Microsoft Word - OneGoodWoman

by test

  The falls growled behind them, but the uneven voice of the sea was slowly overwhelming the noise of the cascading water. The southern bank looked miles away and already her arms were tired.

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 110

  Her arms screamed with fatigue, but she focused on the bunching and stretching of Brady’s shoulder and back muscles as he fought the river. Without her, he might have tried to swim the width and likely would have made it. He’d fashioned this log raft for her. Her presence might cost him his life.

  The water lapping against her legs appeared green and hid its depths. How deep was it?

  “Cara, stop leaning like that!” Brady shouted. “Paddle harder. We’re almost there.”

  She snapped her head up. The water had almost bespelled her into falling in head first.

  The bank was closer, and the river slowed as it neared the sea and had to fight its way into the larger body of water.

  Her back joined her arms in screaming in protest, but they were going to make it.

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 111

  Chapter Twenty

  Brady stretched his legs out toward the fire. His gun sat by his side, but he wasn’t sure he had the energy to lift it and fire it should they be attacked.

  Cara ran her fingers through her wet hair, having washed it in a calm pool along the bank of the river. His insatiable cock took notice even though every part of him ached or was just plain exhausted. Had he ever been so tired? And it wasn’t only physical fatigue.

  The entire period of time, over half a month, since he’d stepped on Oman’s cursed rope bridge had been nothing but one test for his nerves after another. And when was the last time he’d slept without his gun in hand and his mind on edge?

  But they were alive and finally away from the Savages. They should celebrate.

  “Do you think Tam and Bab will manage as leaders?” Cara paused in the tending of her hair and stirred the oats cooking near their small fire. They only had a little food left, but it should last them another two days.

  There was always the sea and its bounty, and now Brady could hunt without worry of enemies. And they could sleep together, make love whenever they wanted.

  Cara looked up from the oats and caught him staring at her. “Are you all right? Do your ribs hurt?”

  They hurt like hell as did a hundred other places. “I feel great. Only one thing could make me feel better.”

  She started pulled the roughly worked wooden comb she’d carved with her knife through her hair. “You’re in no shape for that.”

  “For

  what?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “The oats are ready. Let’s eat.”

  It didn’t take long to finish the simple meal. He could have eaten much more, but it would hold him over until the morning. Perhaps they could camp here a day or so and fish from the river while they rested and healed.

  Cara spread their blankets near the fire and put her sword by her side. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  It was more difficult to lie down than he’d expected. A cold sweat beaded on his brow before he finally settled on his back beside her.

  She leaned up on her elbow and looked down at him. “I wish there was something I could do to make you more comfortable.”

  He tugged her down so she laid her head on his shoulder.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” She put her hand gently on his chest. He’d put his shirt on against the evening chill but now he wished he hadn’t so he could feel her skin against his.

  “This is all I need to make tonight perfect. You in my arms.” And he meant it. If they never found their way home, he would be happy living as a nomad with this woman. They could drift back and forth along the coast line, hunting, fishing, making love every night ….

  “Are you asleep?”

  Her soft words woke him from his dreamy doze. “No. I was thinking.”

  “I still can’t believe we escaped.”

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  He tightened his arm around her. How terrified must she have been the entire time they were at the mercy of the Savages? “I’ve seen lots of odd things in my years as a Realm warrior, some terrible, some beautiful, but nothing as strange as that village. I guess we should learn to call them Vitans.

  “I don’t think I can. Do you really intend to go back there?”

  “Do you think if we make it home, either of us will be able to prevent our people from coming here to meet them?

  She sighed but said nothing. The warmth of her body against his and the exhaustion lying like a blanket on his body created a heaviness that weighed his eyes closed.

  “Bab thinks she loves you.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Do you think a Savage can know love?”

  “Maybe.” He tried to wake as he sensed more to her question than the words she used.

  But she said nothing more for a long time, and he drifted again towards sleep.

  “You were completely believable when you told them we were going to be married or mates or whatever it was you said to win them over. I didn’t know you could lie so well.”

  “I’m a very good liar,” he mumbled.

  “I’ll remember that.”

  Again he thought there was some meaning beneath her words, but he was too tired to be clever. They could discuss it all in the morning.

  * * * *

  Cara shook out her shirt and laid it across a bush beside both of Brady’s. Their clothing was getting a bit threadbare after so many days of steady wear and many washings. Hopefully, it wouldn’t have to last much longer.

