CHAPTER 13 #2
For one brief moment, she had believed he might care about her. He had released his horse to protect her from injury, after all. And he could have caught her in a less intimate manner. Couldn’t he?
But she didn’t like him, and he didn’t like her, and he’d reminded her of it rather brutally when she pushed her teasing too far. No matter that he’d caught her, he had rejected her as thoroughly as Michael had.
Her foot landed on a slushy patch, and she slipped. Her taciturn companion had been keeping his distance, but he lunged sideways and caught her arm, steadying her.
“Hands off!” Scowling, she shook her arm. “I don’t need your help.”
He raised his hand carefully and leaned away. “Your pardon. It looked like you did.”
His voice had returned to its standard calm. The desire to rile him up flared within her, but she tamped it down. His earlier rejection still stung.
Looking up, she noticed how far behind they’d fallen. It would be impossible for her to catch up before the group stopped to rest. But she should keep the gap from growing larger than necessary.
With a sigh, she set her cane on the ground, hopped forward, and tried not to think about how much her body would ache by the end of the day.
“Why are you walking with me?” Helena finally asked, shooting a frustrated look at Le Capuchon. “I’m slowing you down. Shouldn’t you be walking at the front with Jean-haut?”
“If I did that, you would lose the group and become lost.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” she bit out. “You should be eager to rid yourself of the spy that tries your patience.”
His head shifted toward her. “I didn’t leave you when you fell down the cliff. I’m not going to abandon you now.”
A tiny spot of pleasure warmed her chest, but she stubbornly ignored it. “And why not? Determined to keep an eye on the helpless woman you fear?” she challenged.
She imagined his eyes were assessing as they swept over her. “I’ve seen you draw. I don’t believe you’re helpless.”
“I am when I don’t have a bow,” she shot back, eyeing the one on his back with envy. “Especially when I can’t run.”
“Then perhaps that is why.”
“That’s right; I forgot: you rescue people,” she scoffed. Setting her gaze firmly ahead, she trudged onward. “I don’t need to be rescued.”
“I never said you did.”
Infuriating man with his infuriating calm.
“Speaking of bows, what did you do with mine? And the rest of my belongings?” Helena asked stiffly. “It may be too soon to ask, but we usually have an audience.”
Clearing his throat, he looked away and said, “I didn’t know how to find you, and I didn’t expect to run into you again. And we don’t have the luxury of keeping things we don’t need.”
Helena’s jaw dropped as she whirled to face him. “Are you telling me you sold my things? You sold my bow?”
“Alanna kept one of your sturdier dresses after adjusting the fit.”
“My books?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. The saddlebags were open, and the books must have fallen out.”
It was useless to hope that she could find them again. They were probably ruined by now. Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked, “And my bow?”
“It was too fine to relinquish.” There was a glow of admiration in his voice, and Helena almost thought she could see a smile on his face.
Between the hood and his beard, it was hard to tell.
He gestured toward the horse. “I don’t want to travel with two bows in my back sheath, so it’s strapped to Farrell’s saddle. ”
Struggling to reconcile her irritation at not having her bow with her pleasure at his enthusiasm, she forced a cool expression onto her face and said, “I thought you were looking for a home for the horses. How will you carry my bow then?”
He had the grace to turn away, so she imagined an abashed look to go with it.
“I’d considered asking Alanna to fashion a new sheath and carry it for me when we move.
It’s light, so it wouldn’t add much to her burden.
” Turning toward her again, he added, “But perhaps I could let you carry it instead.”
“You’re giving it back?” Helena replied, unable to keep the delight from her face. “Even though you don’t trust me?”
She couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the amusement in his voice. “I never said I’d give you arrows. Or the string.”
She’d take it. As long as she had the bow, she could come up with the rest later.
Pausing, she balanced on her left leg and pulled her satchel around to her front. She didn’t have much, but the bag was small enough she had to dig.
“What are you doing?”
Helena shoved her spare dress to the side without looking up. “Looking for my sheath. You didn’t steal that.”
“It wasn’t my intention to steal your bow.” His voice was flat. “If you hadn’t helped set General Valentin’s trap, I wouldn’t have been running for my life and would have remembered to return it.”
“I had nothing to do with that,” she ground out, spearing him with a glare as she worked the leather free. “I admit I was looking for you, but I’d been riding around Amitié for three weeks hoping to find you.”
Le Capuchon stared at her, not even keeping the edge of his hood toward her as she strapped on her sheath. “Why?”
Glancing up, she was annoyed to discover that the filtered sunlight cast most of his face in shadow. “Good question. It was my goal when I left home, but clearly I should have reevaluated.”
“Was home so bad? Living as an outlaw would be better?”
Her spine stiffened as she charged around to the other side of his horse. She neither wanted nor needed the compassion in his voice. “I want my bow.”
The horse’s jingling bridle was louder than Le Capuchon’s footsteps, but Helena knew he followed her.
She could practically feel his desire to help her free her bow from the saddle.
Instead, he stood quietly behind her, his hand hovering in her peripheral vision while she struggled to untie it with one hand.
She tried leaning against Farrell, but the horse sidestepped, almost toppling her. Grumbling under her breath, she set her right foot carefully on the ground, leaned the cane against her bent knee, and pulled her gloves off.
“Would you like me to—”
“I don’t need to be rescued.”
The rough rope dug into her fingers as she worked on the knot. He’d ensured her bow wouldn’t be lost along the way – she’d give him that.
It finally came loose, and she tucked her unstrung bow into its sheath with a sigh of relief. Stuffing her cold fingers back into her gloves, she turned to find him closer than she’d expected.
“Since you’re here, would you like to ride?” he asked politely. “If you think you can manage it with your ankle.”
She glared at him. “I don’t need—”
“At our current pace, we won’t reach the others tonight,” he calmly interrupted, looking over his shoulder at the empty forest ahead of them.
“Afraid I’ll steal your arrows while you sleep?” she smirked.
Le Capuchon faced her again. “You don’t have a tent, and I only have mine. And you’re not sleeping without shelter.”
Crossing her arms, she looked away to hide her blush. “So you’re saying I would be helping myself? Or are you concerned about your sterling outlaw reputation?”
“If you can’t ride, Margit, we’ll make it work.” He took a step back and patted the horse’s neck. “But I think we’ll both be happier if we make camp with the others.”
Helena fidgeted under his gaze. She would rather share a tent with Rouge than with any man, but it went against every fiber of her being to admit she couldn’t do something. Instead, she changed the subject.
“Why don’t you ride him? Wouldn’t it be faster if you used your horses during the move?”
He shifted away. “They are not pack animals. And I do not want my people to become dependent on animals we will not always have.”
“But why don’t you ride?” she pressed. “You’re the leader; shouldn’t you ride while you have the ability?”
“Not when my people can’t.” Gesturing to the horse, he continued, “But while we have them, those who need the assistance do ride. Perhaps if I lift you from the right?” His hand wavered before dropping to his side. “My...shoulders could provide balance while you swing your left leg over.”
Was that uncertainty she heard in his voice?
Softened by his vulnerability, Helena admitted, “I could sit, but I don’t think I can direct him efficiently. I’ll only be able to use the reins.”
“I’ll keep the reins. Sitting will be sufficient.” His hand twitched toward her as if to offer support, but then he dropped it and walked away.
Helena trailed behind him with mixed feelings. Riding would be a relief, but she didn’t want his help. She didn’t want him to touch her.
But at the same time, she did.