Love Me Forever (7 page)

What, then, was he thinking?

“It matters not,” she said and slipped her
hand out from beneath the blanket. “I need no man. I want no
man.”

She sighed. Why, then, did this empty ache
grow in her and why did her thoughts linger on Royce?

“Stop this, Brianna,” she scolded herself
and strained to sit up on her own.

It took some effort and pain that eventually
subsided to a dull ache, but she succeeded. She felt victorious and
courageous. If she could sit up on her own, why could she not
stand? And if she could stand, then she could reach her satchel at
the foot of the bed and slip on her night shift.

The thought of gaining back her mobility
excited her, and she moved back the blanket so that she could slide
her legs to the edge of the bed. She took her time, for she
realized that if she rushed, the pain would return. With slow
movements her body had time to adjust, and while there was some
discomfort, it was nothing she could not endure.

She was grateful Royce had added logs to the
fire before he left. The cottage was heated well, and she did not
worry about a chill. She grew eager to stand but tempered her
enthusiasm, giving her body time to acclimate to each movement.

Her feet finally rested on the thick carpet
of rushes that covered the earthen floor. She felt a slight pain
begin to throb in her lower back and paused to allow it to subside.
It persisted and she decided to ignore it. She was doing well and
she intended to retrieve her night shift, slip it on, and return to
bed. She would deal with Royce when he returned, though with the
task accomplished, what could he say to her?

She took several fortifying breaths and
gently began to ease herself to stand on her own two feet. Her
smile grew with each successful movement, and her smile spread wide
when she finally stood to her full height, allowing her legs to
accept her weight.

The pain shot through her lower back so fast
and furious she had no time to respond before she fell hard to the
ground, the breath knocked completely from her. She was braced on
her hands and knees, gasping for a breath.

The room suddenly became like an oven, and
beads of perspiration dotted her face. She felt faint from the
intense pain, and she did not know what to do. Her arms grew weak
and would not be able to support her much longer, and her knees
trembled. The one thing she was grateful for was that she had
regained her breath.

She focused on her breath, diverting her
attention away from the pain, and she did not know how, but she
managed to ease her backside to the floor and brace her back
against the bed. It took effort and it wore her out, but it
relieved the pain in her lower back.

She gave herself time to breathe and think
of nothing else, for if she gave her situation thought, she would
grow upset, and she was too close to tears at the moment. Tears,
however, would do her no good. A clear head was what was needed for
her to evaluate her dilemma and decide on a course of action.

Fool.

The word echoed loudly in her head and she
agreed. She
was
a fool. Sitting up in bed and moving around
was a grand accomplishment for her, but she certainly had been
foolish attempting to stand on her own with no one about to help
her.

This was one time her determined nature got
her into a difficult situation. She began to feel a chill creep
over her body and realized that a draft of cold air came from
beneath the front door and hovered on the floor. Her bottom was
getting cold quite fast.

She reached up and over her head and pulled
at the blanket on the bed. She managed to pull it down around her,
but she did not possess enough strength to get the warm wool
blanket beneath her to where she needed it the most. And she knew
for certain that she did not have the strength to return herself to
the bed.

Her only option was to wait until Royce
returned. He told her he would not be long. She could manage to sit
there and wait. She had no choice, she had to, and she intended to
convince herself that she could. She had courage, she had strength,
and she had a relentless throbbing pain in her back that began to
move down her leg.

She lost track of time; she did not remember
when her tears began, she only knew she could not stop crying. Her
cries turned to sobs, and that is when the door opened.

She had no intentions of calling out to him.
She did not wish to embarrass herself any more than necessary. But
the open door brought a rush of cold air, the pain had grown
unbearable, and she ached for the comfort and safety of his
arms.

She called out to him through her sobs.
“Royce.”

He shoved the door shut at the same moment
he dropped the gutted rabbit he held. He rushed to her side and
lifted her up into his arms, the blanket falling off her and her
cry of pain tearing at his heart.

“My back,” she said between labored
breaths.

He placed her gently on the bed, turning her
so that she rested on her stomach and he could examine her back.
The dark bruise on her lower back and hip was taking its time
healing, and it had spread down her leg. He ran tender fingers over
the discolored area and she flinched.

He wanted to yell at her for being so
foolish, but now was not the time, though he intended to have his
say.

“It hurts,” she said, her tears continuing
to fall. “And I am so very cold.”

He ran a slow hand over her backside and
down her leg, brushing off the rushes that stuck to her tender
skin, skin that felt like ice. “I am going to move you to rest on
your good side so that the pressure will be taken off your injured
side, and then I will get you warm.”

She nodded and allowed him his way with her.
She simply did as he asked of her. She placed her arm around his
neck as he directed, held on to him until he finished bracing
pillows along her back. He was easing her pain and his warm hands
felt so very good against her chilled skin. The pain faded slowly,
but she was grateful that it faded, and she knew soon, very soon he
would take her chill away.

Royce slipped his fur cloak off and covered
her naked body with it. He then piled three wool blankets over her,
covering her up to her chin and tucking the blankets in tightly
around her so that no cold air could penetrate her warm cocoon.

He wiped at her tears, his heart aching for
her, and it was with a firm voice he told her, “You will listen to
me well, for you do not wish to see my wrath.”

Her eyes rounded with an ounce of fear, and
she paid heed to his words.

“From this moment on you will do as I say
without question. You will not move in or from that bed without my
permission. You will do nothing for yourself without my permission.
You will eat what I tell you to eat; you will sleep when I tell you
to sleep. Is that understood?”

Brianna felt the need to defend her actions,
foolish as they were. “I only meant to—”

“—be foolish,” he finished for her.

