CHAPTER 20
Helena
Cap scooted back. “What—what was that?”
She took a moment to appreciate the view. He was right, his face was nothing to be ashamed of. And the bright red on his cheeks only made it better. “An accident. Your nose was higher than I expected.”
“My—” His mouth flopped soundlessly for a moment. She’d completely destroyed his normal calm. “What does my nose have to do with anything?”
She winked. “I’ll let you figure it out.” Holding out a hand to Tucker, she asked, “Would you mind helping me up?”
Cap’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you didn’t need to be rescued.”
“Not by you, I don’t,” she replied with an amused smile. “Tucker has a more accurate view of his own importance.”
Still chortling, the teenager stepped forward and pulled her up. “I can’t wait to tell Alanna and Laurent about this. That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time!”
“Tucker.” Cap’s voice was disapproving as he stood and brushed himself off. “You don’t need to gossip.”
“Gossip?” Tucker protested, his eyes dancing as they began walking again. “How is it gossip to spread the word that you’ve declared Margit trustworthy? Just because she finally knocked off your hood by kiss—”
“Tucker!” The pink tinge to Cap’s cheeks might be anger now. “Not a word.”
Helena nibbled on her lip. She hadn’t meant to make him angry; she’d only wanted to tease him. But regardless of her intentions, it was probably as welcome to him as Luther’s attempted kiss had been to her.
Or worse. What if the situation were closer to when she kissed Michael?
She knew very little about Cap’s life before he turned outlaw.
From his and Jean-haut’s conversation about Daphne, Helena had assumed Cap was unattached, by choice or otherwise.
But what if she’d misread the situation?
He could have a fiancée or wife waiting for him for all she knew.
“Cap, I’m sorry,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes on the ground. “It was supposed to be a joke. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”
He cleared his throat, not looking at her. “Don’t trouble yourself over it. You simply took me by surprise when you...” He cleared his throat again. “I didn’t expect that from you.”
“To be honest, I didn’t expect it of me, either.” Helena cringed. “It was a split-second decision. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Grimacing, he replied, “I know something about that.”
“About split-second decisions?” She lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. “I thought you were the type to deliberate.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Your shoulder. I was operating under faulty assumptions, and you paid the price. I’m sorry.”
An apology? Something warm spread through her chest at the simple words. “To be fair, my actions didn’t help,” she offered, deciding to extend her rare moment of vulnerability. “Another example of my poor decision-making.”
“Are there many?”
The memory of her lips pressed to his returned to her mind, bringing with it a reminder of the last time she had surprised a man that way.
Her cheeks burned with shame. That had been another quick decision, but she had created the situation that allowed it.
Neither her actions before nor after could be blamed on impulse.
And now that she had some distance, she was appalled at her actions.
“Margit? Are you all right?”
She took a deep breath. “Just remembering a particularly bad one.” He didn’t push, but she added, “When I was young, I had a very good friend. But then I…went away for twelve years, and when I came back, I found out he had married.” She gulped, studying the ground in front of her feet. “I didn’t handle it well.”
Cap was quiet for several minutes. Tucker had bounded ahead; Helena could still see him, but he was out of hearing range.
She shouldn’t have told him. Helena winced internally, wishing she’d thought a little more before blurting out her mini confession. She rather liked having Cap as an almost-friend. But as the silence stretched out, she feared she’d ruined their friendship before it began.
“Recognizing your mistakes is the first step,” Cap finally said. He stared straight ahead, but he fingered the arrows in his quiver. “Or so I’ve heard. Then you determine how to correct them.”
Helena sighed. “I’m not sure I can fix that one. We haven’t spoken since, and I—” She paused for a moment, verifying her feelings before speaking. “I don’t blame him.”
Clearing his throat again – he must be catching a cold – Cap glanced at her before looking away. “If it helps, that’s not a concern this time. I’m as unattached as they come.”
Helena grinned at this. It was past time to lighten the mood and end the vulnerability. “Are you saying you’d like to change that?”
“Change…?” He was awfully cute when he was bewildered. And flustered. “Oh. No, I wasn’t—I merely wanted to reassure you that you did not err just now.”
