Khari'na Made (Muse Book 1)

by Jean Winter

  Her head tilted in a most endearing way. “You know how to read Aultscryp?”

  “I know enough to know if you are no' translating it correctly,” he fibbed, grinning. “I will have you read it to me.”

  “Deal.”

  A quick squeeze of her knee and Kade knew it was time to leave, give her space. “Well, you look exhausted. How about you put that away for the night and go have another sleepover with Jos'lie?” he said. He stood and turned to go.

  “I think I should sleep here tonight. If that's okay.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Kade stopped in his tracks. “Really?”

  “Well, Jos'lie has been talking to people about me sleeping in her room and I think she needs to see us acting more conventional—for safety.” Then she added, “And it would only be suspicious tonight, anyway. She's already asleep.”

  Aye, that was good logic. He would take it. And tonight she wouldn't be a weeping, hollow mess.

  Lyra stubbornly insisted on putting away the last of the dishes before she retired, however. She was determined to keep earning her keep. So during that time, Kade ambled to his chair in the great room and picked up volume A. When she did finally shuffle to the bedroom, he made himself keep at his book. He didn't want to appear eager.

  Three minutes later, Kade was reading the same passage for the fourth time, and looking at the clock for the tenth time. Okay, now.

  Upon entering he found Lyra making up a bed of sorts on the floor and his anticipation waned. Oh. Of course.

  “Thank you for making that up for me,” he said, skirting past to the wardrobe. “That was … thoughtful.”

  “This is not for you. It's for me. I told you I would sleep on the floor when we needed to share the room.” She folded another blanket lengthwise over the first one and Kade spun to face her.

  “Oh, no you will no'. I will no' enjoy the comfort o' my bed and make a woman sleep on the floor. It goes against my principles as a gentleman.”

  With effort, Lyra sat up on her knees. “Well, I am not going to kick someone out of their own bed just because I need to sleep in the same room for a night. I'll be fine.”

  Frowning, Kade undressed. Then he yanked the comforter off the bed and began to arrange it on the floor next to her. Ahskr, lying nearby, gave a couple anticipatory tail snaps. He had not realized that everyone was going to join him tonight.

  “What do you think you're doing?” Lyra moaned.

  “Sleeping on the floor,” he said, like it made perfect sense.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” Lyra lay down and turned over.

  “Fine.” He turned out the light and soon had himself settled. We will just see who is more stubborn.

  In the darkness, her unsteady breathing and fidgeting nearby told him she was nowhere near to going to sleep yet. It made Kade grin as he lay on his back, hands behind his head. This wasn't what he'd had in mind, but listening to her annoyance was kind of entertaining.

  As expected, she only lasted a couple minutes. “This is dumb. Someone should use the bed.”

  “Agreed. So get yourself up there.”

  Silence.

  “Okay. Fine.” Lyra rose with her pillow. “Maybe we can trade off nights. Or,” she climbed onto the mattress, “tomorrow night, I can secretly bring in the trundle from Jos'lie's room. That wouldn't be as bad as the floor.”

  Kade sighed. He supposed he could content himself with just listening to her breathe. What else was he to do? He was in love with a woman in denial. And even if she was ready to acknowledge reciprocal feelings, she was not willing to give herself to anyone less than a wedded husband. What in the world am I supposed to do with that? It was a grim thought.

  Another few restless minutes and, “Sir?”

  “Kade.” It was an automatic prompt now …

  … with an automatic disregard of it. “This is dumb, too.”

  “I agree, again.”

  “Yes, well, after all, there is plenty of space up here, we are mature adults, and I can't stand the thought of you sleeping down there on the cold, hard floor.”

  “Are you inviting me up, then?” he asked quietly. He had to be sure.

  The answer wasn't quick. “Yes.”

  “Well, if you insist, my lady.”

  He got the comforter back on again and arranged himself on his side. Her form was dimly lit by triple moonlight on the other. Much better.

