by Rinelle Grey
“Until you crashed here,” Marlee said soberly. “Maybe it doesn’t work anymore.”
Tyris shook his head. “That wasn’t bad luck. It was stupid carelessness on my part. I forgot to turn my shield back on. The dolphin can’t protect me from my own mistakes. But think how much worse the situation would have been if this village hadn’t been here. I doubt I would have survived even this long. Not right at the beginning of winter.”
“True,” Marlee agreed. “So that means the dolphin helped me find you?”
He smiled. He liked that idea. “I guess so.”
Was it good luck that Marlee found him? From the standpoint of him still being alive, definitely. He refused to think past that. Not when she was lying in bed beside him. He shifted a little with the aim of moving just far enough back to reduce the temptation. Pain sliced through both ankles, and he winced.
“Are you okay?” Marlee sat up and threw back the covers. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
Tyris sat up as well, edging over a little on the narrow mattress and carefully pulled back the blanket to look. The thick wool had stuck to seeping burns that he hadn’t even noticed last night.
“Don’t pull it off. You’ll bring skin with it.” Marlee jumped up and went to the bench, coming back with a clean wet cloth which she laid over the area, blanket and all. The coolness eased the pain.
Marlee let it sit for a few minutes then gently peeled back the thick wool. It came more easily now, but Tyris still had to bite his lip to keep from swearing.
Now that he could see them, the burns weren’t too serious, and though there were three or four patches, no one alone was very large. “I seem to have gotten off lightly,” he joked.
“Yes, you’re lucky,” Marlee answered, but her voice was tight. She didn’t look up, instead fussing over the cloth, lifting it to check the wound, then applying it again.
“Aren’t you glad the animals are safe?” Tyris asked. “And that they’ll have food for the winter?” What had he done to make her angry?
She looked up, and he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. “I thought you were going to die,” she accused.
Tyris blinked. She was afraid for him? Surely not. But the unshed tears in her eyes said otherwise. He reached out to cup her cheeks and gently wipe away the tears with his thumb. “I’m tougher than that,” he assured her.
“Well, I don’t need a demonstration on how tough you are.” Her eyes flashed fire. “There are enough risks out here without you adding to them with your recklessness.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to think. I just knew that if the hay burned, the animals would have nothing to eat, and rescuing them from the fire would have been pointless.”
Marlee must have known that too. She smiled at him. “Well, now they will, thanks to you. Though I don’t know where they are going to live.”
“Can’t the barn be repaired?” Tyris asked. Surely it hadn’t all been for nothing?
Marlee nodded. “Of course, and it will be. But not in this weather. We don’t have the materials we need, and the snow won’t hold off long enough to repair it completely.”
“So what will happen?”
“I’m sure the council will come up with a solution,” Marlee said. “They’re probably discussing it now at the hall.”
“Let’s go join them then,” Tyris said, standing up.
“In a moment,” Marlee said. “We need to get these burns bandaged first, to avoid infection.”
Tyris sighed, but the threat of infection was enough to make him sit obediently again. Marlee collected some strips of clean white cloth, a bowl of water, and to Tyris’s surprise, a potato before she came and sat next to him.
When she began to cut strips off the potato, he frowned. “What are you going to do with those?”
Instead of answering, Marlee took one of the strips, and laid it over the first burn on Tyris’s leg.
He expected it to sting, but to his surprise, the cool, moist side of the peel was soothing.
“Potato peels are good for burns,” Marlee said. “They keep the wound moist, but won’t stick.” She wound a bandage over the area to keep the peel in place then moved onto the next burn.
By the time she finished, Tyris felt almost normal again. Marlee checked his fingers and toes for signs of frostbite but found none.
He was, indeed, lucky. His injuries could have been far worse.
After a quick breakfast, they walked hand in hand through the chilly morning to the village hall. Only a light sprinkle of snow coated the path, despite it being nearly a foot deep on either side. Someone had been up earlier and cleared it.
Inside the hall, chaos reigned. Laughing children chased chickens around the room, a goat had its front hooves up on the trunk of the lemon tree and was nibbling the leaves, and Tyris almost stepped in an egg that had been laid in the doorway.
In the back corner, the council sat in a semi-circle with most of the other villagers sitting on the floor in front of them. He and Marlee skirted around the disorder and joined the villagers on the ground.
Couples he only knew by sight moved over to make room, and someone brought over a large cushion for them to sit on. Whatever conversation had been occurring was suspended for Nerris to ask, “How are you feeling this morning, son?”
“Much better,” Tyris assured them. “Marlee took good care of me.”
“Did she warm you up again?” Jaimma, Marlee’s friend asked.
“Yes, she did,” Tyris agreed, before her wink and nudge to the young man next to her clued him in to the innuendo. He felt himself blush and endured the surrounding laughs with a wry smile. It would help their ruse if nothing else.
Kalim cleared his throat. The giggles faded away and all eyes turned to him. “Tyris, we owe you our thanks. Your brave actions last night not only saved our livestock, but also their food, and most of the barn. We’re lucky to have you among us,” he said.
