doing.” He touched a finger to her cut lip. Gazed at the blood spotting his finger. “We all have to survive this world in the best way we can. You’re not a stupid woman and believe it or not, it’s more than lust. I’ve always cared for you.”
Survival. That’s what everything came down to in the end. How could she judge Hal for drawing his moral lines in a slightly different place to her own? Refusing his marriage offer would buy her time, for now.
“I don’t deserve your kindness, Hal. Let me think about this.” She raised her face to his. “You know I’ll do the right thing. Just give me time.”
Hal stooped for his gloves. Donned them with careful deliberation. “One month,” he said and reached out to touch her hair. Another jolt of awareness. Tig frantically filled her mind with images of a prize pig her father had once walked all the way to the market at Arminet. Hal let out a burst of laughter.
“And after all that effort, it was stolen from under his nose.” Hal shook his head and hauled himself up onto the wagon. “Don’t be the fool your father was,” he said by way of a parting shot. “We’re survivors, me and you. That’s why we’re still alive. And why we’ll still be alive when the others are dead. In a month, then.” He touched two fingers to his head in salute. An astute man who knew when to push, when to withdraw and regroup.
Tig watched the cart trundle across the yard and out onto the dirt road. The dogs nudged her impatiently for attention, and food. In the sky, clouds darkened, ready to unleash another spring deluge onto the winter-hard earth. A week’s worth of work for a jar of oil and two bags of flour? Existence didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Shit!” she muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.” What the hell to do now?
One of the dogs had her shirt-tail firmly gripped in its jaws, tugging her towards the shed where the dog-biscuits were stored. “Sorry,” she said, pushing it away. “Got to make them last. Go hunt!” she ordered, followed by two clicks of her tongue. “Go catch yourselves something.”
They left, reluctantly, stopping and looking back occasionally to see if she would follow. She waved them on. No time for play today.
She entered the house distracted by the desire to act but with no idea how to solve her immediate problems. She found Fabian lurking behind the door.
“Oh god in the heavens! How long have you been there?” Quickly, she stepped away biting her tongue to stop herself venting her anger and frustration on this man who claimed to have fallen out of nowhere, just, it seemed, to further complicate her already complicated life. “I told you to stay in the attic,” she said, quieter now she noticed the concern on Fabian’s face. “Hal knew I was hiding something. We mustn’t give him any more reason to come snooping.”
Fabian’s expression turned dark at the mention of Hal’s name. “I did not like the way he spoke to you. You will not marry that man.”
“No.” That much they agreed on. “I won’t marry him anytime soon. But it may come to that.”
“He spoke of a leadership challenge. I have good hearing,” Fabian added at her look of surprise.
“Then you know my ex is dead?”
“Yes. This Warrington, the new leader. What kind of man is he?”
No words of sympathy for her swollen lip? She moved to the sink and pumped water into a bowl. Took a cloth and cleaned her lip while she talked. “He’s like all new leaders, I should think.”
“Then he will want to make his mark early on. Reward his supporters and flush out his enemies. Some will rise, some fall. Fortunes will be made. Heads will roll.”
“You know your tyranny. I’m impressed.” She handed Fabian a pot of salve, unable to resist fishing for a little sympathy. “Dab a little on the cut. Hard to see what I’m doing without a mirror.”
Still, he didn’t comment. Fabian’s only reaction to her pain was a softening around the eyes when she
Survival. That’s what everything came down to in the end. How could she judge Hal for drawing his moral lines in a slightly different place to her own? Refusing his marriage offer would buy her time, for now.
“I don’t deserve your kindness, Hal. Let me think about this.” She raised her face to his. “You know I’ll do the right thing. Just give me time.”
Hal stooped for his gloves. Donned them with careful deliberation. “One month,” he said and reached out to touch her hair. Another jolt of awareness. Tig frantically filled her mind with images of a prize pig her father had once walked all the way to the market at Arminet. Hal let out a burst of laughter.
“And after all that effort, it was stolen from under his nose.” Hal shook his head and hauled himself up onto the wagon. “Don’t be the fool your father was,” he said by way of a parting shot. “We’re survivors, me and you. That’s why we’re still alive. And why we’ll still be alive when the others are dead. In a month, then.” He touched two fingers to his head in salute. An astute man who knew when to push, when to withdraw and regroup.
Tig watched the cart trundle across the yard and out onto the dirt road. The dogs nudged her impatiently for attention, and food. In the sky, clouds darkened, ready to unleash another spring deluge onto the winter-hard earth. A week’s worth of work for a jar of oil and two bags of flour? Existence didn’t even begin to cover it.
“Shit!” she muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.” What the hell to do now?
One of the dogs had her shirt-tail firmly gripped in its jaws, tugging her towards the shed where the dog-biscuits were stored. “Sorry,” she said, pushing it away. “Got to make them last. Go hunt!” she ordered, followed by two clicks of her tongue. “Go catch yourselves something.”
They left, reluctantly, stopping and looking back occasionally to see if she would follow. She waved them on. No time for play today.
She entered the house distracted by the desire to act but with no idea how to solve her immediate problems. She found Fabian lurking behind the door.
“Oh god in the heavens! How long have you been there?” Quickly, she stepped away biting her tongue to stop herself venting her anger and frustration on this man who claimed to have fallen out of nowhere, just, it seemed, to further complicate her already complicated life. “I told you to stay in the attic,” she said, quieter now she noticed the concern on Fabian’s face. “Hal knew I was hiding something. We mustn’t give him any more reason to come snooping.”
Fabian’s expression turned dark at the mention of Hal’s name. “I did not like the way he spoke to you. You will not marry that man.”
“No.” That much they agreed on. “I won’t marry him anytime soon. But it may come to that.”
“He spoke of a leadership challenge. I have good hearing,” Fabian added at her look of surprise.
“Then you know my ex is dead?”
“Yes. This Warrington, the new leader. What kind of man is he?”
No words of sympathy for her swollen lip? She moved to the sink and pumped water into a bowl. Took a cloth and cleaned her lip while she talked. “He’s like all new leaders, I should think.”
“Then he will want to make his mark early on. Reward his supporters and flush out his enemies. Some will rise, some fall. Fortunes will be made. Heads will roll.”
“You know your tyranny. I’m impressed.” She handed Fabian a pot of salve, unable to resist fishing for a little sympathy. “Dab a little on the cut. Hard to see what I’m doing without a mirror.”
Still, he didn’t comment. Fabian’s only reaction to her pain was a softening around the eyes when she
Similar Books
