Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Varrick sensed she was not telling him all of it, but now was not the time to pursue it. The problem needed their attention. He would question her later about it.
“I agree since it feels like more snow may fall soon,” Varrick said.
“Watch for the size of the snowflakes,” Fia said, offering a lesson on the ways of nature. “Large snowflakes let us know a thaw is on the way, whereas small ones bring the cold and more snow.”
Varrick listened with interest, aware of some things she informed him of but not all.
“The forest has so much to tell us, to teach us, if we would just listen. Once you learn its secrets, it will help guide you.”
“Tell me one of its secrets,” Varrick asked, finding her knowledge as attractive as her beauty.
Fia smiled, pleased that he was interested and placed her hand on the rough bark of a nearby tree. “See how heavily grooved this bark is? That tells me that this tree has not rushed to maturity but has been patient and taken its time and in doing so has gained much knowledge of its home.”
“What knowledge?” he continued to ask, watching how gentle her touch was, as if comforting an old friend, and he was surprised to feel a pang of jealousy. It was only a tree and yet he preferred that she touch him with her gentleness and caring nature.
“Many things,” she said eagerly. “The side the bark is the darkest on a tree lets you know that it points north. Tree roots grow thicker and more substantial on the side where the wind blows at it the most, protecting itself from getting felled by a strong wind. And the tree leaves tell us much—” She stopped, her brow wrinkling, as if she were hearing something.
Varrick remained silent, watching her. Everyone learned some of nature and its cycles. It was necessary for survival in the Highlands, but Fia’s knowledge went beyond that, and he found what she shared with him remarkable. It also made him wonder if such significant knowledge could have caused her to be marked as a witch.
“The tree’s slumber is deeper than usual, but I sense no illness, nothing that tells me why she is in such a deep sleep. It is puzzling,” Fia said, her brow remaining wrinkled as she wrapped her cloak more tightly around her.
“You are cold,” Varrick said, going to her and pulling her hood up that had slipped off her head and ordered, “We return to the shelter.”
“Not yet,” she urged, her smile tender as she hooked her arm with his. “It will snow soon enough. We can return then.”
What was it about her that he usually relented and let her have her way? Was it the way her fine features never failed to captivate him, like now, her cheeks pinched pink from the cold or the way her dark eyes seemed to spark with delight when something pleased her? Or was it her rosy lips that he forever ached to kiss?
He almost shook his head confused by thoughts he never imagined he would have of her. Where had they come from and why was he wasting time on this? He needed to focus on what was important.
She is important.
The thought startled him, and he grew annoyed with himself. She needed to know he was in command or was it he who needed to remind himself?
“Not much longer,” he ordered, his tongue sharper than he intended.
“As you say.”
The delight in her voice and gentle smile on her face had a smile of his own rushing to the surface, but he quashed it before it got the chance to show. All too often lately, he found that she forced a smile from him, not that he let it surface. Was he that pleased with her that she made him smile?
Bewitched.
She had to have bewitched him. Why else would he feel like this? Why else would she not leave his thoughts? Why else did he want her forever by his side? He shook his head at the maddening thoughts that would not leave him alone. He was not some young lad allowing himself to be befuddled by a woman, let alone a witch. He commanded his clan, and he commanded her, and he would have it no other way.
She suddenly left his side and walked a short distance away to ease herself down to look at something in the snow.
“What have you found?” he asked as he walked over to her.
“A single footprint,” she said, puzzled.
Varrick joined her, crouching down to have a look. It was as she said, a single footprint and distinct.
Fia shook her head. “It is not very large, yet it is too large to belong to a child and too small to belong to either of the men the hell hounds got.”