“Aye, that I was,” she whispered and turned
her glance from him, shamed at her own foolishness.

He cursed himself. He had not meant to
discuss this with her until he had calmed down, but he was enraged
more at himself than her, for he should have never left her alone.
He should have realized she would have attempted such a foolish
feat. She was too damn stubborn, not
determined
, but
stubborn.

He did not, however, wish to make her feel
worse, though he did intend that she obey him, as angry as that may
make her. He sat beside her on the bed and wiped again at the fresh
tears that fell slowly down her cheeks.

“The bruise on your back and leg is far from
healed. Until it heals significantly, you will not move around on
your own.”

“Is that an order?”

“Must I make it so or will you realize the
wisdom of my way?”

He did not speak harshly, though his voice
was firm, and if she gave it thought she would realize that he was
being wise in telling her to remain abed until strong enough to
stand, while she was being stubbornly foolish in wanting to stand
when she felt herself ready.

“I will do as you say—for now.”

“You give me your word on this?”

“Aye, my word,” she agreed without
hesitation. She had trouble keeping her eyes open. The more
comfortable and warm she became, the more tired she felt. Her
ordeal had robbed much of her strength, and her body ached for a
restful slumber.

“Sleep,” he said softly and with
concern.

“I am tired.”

Her eyes drifted closed and his hand reached
out and stroked her cheek. He was with her and she was safe. She
need not worry; he would look after her, ease her pain, keep her
warm, and protect her from harm. This she knew and did not
doubt.

He would be there for her always.

Why?

She spoke, thinking she was in a dream. “Why
are you so good to me?”

Her question startled him, and her next
question startled him even more.

“Why do you care for me?”

Why do you care for me?

The question echoed through his mind as he
prepared the rabbit stew, and he thought of many answers to the
simple question, though one answer haunted him.

He cared for her because he
cared
,
actually cared for her as a man would for a woman. The thought
troubled him. He had not allowed himself to care for any woman. His
life had been one of constant battle. He had learned to fight at a
young age, his clan expecting it of him. He had known he would
follow in his father’s footsteps one day, and he would be no less
the great warrior than his father had been. His father had often
told him that he, his son, would surpass him in strength and
courage.

He had worked hard and women were of little
importance to him except to satisfy a need. He had no time to give
women, no time to care for them. He had a responsibility to clan
and family, and he had taken it seriously.

Until this last battle.

The battle had forced him to seek solitude
and reconsider his own beliefs. His thoughts had tormented him, and
he wanted nothing more than to be alone with his own agonies.

Then he found Brianna.

He could not say what it was about her that
made him want to care for her and protect her. He only knew that he
needed to, he had to, he wanted to. She seemed as alone and lonely
as he did, and he felt he found in her a kindred spirit.

She relied on his tenderness, his gentle
touch, and she sought the comfort and safety of his arms nightly.
She did not fear him, though his face could cause fear.

He touched his fingers to his lips. The
swelling had subsided and the wound had begun to heal. It would not
leave a scar. He was, however, not as lucky with the other wounds.
He would be left with a reminder of a battle he wished to
forget.

He placed the pot of stew over the flames to
cook, and then sat in the chair near the hearth. His thoughts were
chaotic, he could not seem to focus, and he grew tired of the
warring in his head. It took only minutes for his eyes to grow
heavy, and without thought he walked to the bed and stretched out
beside Brianna, falling asleep instantly.

Brianna woke to a delicious smell and
comfortable warmth. She snuggled against the warm bundle, and arms
wrapped around her and squeezed her gently. She looked up to see
Royce, his eyes opening slowly. When he saw her he smiled and
brought his lips to her forehead.

It was a loving kiss he placed there, and
she sighed with the comfort it brought her. His arms remained firm
around her as though he did not wish to let her go, and that was
all right with her. She felt good in his arms and she had no wish
to leave them, though her stomach rumbled to let her know
otherwise.

“You are hungry?” He kissed her forehead
again.

“My stomach protests, I do not. I like where
I am.”

“You like my arms?” He sounded as though he
did not believe her.

“Aye, that I do,” she said and rested her
head on his shoulder. “I feel safe in your arms.”

My arms will always keep you safe. His
silent response startled him. He knew her but a week’s time and he
thought of her as his? He was being foolish in his thinking. He was
merely lonely and she filled a void.

Foolish.

Was he being more foolish than he
realized?

“You are safe in my arms. I will allow no
harm to come to you.”

“I believe you,” she said on a sigh and
cuddled closer to him, wedging her body against his. “And I”—she
paused briefly, thinking over her next words—”trust you.”

He made to answer, but she continued. “I
know you dictate to me out of concern and tend to me because you
care. Your touch is respectful and you do not dishonor me. I am
grateful that you are such an honorable man.”

Honorable
.

He had questioned honor of late, and here
she told him of his honor.

He answered as he felt. “You can always
trust me.”

Her stomach rumbled loudly.

“You need food.” He attempted to move her
away from him so that he could get their meal.

She would not allow him to. “Nay, I feel
warm and comfortable. I do not wish to move just now.”

“Your stomach disagrees,” he said, though
his arms remained firm around her.

“I will eat soon enough. For now, I wish to
enjoy where I am.”

He did not argue with her, for he enjoyed
where she was, and the thought that she wished to be there filled
him with a sense of peace. He liked sharing the bed with her, he
liked that she relied on him, he liked that there were only the two
of them. He liked her more than he wanted to admit.

When both their stomachs began protesting,
it was decided that they should eat. Brianna felt well enough to
feed herself, but after her ordeal Royce would not hear of it. And
she had agreed to follow his edicts—for now.