d always liked Rogan, perhaps once or twice wished her husband had been more like him. She’d known the Kinshields for all the seven years she’d lived in her home and thought them lovely people, good, hardworking, honest and caring. Their boys were well-mannered and obedient, and last spring helped sow her field. If Gavin was anything like his brother, she could do worse. Much worse. Still, she wondered how interested a warrant knight would be in taking vows and raising a family. Liera had told her about Gavin’s murdered wife and daughter. With those sorts of memories in his head, how could he forfeit a nomadic life free of responsibilities to start fresh?
Just as Daia returned on her horse, riding it directly into the barn, Gavin came out with his huge, gray warhorse in tow. The animal had been handsome dressed in its leather armor, but now, bareback with mane flowing free, he was magnificent. Leading the animal into the fenced pasture, Gavin called, “Jaesh,” and waved. His deep voice carried easily across the distance.
Jaesh, who’d been kneeling with Trevick and Asiawyth beside a tub while they scrubbed the pig skin, stood and waved back. “Can I, Papa?” Jaesh asked.
“Go on,” Rogan said. “You been waiting long enough for this.”
Jaesh wiped his hands, ducked between the wooden fence rails and ran to where his uncle stood waiting. In his hand, Gavin carried a pair of toy swords. They talked for a moment before he gave Jaesh a boost onto the gray’s back.
She watched them practicing in the pasture. Now and then, the warhorse tossed his head to loosen the reins and bent to nibble the grass. Gavin patiently took him by the bridle and lifted his head, but as soon as the horse quit chewing, down he would go for another mouthful.
Daia came over and sat beside her. There must have been something different about her that stimulated Feanna’s skill, for immediately, Feanna felt her emotions without touching her or shifting . Daia watched Gavin with a mixture of concern, affection and admiration. “Is there something I can help with?” she asked.
“Thank you for offering, but I think we have it in hand.” Feanna stole glances at the swordswoman, unable to get over how muscular she was. If not for her breasts and the sparsity of hair on her arms, she might have been taken for a man. Feanna wondered how Daia managed to ride for hours on a horse. Didn’t her breasts get awfully tender from all the bumping? With a bolder look, Feanna saw the outline of corset laces in the front of Daia’s tunic.
“Do you live nearby?” Daia asked her.
“Yes,
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