Viking: Legends of the North: A Limited Edition Boxed Set by Tanya Anne Crosby, Miriam Minger, Shelly Thacker, Glynnis Campbell Page B
Tags: Historical Romance
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be able to do a damned thing to protect her.
He was cursed. Misfortune befell anyone who got close to him. As much as his heart ached with the desire to stay, as much as he knew he’d be hurled back into his familiar pit of despair if he left, he knew the only answer was to ignore the bittersweet yearning in his soul, turn his back on her—on both of them, and go.
Chapter 10
Avril swept through the seagrass toward the bleating ewe, a stool under one arm and her milk bucket bouncing against her thigh. She felt as light as thistledown atop a bubbling stream. She didn’t have all the details worked out, but she knew that sparing Brandr’s life was the right decision.
He was a decent man. Maybe he was a Viking, and maybe he’d come as an invader, but he’d shown her nothing but humanity, courtesy, and kindness, in spite of her hostility. He’d seen to Kimbery’s cut and kept her from harm by telling her stories. He’d saved Avril from fire and feared for her welfare when she’d confronted her neighbor. It was obvious he felt protective of them.
Did he feel something more? Her heart fluttered at the possibility, and she grew slightly giddy, remembering the way he’d looked at her just now, not only with relief and gratitude, but with a sweet sort of devotion.
She couldn’t help but smile as she pushed through the gate and closed it behind her. Plopping the stool down next to Caimbeul, she seated herself. She rested her palm on the animal’s flank and set the bucket under the sheep’s belly. As she milked the ewe, she daydreamed.
What if Brandr stayed here with her, with them? He had nowhere else to go, after all. His men hadn’t shown up. He was a stranger in her land. He was a castaway, stranded here with no means of survival. She could offer him a roof over his head, food, safety…and perhaps something more.
She leaned her brow against the sheep’s woolly side and closed her eyes.
What if the attraction she felt for him grew into genuine love? Could he be a father for Kimbery? And—she dared to imagine—could he be a husband to her?
Three days ago, she would have thought it impossible. Now it seemed not only possible, but right. After all, they were both castoffs, exiled from their people. It seemed natural and fitting to seek comfort in each other’s company.
She squeezed the last milk from the ewe’s udders and retrieved the bucket before giving the sheep a pat to send her trotting across the pasture. Then she sat there for a moment, gazing up at the sky, where low morning clouds made a soft gray blanket that would dissolve away by midday.
Staring into the heavens, she made up her mind. She was going to let him go, set him free. In fact, she’d unleash him right now.
It was risky, she thought as she made her way back to the cottage. Once he was loose, he could physically hurt her, or he could run out of her life forever.
But she didn’t think he’d do either. He’d had ample opportunity to do her and Kimbery harm, and he’d done nothing. Nor did he seem the kind of man to leave women to fend for themselves. There was no question in Avril’s mind that he was a man of conscience, that she could trust him.
Now that she’d made that decision, she couldn’t reach the cottage quickly enough.
When Avril left to milk the ewe, Brandr realized he didn’t have much time. He began working on Kimbery at once.
“How would you like to play Fenrir, Kimmie?” he asked, licking his lips, hoping his ploy would work.
Kimbery played coy. “Maybe.”
“You can be Fenrir. And I’ll be Tyr, Fenrir’s loyal friend.”
The little girl hesitated, swaying indecisively for a moment. Then she dropped to all fours on the floor and began snapping her teeth together, pretending to be a ferocious wolf.
He spoke in the growling voice of Tyr. “You’re so strong, Fenrir, stronger than any other god. I wonder if you’re strong enough to break one of those sticks in two.” He nodded to the
He was cursed. Misfortune befell anyone who got close to him. As much as his heart ached with the desire to stay, as much as he knew he’d be hurled back into his familiar pit of despair if he left, he knew the only answer was to ignore the bittersweet yearning in his soul, turn his back on her—on both of them, and go.
Chapter 10
Avril swept through the seagrass toward the bleating ewe, a stool under one arm and her milk bucket bouncing against her thigh. She felt as light as thistledown atop a bubbling stream. She didn’t have all the details worked out, but she knew that sparing Brandr’s life was the right decision.
He was a decent man. Maybe he was a Viking, and maybe he’d come as an invader, but he’d shown her nothing but humanity, courtesy, and kindness, in spite of her hostility. He’d seen to Kimbery’s cut and kept her from harm by telling her stories. He’d saved Avril from fire and feared for her welfare when she’d confronted her neighbor. It was obvious he felt protective of them.
Did he feel something more? Her heart fluttered at the possibility, and she grew slightly giddy, remembering the way he’d looked at her just now, not only with relief and gratitude, but with a sweet sort of devotion.
She couldn’t help but smile as she pushed through the gate and closed it behind her. Plopping the stool down next to Caimbeul, she seated herself. She rested her palm on the animal’s flank and set the bucket under the sheep’s belly. As she milked the ewe, she daydreamed.
What if Brandr stayed here with her, with them? He had nowhere else to go, after all. His men hadn’t shown up. He was a stranger in her land. He was a castaway, stranded here with no means of survival. She could offer him a roof over his head, food, safety…and perhaps something more.
She leaned her brow against the sheep’s woolly side and closed her eyes.
What if the attraction she felt for him grew into genuine love? Could he be a father for Kimbery? And—she dared to imagine—could he be a husband to her?
Three days ago, she would have thought it impossible. Now it seemed not only possible, but right. After all, they were both castoffs, exiled from their people. It seemed natural and fitting to seek comfort in each other’s company.
She squeezed the last milk from the ewe’s udders and retrieved the bucket before giving the sheep a pat to send her trotting across the pasture. Then she sat there for a moment, gazing up at the sky, where low morning clouds made a soft gray blanket that would dissolve away by midday.
Staring into the heavens, she made up her mind. She was going to let him go, set him free. In fact, she’d unleash him right now.
It was risky, she thought as she made her way back to the cottage. Once he was loose, he could physically hurt her, or he could run out of her life forever.
But she didn’t think he’d do either. He’d had ample opportunity to do her and Kimbery harm, and he’d done nothing. Nor did he seem the kind of man to leave women to fend for themselves. There was no question in Avril’s mind that he was a man of conscience, that she could trust him.
Now that she’d made that decision, she couldn’t reach the cottage quickly enough.
When Avril left to milk the ewe, Brandr realized he didn’t have much time. He began working on Kimbery at once.
“How would you like to play Fenrir, Kimmie?” he asked, licking his lips, hoping his ploy would work.
Kimbery played coy. “Maybe.”
“You can be Fenrir. And I’ll be Tyr, Fenrir’s loyal friend.”
The little girl hesitated, swaying indecisively for a moment. Then she dropped to all fours on the floor and began snapping her teeth together, pretending to be a ferocious wolf.
He spoke in the growling voice of Tyr. “You’re so strong, Fenrir, stronger than any other god. I wonder if you’re strong enough to break one of those sticks in two.” He nodded to the
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