  “There,” she murmured. “Now I have one less thing to feel guilty about.”

  Kade frowned. “You do know that you should no' beat yourself up over the ambush. It was an honest mistake.”

  A small groan rose up from her side. “I know. That's what Jon told me, too.”

  “What?”

  “I have been dreaming about him ever since he died. At first, we were separated by a … a curtain, but recently, he has been able to come through. And he speaks to me.”

  A conversation about the one man who had successfully owned Lyra's heart—and perhaps still did even from beyond the grave—was not Kade's first choice, but if this was what she needed …

  “What does he say?”

  “Well, this last time, he said the same thing as you. He doesn't blame me. I shouldn't feel so responsible.”

  “Smart man,” Kade admitted. “Are you going to believe him?”

  “Yes. Eventually. It just … hurts still.”

  “What can I do to help you heal faster, my lady?”

  Movement under the covers and his arm was touched lightly. “Just keep being my friend. Keep being wonderful.”

  She rolled away and he waited until she had stilled again. Then he said, “All right. I can do that.” Starting with this.

  Rolling to her, he brought an arm round her, bringing her body against his.

  “What are you doing?” she said, alarmed.

  “I am being a friend. This is a hug,” he explained, his face brushing against the silkiness of the back of her head. “Hugs are on your list of acceptable touching, remember?”

  She giggled. “This is not a hug. This is 'funny business'—which is not acceptable.”

  “No, this is definitely just a hug.” It was gratifying to hear her laugh again.

  Suddenly, his face was the target of a flying pillow and she laughed more as she tried to squirm away. “Well, you are also my boss, and I don't think bosses normally interact with their employees this way.”

  Flinging the pillow away, Kade grabbed her before she could slide out of bed. Her pinned her arms to the mattress above her head and leaned over her chuckling, “And the last I knew, employees do no' invite their bosses into bed with them.”

  Her giggling spurts continued as she struggled to free herself. “Now this,” she grunted, “is definitely funny business.”

  “You started it.”

  The sparkle in her eyes was evident even in the relative darkness. “I did not!”

  “Honestly. Were you this much trouble for your husband?”

  “No! I was a perfect angel. I always followed the rules. I never got into any trouble.” Lyra grew still. “And every night, before going to sleep, Jon told me he loved me.”

  “I love you.”

  Kade said it without premeditation, and he said it honestly, knowing full well she was not yet ready to return the sentiment. Her smile faded.

  “Keep being my friend,” she whispered. It was almost a plea. “Keep being wonderful.”

  Sigh. It was time to get off. “Aye, my lady.” And Kade went back to his side. Just another night in the most complicated relationship he had ever known, hands down.

  “Um,” Lyra raised up on an elbow to squint into the utter blackness that was the floor, “where's my pillow?”

  “Oh, I think I threw it. Somewhere over there,” he said with a gesture.

  She groaned. “All the way over there? Across the cold floor?” Lyra flopped back down like the thought of having to trudge all the way to the other side of the room was far beyond her current capabilities. I
t made Kade chuckle.

  “Would you like to share mine?” Wouldn't hurt to try.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Do you want me to get yours for you?”

  “No. Don't wanna make you have to get up, either.” All went quiet and Kade turned back to staring at the ceiling, until suddenly, Lyra was there, right next to him. “But maybe a shoulder would be nice.”

  Kade was floored. Had she really said that? Do no' question it, you dolt! He lifted an arm and within moments she was nestling her head on his shoulder, cuddling down the length of him. There was that soft heartbeat again.

  Her whisper was quiet, contented. “This is just a hug back. No funny business.”

  Bless the Mother! He rested tentative arms round her in the gentlest of holds. “Well,” he said, “in case it is no' obvious by now, Sugarpip, it seems I am powerless to do anything you do no' want me to do. You are safe with me.”

  “I know.” She lay a bent arm comfortably across his chest and burrowed her face further into the base of his neck. By the claw! How many nights had he spent dreaming of just this very thing? “Good moonrise,” she mumbled.