“I didn’t err?” She widened her eyes innocently. “So I should try again?”
“No!” The panic in his eyes could have felt like rejection, but she wasn’t interested either. “Not that I don’t want you—”
“So you do want me?” she interrupted with a sly grin.
“No, I don’t—I mean, I don’t not want you,” he spluttered. His eyebrows scrunched together, and his cheeks were changing color again. “I don’t want want…erm…”
Taking pity on him, she laughed and patted his shoulder.
“Relax, Cap. I know what you’re trying to say.
” It was sweet; he clearly remembered her words that night she’d left the campfire.
He didn’t want his lack of romantic interest to make her feel unwanted.
But she’d pushed him off-kilter, and his words were all mixed up.
The camp came into view as she dropped her hand. Several members of the band were sparring in the clearing, including Rouge and Laurent. Tucker had reached them and was pointing over his shoulder, his voice loud enough to be audible but not intelligible.
“What do you suppose he’s telling them?” she mused in an idle tone. Sneaking a glance at Cap, she saw him reaching for his hood, his eyes fixed on the people ahead of them.
She snagged his arm. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not hiding under that anymore.”
Instead of shaking her off, he frowned at her. “I’m not hiding. It’s cold.”
“It’s no colder than when your hood fell off,” she argued. “You don’t need it yet.”
His eyes narrowed. “I was warmer earlier. Now I’m cold.”
And there was her means of pulling him out of his stoicism again. Grinning, she batted her eyelashes. “The kiss was that good?”
Squeezing his eyes shut, he inhaled deeply and held it. “Margit—”
“Margit!”
Turning, Helena saw Rouge jogging up to them, sword in hand. The redhead’s smile was strained.
“Margit, I expected you back earlier. Weren’t you washing dishes?”
The dishes. Helena’s amusement evaporated. Looking at Cap, she said, “I left them on the bank.” It wasn’t that far, but the thought of hobbling all the way back to the stream was exhausting.
His eyes flicked to hers. “I’ll fetch them.”
“Cap, you don’t have to—”
“It’s fine.” Pulling up his hood, he spun on his heel and started off.
“Running away?” Helena called after him. He didn’t so much as glance back or lift a hand.
“Not much for goodbyes, is he?” she commented.
The whisper of a sword sliding into its leather sheath brought her attention back to Rouge. The younger woman’s mouth was pursed, and her eyes shifted between Helena and her retreating leader. “You two seem to be getting along well.”
Helena’s eyebrows jumped. “I suppose. Is that a bad thing?”
Rouge eyed her for a moment. “I haven’t decided yet.” Beckoning, she added, “Now that you’re back, you can start preparing lunch.”
Interesting.
A breeze fluttered the edge of Helena’s cloak as she dropped to the ground by the table. She arranged the cloak over her lap, then began pulling supplies from the bag Rouge set next to her.
The air was cold, but the sun cast its weak rays over her side of the clearing.
Helena took a moment to turn her face toward its meager warmth.
Winter wasn’t an ideal time to live outside.
But performing mundane chores in the cold was much nicer than sitting inside all day, reading about anything and everything as she had at Marielle’s.
It was unquestionably superior to her life in Ralnor.
There, she was neither needed nor wanted. Here…she might be both.
The wind picked up. It teased her hood, tugging at the edges and blowing a few loose hairs across her face. Helena lifted a hand to brush them back, then froze. It wasn’t just air moving them.
It was the tingling sensation of magic.
She glanced around the camp, but no one else looked concerned. Was she imagining it?
Or maybe Cap’s band had a wind-user, and the rest of the group knew it. She suspected he had at least one magic-user based on the table in front of her, but many magic-users concealed their abilities from those they didn’t trust. They wouldn’t have told her yet.
The wind ebbed to a light breeze. Helena waited, sitting motionless as she monitored it. But she no longer felt the strange sensation, even when a gust blew the bag of salt off her lap.
Cap returned with the dishes she’d left by the stream, carefully setting the bag next to the table. Helena considered mentioning the strange wind to him, but he disappeared as soon as his hands were empty.
Understandable. But it made her just a little sad.