  Brady fished not far away, standing along the river bank. The sun glinted off his dark hair, and the sea breeze lifted and played with it. He gave little heed to his broken ribs though the bright light of day exposed the dark bruising along his torso.

  She’d made no objection to his suggestion upon rising that they spend a few days at this camp to recover and rest. He needed to heal, and she didn’t feel well herself. Her stomach cramped now and then as if she had eaten bad food though she knew she hadn’t. Indeed, despite the discomfort in her abdomen, she was fiercely hungry and couldn’t wait to eat the fish Brady caught.

  He looked her way and grinned when he saw her bare chest. “I’m going to catch one more and then we can put them on to bake.”

  She gathered more firewood while he cleaned the catch. Driftwood left by the spring floods was plentiful along the bank. Her shirt had dried enough to put on by the time Brady joined her. He frowned with mock disapproval but went about spitting the fish and suspending them over the low flames.

  “Now what do you think we should do while we wait for them to cook?” He grinned and reached for her.

  She went willingly into his arms. His kiss was insistent and full of hunger. She returned it in kind as her own hunger rose to match his.

  Brady broke off the kiss and led her to their blankets. A sudden pain low in her belly stopped her, and she gasped with the unexpected pain. Wetness, more than that caused by arousal, spread from her opening and soaked her pants.

  “Cara?”

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 113

  She looked down at herself and saw a dark stain spreading between her legs. “It can not be?”

  “What is it?” Brady sounded alarmed now. His gaze followed hers, and then his eyes went wide and a bit wild. “You’re bleeding!”

  Cara searched for understanding. “It can’t be. I haven’t … I can’t ….”

  Brady took both her hands, but his trembled. “Where are you hurt?”

  She would have been amused if she weren’t so shocked. He looked terrified. “It’s my woman’s monthly flow. It’s been so long I didn’t recognize the signs.”

  “You told me ….” His words drifted away.

  “I haven’t had it since I was captured. Katerina and Sinda thought I would never have it again, that I was too badly damaged.”

  “Why did it start again now? What should
we do?”

  “We should do nothing. You watch the fish and give me some privacy. Oh yes, I’m afraid I’m going to need your extra shirt.”

  “Take it.” He turned his attention to the fish as if relieved to have something else to do.

  She took her knife and cut his shirt into strips. After shedding her pants and cleaning herself in the river, she folded the strips of material into layers to catch her flow. The battered shirt didn’t make many wads. They would have to stay by the river while her flow lasted so she could clean them and reuse them each day.

  She scrubbed her pants while the blood was still wet and used a stone to beat the stain out. She sat along the bank for a while and spread her wet pants on a sun-warmed rock to dry.

  Why was this happening and why now? After more than two years why would her flow start up again? Did it mean the impossible had become possible again? She touched her flat stomach, still lean and muscular with no bloating to go with her discomfort. Flat and forever empty of life. Or was it?

  She looked back toward their camp. Brady paced beside the fire in an unusual show of distress for him. Was he worried about her, or what the return of her flow might mean? She’d accepted that she would never make him a proper wife as she could give him no children. But what if she could?

  Would a man like Brady Gellot, handsome and desirable to many women, want a woman who’d been repeatedly raped and forced to endure all manner of emotional abuse? Would he want such a damaged woman for his wife?

  It was one thing for Brady to desire her when she was the only woman available. But now that he knew her secrets and they might be returning home, what would he do? She couldn’t even tolerate having a man on top of her to make love. And she did so love him.

  Another cramp clawed at her inners. She should be rejoicing, but she could not. What joy would it be to have children if she couldn’t have them with Brady?

  * * * *

  Brady’s ribs felt much better after five days of rest. They’d eaten well if not with a lot of variety. Fish, crabs, wild yams, a variety of berries and two game hens he’d shot in the trees.

  They’d washed their blankets, used some of the fat from the birds to oil their boots and generally lounged around for hours.

  From his seat on the beach, he watched another wave break on the rocks. He’d been doing the same thing for hours each day. Cara had not been good company since her woman’s time started.

  ONE GOOD WOMAN SUSAN KELLEY 114

  He dug his bare toes into the sand, but not even the pleasant coolness of that could distract his brooding. He’d worked with many women warriors over the years, and he’d never even known when they were having their monthly time.

  Cara, on the other hand, had been quiet and withdrawn. He caught her looking at him with an odd expression of disappointment in her eyes. Was there something he was supposed to be doing?

  He’d tried to hold her at night, but she’d lain stiff and unwelcoming in his arms. Even after she fell asleep, she tossed and turned.

