Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
He watched her body sigh in relief. Though she had no voice, his wife spoke to him in so many other ways; the movement of her body, the expression in her eyes, her gestures that had become like a second language to him. They all forged a voice more powerful than any she could speak, and he often told her that she talked too much, which always brought a smile to her face.
“You would do well to sleep on your side tonight. You do most times anyway since you sleep against me.”
He loved sleeping wrapped around her, loved exploring her beautiful body with his hands or his lips. Loved how eagerly she responded and how much joy and pleasure they shared making love.
He felt his shaft begin to stir and hurried to chase the suggestive thoughts away. Now was not the time to dwell on such things, but it was difficult not to since thoughts of making love to his wife often entered his mind. He pushed the stirring thoughts away and just finished placing a clean cloth beneath her head when Olwen returned, a rap at the door sounding before she entered.
She carried a bucket and a sizeable sack and placed the bucket by the bed for Cree. She then got busy emptying the sack. Clean cloths came first, a crock of honey followed, and she pulled a smaller sack out. She removed the few items that she set on the table against the wall to the right of the bed.
“Meat, cheese, bread,” she said, unwrapping a cloth that held the food after placing it on the table. “I will fetch you some wine. It will help your wife sleep.”
Olwen left before Cree could stop her.
“She is fast for an elderly woman,” Cree said and slipped his hand under his wife to adjust her more comfortably in the bed. “Are you hungry, Dawn?”
She tapped his hand twice.
“Maybe later,” he said, worried that she did not want to eat, not even a small bite of something since it had been sunrise when they had last eaten.
With a tender touch, he turned Dawn onto her side and placed a pillow behind her back to keep her rested there. Then he got the crock of honey and spread a generous amount on the wound to help heal and seal it.
“Once we return home, Elsa can see to you,” he said, wishing his healer was here now. He gathered the dirty cloths in a pile and left the wet ones in the bucket with the dirty water. He soaked a clean cloth in the fresh bucket of water, rinsed it and placed it over his wife’s brow. “Hopefully this will ease your pain some.”
He watched her body sigh for a second time, and it was only a short time later that his wife’s gentle breathing told him she was asleep.
Olwen returned as promised with wine and tankards.
“Did you leave your horse out in front of the keep?” Olwen asked.
“I did. Is he not safe there? Is there a place I can shelter him for the night?” Cree asked, his concern turning to his stallion.
“The wolves are active when the mist is heavy.”
“They come into the village?” he asked, surprised and alarmed at the prospect of such danger to the clan.
“They have on occasion. There is a stable to the right of the keep when you are facing it. He will be safe there. I can take you to the front door now if you’d like and wait to escort you back here, so you do not get lost.”
Cree was good with direction and could easily find his way, but Olwen seemed anxious, and he was eager to get his horse to safety after learning that wolves might prowl the village.
He went to his wife and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. He did not like leaving her here alone in a strange keep even for a short while, and he intended to hurry and finish the chore.
“Lead the way,” Cree said, keeping focused on his surroundings so he could better understand the layout of the keep and learn to maneuver it himself.
Once at the front door, Olwen opened it a sliver and mist rushed in as if waiting to gain entrance.
“Hurry and be done, my lord,” Olwen said anxiously and reached for a torch in a metal sconce attached to the stone wall. “It grows late, and the mist will thicken with the night.” She opened the door wide enough for him to step out and handed him the torch.
He had never heard that before, but she was more familiar with this part of the Highlands than he was.
He stepped out the door and stopped to ask, “What clan has been so generous to me and my wife?”
“Clan MacMadadh,” she said softly as she closed the door.