EREA PULLED OPEN the shutters to find Screech sitting on the wooden ledge, waiting to be let in.
She smiled to see the owl—he was her only companion out here, and although he was not able to provide her with conversation, she found his presence reassuring.
“A good night’s hunting?” she asked him.
Screech merely blinked. Still smiling, Erea stepped back and let the owl fly in and settle upon his usual perch.
He would sleep for the rest of the day.
Erea let out a long sigh. It was a bright, cold morning, and the snow had all but melted. In the past, she and her mother had enjoyed days like this. They had spent the day chatting and singing as they went about their chores.
Alone, the day before her just seemed like drudgery. She could not summon any enthusiasm for it.
Throwing a fur around her shoulders to ward off the cold, she went outside to work on the vegetable plot behind her hovel.
There was not much to work with this time of year, although the onions she had planted in autumn were growing well, and her winter cabbage and kale had survived the snow. Erea cut a cabbage—it would be her noon meal, braised with onions, and turnip. She worked in the vegetable patch for a while, weeding amongst the onions and preparing a bed for the garlic she would plant at Mid-Winter Fire. She would then harvest the garlic at Mid-Summer Fire and would hopefully have enough to last the year through.
The sun was warm on her back, but Erea’s mood was still low.
She cursed Tad. He had taken her smile and enjoyment of her simple life with him.
Fortunately, she had Mid-Winter Fire to look forward to—although the thought of spending it alone, without her mother’s laughter and singing, saddened her, dulling her mood further.
Olwen had possessed a lovely voice, and she had known hundreds of songs—one for every occasion. Erea missed the sound of her mother’s voice, and so she began murmuring a song Olwen had often sung in winter.
“Three crows sat upon a wall
Sat upon a wall
Sat upon a wall
Three crows sat upon a wall
On a cold and frosty morning
The first crow he could not fly
Could not fly
Could not fly
The first crow he could not fly
On a cold and frosty morning
The second crow he—”
“That’s a bleak song for a fair day such as this.”
A man’s voice cut Erea off and made her drop her wooden trowel in fright.
Heart pounding, Erea spun round to see a tall figure standing behind her, a stocky bay pony at his shoulder.
“Tad!” She placed a hand over her breast, where her heart was fluttering like a caged bird. “You nearly made my heart stop. Don’t creep up on folk like that!”
He was grinning at her. “That’s a warm welcome. How I miss being scolded.”
Erea glared at him, although within a heat spread through her. The sight of his handsome, bearded face and magnetic blue eyes caused an unexpected joy to flood through her. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have much good fortune last time I went out hunting, so I thought I’d try again while the fine weather lasts.”
“Really?” Her gaze ran over him, taking in the height and breadth of his leather and plaid-clad form. She’d forgotten how big he was, how his nearness seemed to suck the air from her lungs.
He watched her with an intensity that made her feel light-headed.
Erea licked her lips, suddenly nervous. “Are you just passing through then?”
He stepped closer, and she inhaled the smell of leather and fresh sweat. Memories of that kiss he’d given her before leaving returned to Erea then. Her knees wobbled under her. “I missed you, Erea,” he said softly.
They stared at each other for a long moment, before Erea stepped back. Her heart was still racing as if she had just been running. She did not understand her body’s reaction to this man. It was as if her senses were suddenly heightened. Despite the chill breeze that feathered across her face, she felt feverish.
“It grows late,” she murmured, pushing aside a lock of hair that had come free from her braid and blown across her face. “Where are you staying this eve?”
The intense look on his face made her blush. She took another step back from him, flustered. “It’s too late for you to head home now,” she breathed. “You might as well stay for supper and sleep by my hearth.”
His boyish smile returned, replacing the look of naked want she had just witnessed. “Thank you, Erea … I knew you’d not leave a weary huntsman out in the cold.”
Logs burned in the hearth, and the smell of turnip and onion stew filled the interior of the hovel. Outside, a misty dusk settled and the air grew icy, promising a hard frost for the following morning.
Erea had let Screech out to hunt before busying herself with preparing supper, while Tad settled upon a stool on the opposite side of the hearth. She could feel his gaze upon her as she worked.
“I didn’t think to see you again,” she admitted, avoiding his eye as she chopped rosemary and thyme for the stew. “And certainly not so soon.”
“And are you pleased you have?”
She glanced up. He was smiling, a dimple in his cheek.
“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. “It’s harder to live alone when you get used to having company for a while.”
“You don’t have to stay here, you know,” he replied. “You could live at my fort.”
Erea gave him an arch look. “The daughter of a witch-woman? I think not.”
His smile faded. “I wasn’t lying earlier … I really have missed you.”
Irritation flowered within Erea. She wiped her hands upon a damp cloth and turned to face him properly. “What do you expect me to say to that?”
He looked taken aback at her shortness. “You didn’t miss me then?”
Erea glared at him, infuriated by his male arrogance. “Of course not.”
His smile faded, and he rose to his feet. “I don’t believe you.”
Erea snorted. “Gods, you have a high opinion of yourself.”
He walked around the hearth, approaching her. Erea stepped back against the table, but there was nowhere else to go. Tad moved close, his presence overwhelming.
Erea forced herself to tilt her chin and meet his gaze. However, she immediately regretted doing so. The look on his face was so intense it made her breath catch. She preferred his smile; it was less dangerous.
“Don’t stare,” she gasped, trying to ignore the want that thrummed through her.
“Why?” He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.
Erea swallowed. Her legs felt weak, and it was suddenly hot and airless inside her home. “You know why.”
His mouth quirked, and Erea found herself staring at it. His lips were full, sensual, and beautifully molded. He traced the pad of his thumb down her cheek, and Erea trembled.
“I probably shouldn’t have come back.” he whispered, “but I couldn’t stop myself. I’m a moth to your flame.”
“You should have let me be,” she agreed shakily. “This can’t go anywhere, Tad.”
“I’ve not thought about anything but you since I left. I had to see you.”
Erea dragged in a deep breath. “That’s not—”
She never finished her sentence—for Tad leaned down then and kissed her hard.