  Kade was awake a long time after she fell asleep, breathing her in, enjoying the feel of her skin against his, and thinking. Thinking a lot. A good part of the contemplation revolved around how long he could trust himself to be “safe” for her as he had said—because if she was going to go for this kind of sleeping arrangement every night, well, he was only human.

  He didn't get much sleep, and by morning, Kade had his fingers curled in her hair at the base of her skull, holding her head close to his as sunlight worked its way across their faces. Lyra opened her eyes.

  “Good morrow, Sugarpip. Did you sleep well?”

  She smiled and took a moment for a satisfying yawn. “Yes. Did you?”

  “Aye,” he lied.

  She tucked her head to move it closer to his chest. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  Your lips. Your throat. Your torso. Not picky.

  “No' hungry, yet,” he lied again. “How about we just stay right here all morning?” Her upper arm had such a wonderful combination of developed muscle under an outer layer of silk.

  “But the children will be up soon.”

  “I have kids?” he groaned.

  Lyra giggled. “Yes. Two great children who will be very hungry, very soon. I imagine Jos'lie will be here any second to jump on us.”

  “Bah!” Kade held her closer a moment longer, soaking up enough to last through the day until his next chance. Then he rolled away. He had to be safe.

  Bloody whor'. He never thought he could be jealous of a dead man.

  Lyra was humming to herself in the closet while Kade dressed. On his way out of the room, he glanced out his breakfast nook window at the misty morning pond glowing in the sun's rays. The red orb had nearly broken its link from the horizon already. Hmm, Jos' was usually up and on him by now.

  Yawning and scratching lazily at his head, Kade passed through the great room, and found his pretty princess cross-legged on the sofa, a haphazard pile of books next to her.

  “Good morrow, Papa,” she said, a finger holding her place in one of his animal husbandry textbooks. “What does 'diurnal supplementation' mean?”

  Kade froze.

  # # #

  The quiet humming could not be resisted as Lyra sat at the vanity, brushing out her hair. J'Kor had been such a good friend last night. Lyra did not want him to think for a second that she was toying with his affections, but she had just needed the comfort of a pair of arms so badly.

  As for the confessions of love (Heavenly hosts!), well, dare she take them seriously? Honestly, the man could talk love for weeks and weeks, but until he was willing to back it up with—Yeah, right. Like that would—or could—ever happen. There were simply too many obstacles.

  So unfortunately, nothing more could be allowed to develop between them. He was a good, good friend.

  A happy giggle burst from somewhere in the great room. Lyra glanced once more toward the back of the vanity where she had relocated the Tohmu'vah and headed out. It was time to go cook something delicious for that good man and his children.

  The sight that met her, however, stopped Lyra cold in her path.

  J'Kor was crumpled on his knees in the middle of the floor, reverently holding a beaming Jos'lie to him in his lap! Good heavens, is he … crying? In shock, Lyra beheld him struggle through another sob as he reverently kissed his daughter's head.

  “Papa, why are you crying?” Jos'lie curiously touched some of the wetness running down his cheeks. “I thought you were happy.”

  Wait. Jos'lie sounded different ….

  With a soft laugh, he kissed her again. “I am, Princess. So—very—happy.”

  Jos'lie noticed Lyra stock still in the doorway. “Good morrow, Mama Lyra. Papa says I am all better now.”

  Her bright greeting held almost no hint of any of her usual pronunciation problems or throaty halting.

  Holy.

  Harping.

  Hoosfeathers!

  “What … is going on?”

  “Remember? You sang to me, Mama.” Jos'lie smiled. “I guess I am all fixed now.”

  Lyra felt dizzy. Her heart began to pound an erratic rhythm, and she swooped to kneel by the girl. “Sweetness, you were never broken,” were the words she had to pronounce first.