Tyris shifted on the cushion. He hadn’t expected any thanks and didn’t know how to respond. “It was nothing. I’m sure anyone here would’ve done the same thing.”
And he meant it. He didn’t doubt for a minute that if someone else had come up with the same idea, they would’ve been just as quick to step in. Coming from a world where people tried to palm off their responsibilities at the earliest opportunity, it impressed him.
“Can the barn be repaired?” he asked, trying to shift the conversation away from his own actions.
“We were just discussing that,” Kalim said. “We’ve examined the damage and believe that given a period of relatively fine weather, temporary repairs can be made.”
“Good,” Tyris said. “I was worried about where the animals were going to stay.”
“They bloody well can’t stay here,” Weiss retorted. He waved his hand around the hall.
Usually Tyris discounted Marlee’s stepfather’s opinions, but this time, he had a point. A teenager chased the goat away from the greens growing on the windowsill. At least half the plants were stripped of their leaves. Hay and animal droppings littered the floor, and the smell permeated the building.
“We’ll take them back across to the barn this morning,” Kalim said. “So long as the weather remains calm, they should be safe enough there. We’ll need every able bodied person working on the barn today. I want the repairs finished as soon as possible.”
Chapter 15
The low howling of the wind dragged Marlee from the depths of sleep. She rubbed her eyes and forced them open.
It was still dark, and her muscles ached from a week of hard work on the barn. She could relax knowing the animals were safe from the growing wind. There was nothing to pull her from the blankets, no need to leave Tyris’s warm body, snuggled next to hers.
In the week since the fire, the caution that had kept them on opposite sides of the bed had faded. With the increasing cold, it only made sense to take advantage of anything that kept you warm. Or anyone. It had nothing to do with how nice it felt
. Nothing at all. She closed her eyes again and nestled further down under the quilt.
All week they’d raced the darkening clouds to repair the remaining areas of the barn. The wood they’d salvaged from the collapsed areas didn’t have the strength to rebuild the roof, so they patched temporary walls around the exposed edge, reducing the size to three quarters of its original. But it kept the snow out, and there would be enough room for the animals, especially as the hay diminished,.
Tyris worked as hard as anyone, despite his burns. He never needed to be told something twice, and even though Nerris hadn’t said anything, Marlee could tell he was impressed. That, combined with his brave actions on the night of the fire, had firmly cemented his place in the village. Everyone considered him one of them now.
Did he feel the same? He chatted easily to Nerris and the other villagers when they visited the hall. At home, he helped with everything, and he had already learned an impressive number of the tasks she did. In public, he held her hand, hung an arm around her shoulder, and had even kissed her on the top of her head in excitement when the last hand-cut wooden shingle had been nailed to the barn wall. He never shied back from touching her if the occasion warranted it, even in private.
But he still held back.
Neither of them talked about the morning after the fire. Marlee had been sure he was going to kiss her, but he hadn’t said anything when she’d pulled back. Even though they’d they snuggled together since then, it hadn’t gone any further. Tyris very carefully kept just the right amount of distance between them at all times.
Which was just the way she wanted it—wasn’t it? She didn’t want to go down that path to unhappiness again.
But it might have been nice if he’d tried to.
She couldn’t sleep, so she gave up trying. She could make out more colours in the shadows than there had been before, so the sun must be rising. Outside, the wind howled. The snowstorm was still building.
Taking a deep breath, she braved the cold, sliding out from under the covers, shoving her feet into the slippers beside her bed, and pulling her coat on. She stepped into the other room and stoked up the fire, shivering in the chilly air.
Once the room warmed up, she filled the saucepan with oats, salt, and water to make porridge for breakfast. As she stirred it over the fire, Tyris emerged from the bedroom. He walked up behind her, and for a second, Marlee half expected him to kiss her cheek or slip an arm around her waist. It would have seemed perfectly normal if he had.
But instead he just looked in the kettle hanging next to her over the fire. It was nearly empty, so he opened one of the shutters, letting in a blast of cold, and returned with a cup full of snow to pour into the kettle.
“Looks like the storm’s building. Lucky we finished the barn last night,” he said.
“Yes, I was thinking that earlier,” Marlee agreed. She took the porridge off the fire, and turned and smiled to see that Tyris had set out the bowls.
“What shall we do today?” Tyris asked as he devoured his porridge.
“I think we deserve a day off,” Marlee answered. “Do you want to go over to the hall for a while?”
Tyris readily agreed, and as soon as the breakfast dishes were rinsed and put away, they headed out.
Cold wind blew snow into their faces when they opened the door, and for a moment, the warmth inside the house seemed far more appealing. But it would be warm in the hall too, and her friends would be there. Marlee focused on the yellow light from the windows and pushed on through the swirling snow.
Marlee wasn’t the only one who had decided today should be a rest day. Laughter and warmth greeted them when they stepped inside. She joined her mother by the fire, while Tyris excused himself to go talk to Nerris.
Marlee held out her hands to the blaze. She should have brought her knitting. The sleeves on the borrowed sweater Tyris wore were at least an inch too short. He needed a new one.
Her mother put down her own knitting and watched her for a moment. “How are you and Tyris getting along?”
