Chapter Eleven #2
She faded off, unable to continue. Kevin’s grip tightened on her, all of his logic and self-protection thrown to the wind. He would hold her if he could but, at the moment, he was fairly incapacitated himself.
“I know,” he said softly, soothingly. “I saw what you did. You were very brave. But I need for you to continue being courageous just a little while longer. I need your help.”
Head buried in the saddle near the lower portion of his injured leg, Annavieve struggled to control her tears, to shake off the fear that had engulfed her after the fact.
Opening her eyes, she could see his big boot.
Lifting her head, she wiped her nose and looked higher, spying the big hilt of the dirk sticking out of his leg.
It made her queasy. The man was surely in excruciating pain but he never let on; his voice was calm and soft.
No howls of agony. If anyone was courageous, certainly, it was him.
Swallowing her sobs, she nodded her head.
“I will help you,” she said, sniffling and wiping her eyes. “What do you want me to do?”
Kevin reached out and put a gentle hand on her dark head, a reassuring gesture as if she were the one in need of comfort.
“I am going to try to lift my leg and the dagger at the same time,” he said.
“I need you to look underneath my leg to see what the dagger may be snagged on. Whatever it is, I’ll need you to reach underneath my leg and break the hold. Can you do that?”
Annavieve wiped her nose one last time. “Aye,” she said. “I can do it.”
He patted her head and removed his hand, grasping the hilt of the dagger. He grunted when he jostled it, the only hint of the pain he was in, before pulling at the dirk and lifting his leg at the same time. Annavieve got her hands in underneath his leg, trying to see the issue.
“Do you see it?” he asked, grunting again.
Annavieve couldn’t see much of anything, made worse because the horse was starting to dance around nervously.
So she put her fingers underneath, realizing that some portion of his breeches had been snagged by the dagger, pinning it against the punctured saddle.
Digging her fingers in beneath his big leg, she managed to get a hold of the snagged leather breeches.
“I think so,” she said. “Let me see if I can… pull this out….”
With a big grunt of effort, she managed to pull free the strand of leather that was trapping the dagger to the saddle. Almost exactly at the same moment, Kevin yanked on the end of the dagger and pulled the thing free out of his leg. Immediately, the blood began to flow.
“I will get something to bind your leg,” Annavieve assured him. “I am certain there is something in the wagon I can use.”
She bolted off towards the wagon and Kevin, in more pain now that the dagger was out, spurred his horse after her.
By the time he reached the wagon, she had her linen shift in her hand, the one she had worn beneath her ugly convent dress, and was tearing it into strips.
Kevin, meanwhile, dismounted his horse, feeling particularly weary now that the excitement of the attack was finished.
But he didn’t think on the pain he was in.
He simply stood next to Annavieve as blood flowed down his left thigh.
Fear long forgotten, Annavieve was focused on helping him.
Dropping to her knees in her fine gown, she tended Kevin’s wound quite professionally, wrapping it tightly to stop the bleeding.
Her only goal at that moment was to help him and she did, feeling a sense of accomplishment once she’d finished tying off the wrap. She adjusted it carefully.
“When we reach Longcross, you should have a physic look at your wound,” she said. “You may need stitches.”
He shrugged. “It is a clean wound, through and through,” he said. “There is no need for stitches. Moreover, you are the best physic I could have. I do not need another.”
She stood up, looking him in the eye as she did.
All feelings of hurt, of confusion and sorrow at his changing behavior, were forgotten.
She forgot them the moment they were attacked, the moment they had been forced to fight for their lives.
That fight had bonded them somehow, drawing them together.
Kevin’s voice had been soft again when he’d spoken to her but her defenses didn’t go up.
She kept thinking on what he’d called her moments earlier, when the fighting had been over.
Anna… sweetheart….
Maybe she was foolish to want to hear it again, but she did. Even as she looked at him now, his expression was gentle and his eyes, eyes that could be so cold, were warm and glimmering at her. God’s Bones, if only it could always be like this….