  The cut from last night looked about as expected—a little scabby though closed up entirely in a ragged line—but Jos'lie's eyes, her countenance, were changed.

  Jos'lie shook her head with a giggle. “But you fixed what was wrong inside my head. You did it with your magic.”

  Speechless, Lyra looked from Jos'lie to J'Kor (the poor man was still struggling with his emotions) to Jos'lie again.

  “Look,” Jos'lie said, getting up to fetch a thick book from the sofa. “It makes sense now, all the letters.” She sat down and began to read. “Seasonal, damp weather combined with warmer temperatures such as in late spring and early fall provide a prime breeding ground for the bacteria … cauc-u-sephill-i-um,” her otherwise smooth recitation slowed to carefully work through the large word, “which causes intestinal bloat in ruminants and some other livestock o' the grazing nature.” She looked up with a smile. “See? The letters are no' jumbled anymore.” With enthusiasm, Jos'lie stuck her nose down again and continued reading aloud.

  “Lyra.”

  Lyra turned at J'Kor's utterance of her name, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “Do you really think that it was me that—that did that?”

  Suddenly, she was in J'Kor's embrace and feeling through his body the great emotion still crashing through him. He whispered against the side of her head, “It must have been. I canno' imagine any other reas—” He couldn't go on for a second. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Lyra held him tightly in return, tears flowing freely now. “But, I didn't think I was doing anything other than sealing the cut.”

  He sniffed loudly and laughed, “I know. But, thank the moons and stars for you, Lyra. … My Lyra.”

  HEAVENLY FATHER! Was this her purpose in coming here?

  Together, they listened to Jos'lie read, first from one book, and then another. Her intonation smoothed even more as her tongue got used to working out the sounds at a greater speed than to what it was accustomed.

  No one even noticed Breht shuffle in, wondering why he wasn't smelling any breakfast yet and why his father and the khar were crying together in a heap in the middle of the floor. “What is wrong with you two?” he muttered.

  Lyra and J'Kor began to laugh.

  The rest of the morning passed in a happy flurry of activity. Jos'lie was eager to engage in all sorts of activities. She wanted to see what she could do with her newfound clarity and understanding. It seemed every part of her cognitive functioning was improved—her intellect, fine motor and coordination, logic and reasoning; she was a normal, happy eleven-year-old as far as any outside observer would conclude,
and her father had a hard time taking his eyes off her. He wanted to enjoy this first day of grand discovery with her as much as possible.

  As a result, Lyra quickly insisted that she do his morning chores for him so he could stay inside. She grabbed her hat and gloves and practically ran from the house before he had a chance to protest. Much later, Whinnee's stall was only halfway mucked when Lyra's stomach grumbled and she realized it was probably mealtime. She wiped the sweat from her brow and set the shovel off to the side.

  The work had gone quickly this morning as her brain mulled over again and again, not only the wondrous events of this morning, but her rather enjoyable night of sleep. Giving the gentle churung an affectionate pat, Lyra promised to come back soon and finish the job.

  Upon entering the house, she found three J'Kor family members playing cards at the dining table. All were deep in concentration. Then J'Kor looked up in greeting, his wide smile decidedly boyish. She grinned back and quietly made her way around to go get cleaned up in the bathroom.

  Behind her, shouts and exclamations rose up over a card played that Papa had missed.

  The laughing eventually died down and suddenly, J'Kor was at the door. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she returned, amused, as she scrubbed her hands and arms. “How is it going?”

  J'Kor scratched at his head and chuckled, “She is soundly beating the pants off us.”

  “Good! You could use a good pant beating.”

  “Aye, perhaps so.” J'Kor turned and called down the hall, “Breht, Jos'! Clean up the cards please and get ready to help Lyra with midmeal.”

  “You do not need to do that,” Lyra said. “I want you to enjoy this day with them.” She dried off and placed the towel back on its rung.

  “And I want you to enjoy this day, as well. In fact, you should be the one taking the day off. You are the miracle worker.”