Tyris had been in her house for three weeks. She should’ve been prepared for the inquiry, should have known it was coming. People were going to want confirmation that they were working on increasing the population, like good little villagers.
She straightened up from the fire and bit her tongue to stop the automatic angry retort. Instead, she tried to recall the closeness she’d felt back in the house. Her mother would quickly see through any outright lies. “He’s been very sweet,” she murmured. “And so helpful with repairing the barn.”
“Yes, we certainly would be in a bit of a pickle if he hadn’t been so quick thinking in the fire,” her mother agreed. She always gave credit where credit was due. “But I wasn’t talking about what he had done for the village.”
“He’s been helpful at home too,” Marlee said, feeling defensive.
“Marlee, I’m not your enemy,” her mother said softly, “I just want to see you happy.”
Marlee bit back the words that threatened to spill out, that she’d been happy with Nelor. Her mother didn’t care about ‘happy’. This was about her having a baby. It would be a mistake to voice those thoughts though, it would only ruin the image she and Tyris were striving for, and lead to more pressure.
The main doors opened behind her, and the sudden gust of cold wind blew her shawl open. Instinctively she turned towards the sound.
Nelor stood in the doorway, smiling.
But he wasn’t smiling at her. He looked down at Brenda, holding her hand, the one not occupied by her four year old son. Her toddler daughter sat on his hip. The expression in his eyes was just the same as the way he’d looked at her. The sight twisted a knife in her belly.
Her mother’s eyes held sympathy and understanding. “It’s time to move on, Marlee,” she said. “You can’t mourn the loss of your last relationship forever.”
Marlee tossed back her hair. “I’m not,” she said, a little too loudly. “Tyris is wonderful, and we’re having lots of sex. Not right now obviously, but we will be later, I can assure you.” Marlee clamped her lips shut to stop herself blurting out any more lies. Her mother would see right through them.
“What will we be doing later?” Tyris’s voice said behind her, and Marlee nearly died from embarrassment. Had he heard her?
Her mother hid a smile. “Marlee is just assuring me that you are working hard on providing me with a grandchild, in your spare time of course,” she said. Her eyes were narrowed, and she watched Tyris, gauging his reaction.
“I was just about to suggest we head home to work on that some more,” Tyris replied promptly. Marlee could have hugged him. In fact, she did, and he slipped an arm around her in return.
Her mother’s confidence slipped. Tyris lied far more smoothly than Marlee did. She almost believed him herself with the causal way he said it. Her mother looked at him then back at her. Marlee rested her head on Tyris’s shoulder and resisted the urge to hide her face in his neck. She forced a smile.
“Hmm,” her mother said. Her eyes flicked to the other side of the room where several other council members stood talking quietly. “I probably shouldn’t mention this, but there is some talk amongst the council of modifying the length of time given before splitting a couple up in Tyris’s case,” she said, her voice low.
“That’s not fair,” Marlee said indignantly, at the same time Tyris said more quietly, “That seems a little unfair.”
“It’s not about fair,” her mother reminded her. “It’s about what is best for the community as a whole. And the reality is that not only is Tyris practically guaranteed to increase the population by at least a couple of children, he brings new genes into the pool as well. We need to make sure that his potential is used in the best way possible as soon as possible. They may decide to end things even earlier if they believe that the two of you are not taking advantage of the situation,” she warned.
“What will it take to convince them? Do they want to watch?” Tyris
raised an eyebrow.
Marlee felt her face burn, even though she knew there’d be nothing to see.
“No need to be crude,” her mother snapped. “You have to admit it’s a fair enough question. The two of you haven’t exactly been overly affectionate.”
“I didn’t realise that public displays of affection were necessary,” Tyris said. Thank goodness he was defending them, because she couldn’t think of a thing to say. “But if this can be solved by a simple kiss...”
He bent his head and all thought of her mother and defending themselves vanished. His lips crushed hers, and heat shot through her in an unexpected surge.
Her lips parted, and she rose onto her toes to bring herself closer. Of her own accord, her arms went around his neck. Tyris pulled her body tight against his with a hand in the small of her back, and she could feel hardness that wasn’t just muscle pressing against her stomach. For some reason, her knees felt weak.
Pulling back, he stared down at her, his eyes dark with desire and flashing with frustration. Marlee caught her breath.
“Hopefully that should be sufficient proof,” Tyris said icily, “but if not, feel free to visit, and I’ll be happy to give a more intimate demonstration.” His arm didn’t leave her waist as he swept both of them towards the door, leaving her mother, mouth hanging open, behind them.
Tyris kept his arm around her waist until the swirling snow hid the hall from view. Then he pulled back abruptly, leaving Marlee feeling bereft. “I’m sorry, Marlee. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I let my temper get away with me, and I took things too far,” he said stiffly.
“It’s okay,” Marlee said, bewildered by the sudden change. She tried not to think about her reaction to his kiss, but another thrill ran through her anyway. “I understand. You kissed me to convince the council that we’re together. I’m glad you said something to Mother. I didn’t know what to say.” She reached out a hand to touch his arm, but he jerked away.