“I am not a very good physic,” she said. “I simply wrapped it for you. The wound needs to be cleaned out so it does not become poisoned.”
Kevin smiled faintly. “Your concern is noted.”
She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Mayhap it is,” she said skeptically, “but will you do it?”
“I will do whatever you tell me to do, always.”
She shook her head, an ironic smile on her face. “Somehow, I doubt it,” she said. “You are a stubborn and determined man, Kevin Hage. You will do what you please in any case.”
He shook his head, turning to collect his horse, now munching on the fat green grass next to the road.
“That is not true,” he said. “I have not done anything I have wanted to do since the moment I set foot in England. Get up in the wagon, now. We must leave before any friends of these fools coming looking for them.”
Annavieve looked around at the carnage and immediately went to the wagon, now fearful that more bandits might happen upon them. Kevin, with the reins of his horse in one hand, helped her onto the wagon bench. Even as she collected the reins, her thoughts were still lingering on what he had said.
“What do you mean that you have not done anything you’ve wanted to do since you returned to England?” she asked. “Did you mean your desire to return home to see your mother?”
His gaze was averted as he spoke; he was focused on mounting his horse and trying not to cause himself too much pain in the process. “That,” he said, “and other things.”
“What other things?”
Kevin glanced over at her. She was sitting atop the wagon bench, reins in hand, looking about as regal and beautiful as he had ever seen her.
She was a woman with great courage and great heart, and simple wisdom that he was coming to depend on.
She had been so cold to him on the ride from Staines and it had been agonizing.
He didn’t like it when she was angry with him.
He liked moments like this when they were the only two people in the entire world.
That was his problem… he didn’t want to share her.
He wanted her for his very own. He wanted to marry the woman and take her home to his mother, to show her and his entire family that he’d managed to overcome his heartbreak from his lost love.
As he gazed at Annavieve, he realized that, at this moment, he was completely healed from the loss of Penelope de Wolfe.
Annavieve had done that for him.
She was such an uncomplicated, natural creature, and he found those traits so incredibly appealing.
It seemed to be a habit with him, however, to fall for women he could never have.
Here he was, falling for yet another unattainable lady.
It was so very stupid of him and he knew it, but his heart had the tendency of being stupid.
Perhaps that’s why he had caged it up, so he wouldn’t have to respond to its stupid wants.
But somehow, someway, the past three days had erased six years of careful cultivation.
The walls around his soft-centered heart were shattered and Annavieve was the one who held the hammer that beat them down.
She didn’t even know it.
“So many other things I do not even know where to start,” he said after a moment, pausing to look at her before mounting his horse. “You should not ask questions you might not like the answer to.”
Annavieve was serious. “I did not realize that was an irresponsible question,” she said. “But since we are on the subject of questions, I must ask you one and I hope you will not be offended by it.”
“What question is that?”
Annavieve paused, hardly believing she was about to ask a question that had been prevalent on her mind for two days but, at this moment, she felt as if the timing was appropriate.
She was coming to wonder if perhaps his hot and cold behavior was because of something she was doing and, if so, she wanted to know what it was.
Perhaps she was offending the man and didn’t even realize it. She hoped he would tell her.
“Last night when you took me to the festival,” she said quietly.
“You were joyful and attentive. We danced and we laughed. I thought you were enjoying yourself as I was, and our association was most pleasant. In fact, I’ve never known such delight.
But then this morning, after we… when you dressed and left, you were so cold, Kevin.
What did I do to make you turn that way?
You have behaved that way towards me several times and I cannot seem to understand what I have done to cause it. Will you tell me?”
Kevin simply stood there and looked at her.
Had she noticed his fear, his attempts to rebuild the cracking walls around his soft heart?
Either he was very bad at hiding his emotions or she was particularly adept at sensing them.
He couldn’t lie to her about it; he had a good deal of respect for the woman who was caught up in this horrible circumstance just as he was.
He sympathized with her. He felt for her.
Dropping his horse’s reins, he limped over to her.