  This morning upon rising, she’d declared she’d be ready to leave by midday. Then she’d stomped off to the river to bath. Without him.

  He picked up a handful of sand and tossed it into the foaming water. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be content in her company without the intimate pleasures, but she’d treated him coolly in mundane conversation. And he damn well did miss making love to her and didn’t feel shallow admitting it. Tonight when they camped, he intended to warm up that part of their relationship back to where it should be.

  He dusted the sand from his feet and tugged on his boots. He stood up and looked at the river for what he hoped would be the last time for a while. They should have had some kind of celebration of their escape from the Savages, but her damned flow had started. They should be spending hours mulling the ramifications of the Vitans on both their societies and what the future might bring. They should have been laughing over the possible reactions of various people.

  Juston Steele would surely scoff at the idea of civilized Savages. Wait until Steele met Bab and Angel.

  Brady’s mood darkened further. They’d had none of those conversations over the past five days. They should be excited at being one step closer to finding their way home. Yet Cara’s mood seemed darker every day. He almost wished they were back on that ledge with the hot springs where they’d first made love.

  Less than an hour later, they were hiking along the mountains. They covered the first few miles quickly as Brady had already checked the slopes for possible egress up the cliffs without success. There was no reason for stealth or to take care with covering their tracks, but they spoke little as they walked side by side. He couldn’t stand it.

  “Are you better now?”

  “I wasn’t ill.” Her glare was as hot as her tone.

  “I know, but ….”

  “But

  what?”

  “Hell, I was only asking. What’s going on, Cara? You’ve been like a horse with a burr under its tail since we crossed the river.”

  She walked away. He took her arm and spun her back to face him.

  “Talk to me, Cara. You’re acting like you’re angry with me.” He wasn’t going to let her do this. She wasn’t going to treat him like she had before they went over the falls.

  She brushed his hand off her arm. “I’m not angry.”

  “Then

  what?”

  She started walking again but at a normal pace. He fell in beside her, but she didn’t answer his question.

  “If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re not happy we might be going home soon.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I can’t wait to get home and back to Solonia.”

  “Back to Solonia?” He stopped her again. “What about us?”

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  This time she slapped his hand off her arm. “Us?”

  She stomped away, her back straight and her chin lifted. Brady looked toward the distant river, unable to spot it in between the trees, and tried to remember what had happened. He’d obviously missed something or done something that angered her. What?

  He followed her, admiring her trim hips and thinking she was the most infuriating woman in the world. She was so damned complicated. And smart. And brave. And strong.

  “Look at this.” She stopped and pointed at a spill of rocks. The mountain side had crumbled with the forces of weather and years.

  Brady backed away from the slide and shaded his eyes against the sun sinking in the west. The old avalanche was being taken back by the forest with saplings and bushes fighting for existence among the boulders. The presence of the growth gave him hope for the stability of the rock fall and also would provide handholds over some of the steeper parts.

  Cara joined him, lifting her thin hand to shade her eyes much as he had. From sea level it was impossible to see a possible trail among the rocky litter.

  “I think it’s worth a try,” he said.

  “Let’s go.” It wasn’t quite eagerness he heard in her tone.

  “I think we should wait until morning.” Brady looked around where they stood. Their water bag was full, but there was no stream in sight to replenish it. “We don’t want to get caught up there in the dark, or worse have to come back down during the night.”

  Cara sighed. “I’ll gather some wood.”

  Brady took off his pack and set it down with the blankets. “I’ll see if I can hunt some dinner.”

  Their stiff conversation added to his confusion. What had he done?

  Hunting for game turned into a two hour frustration. Twilight gathered beneath the trees by the time he returned to camp. Cara had a small fire going and tubers roasting along the edge of it. The two blankets were spread out on opposite sides of the blaze. What the hell?

  She looked up at him from where she sat on one of the blankets. “I found some red potatoes.”

  “I came up empty.”

  They ate in silence, sharing his cup and eating
the tasteless potatoes. He let himself think of butter, sugar and real tea. A few more days might see them at a real table with all the food they could want. He could stop worrying about Cara getting enough to eat and sleep with both eyes closed instead of waking at every little creak of a branch.

  After they ate, Cara settled back on her blanket and turned her back on the fire and him.

  Damn. Maybe she wasn’t really over this woman’s thing. It must have been a shock for her and maybe she was worried about it more than she let him know. He would give her one more day and then they would have it out.