Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
F reya was not a woman who got sick very often. On top of that, as she was normally surrounded by so many of her herbs and tonics, any time she was feeling poorly, it was only too easy to make herself a tea and feel right as rain again.
If she had woken up feeling sick to her stomach after tossing and turning all night, she would have made herself a potion with marshmallow root to feel better. It was all she would have needed in that exact moment, but it wasn’t in her bag. She must have forgotten to bring it in their haste to leave. Served her right. Now, they were nowhere near land, and it wasn’t likely they would have any in the galley. Staying in bed made it worse because she was just lolling back and forth miserably. Freya’s forehead was clammy, her stomach was in knots, and she was trying her hardest to keep from complaining about her discomfort, but she knew she couldn’t very well stop the ship.
Nathan was doing more than she could have ever asked of him. Somehow, he had managed to procure a cloth and a small bowl of water with high enough sides that it wasn’t sloshing around. The sound, however, was helping absolutely nothing at all. That certainly wasn’t how she wanted the man who she had just had her first kiss with the previous night to see her. She had no idea what might have happened between the pair of them had they not been kept at dinner for as long as they had been.
All she knew was that falling asleep in his arms was once again the best thing she had ever truly experienced. The pair of them had collapsed into the bed at such a late hour that he had barely managed to pull her into his chest before she had fallen into a deep sleep. This morning, however, when she had awoken he was nowhere to be found. It had hurt her feelings for all of a moment, and then she had lost herself to sea sickness. One step out of bed, and she had fallen right back into it.
Once he had finished breakfast and returned to her side, though, he had stayed there.
“Ye dinnae have tae… be here…” She moaned, attempting to catch her breath as she curled further in on herself.
“Of course, I dinnae have tae be here, lass. I want tae be here.” He said sweetly as he dabbed at her forehead with the cool cloth.
“Dae ye ken this is some sort of divine punishment… for winning too many… rounds of cards?” Freya moaned, holding her stomach as she scrunched her eyes shut and waited for the vertigo to pass—only it didn’t. The darkness only made her feel worse, and she had to lie there, attempting to focus on a random part of the wall so that she didn’t empty her stomach.
“Aye, I dae. This must be what ye deserved,” Nathan teased, laughing softly to himself.
All Freya could do in response was moan and curl in on herself further.
Nathan reached up, rubbing soft, soothing circles into her back that helped more than anything else had. She knew there was a soft side to him, she had seen it plenty of times since she had met him, but this felt different.
There was another knock on the door, and Nathan’s hand moved. She lamented the loss immediately. He opened the door just a crack to reveal the captain standing there, eyeing the two of them curiously.
“Still nae better? I brought something that ought tae settle her stomach some… and then see if she’s willing tae walk around up on deck fer a spell. I dinnae ken why watching the horizon always helps, but it daes,” the captain explained and extended something through the door.
“Thank ye,” Nathan said, and neither one of them could believe the kindness of the gesture coming from him.
Nathan closed and locked the door, sniffing at the item curiously. He had a water skin hanging from his wrist as he turned the chunk of whatever it was over in his hand. He held it out toward her, curious and expectant. One look told her that it was ginger root, and she happily accepted it. Though it would be far better if it had been steeped into a tea of some sort, she was willing to take what she could get.
Slowly, Freya started to suck on one of the ends, chewing it where she could, as best as she could. Nathan opened the water skin, and winced.
“That cannae…” He muttered before bringing the water to his nose once more. He eyed the opening as if looking into the darkened skin would somehow tell him what was actually inside. Then, he took a drink and made a face. “That’s nae whisky… and it’s nae water…”
He shook his head, showing just how disgusting he thought the contents of that skin were.
Freya managed a weak grin. “It’s tae keep the water clean.”
“Clean? It’s like a child got into their faither’s whisky supply.”
Another wave of nausea hit, but it was already so much better because of the ginger root alone.
“I’m sure he means fer ye tae drink this… but I’m nae so sure.” Nathan said as he sat back down beside her, holding out the water skin. If she was being perfectly honest, that sounded absolutely terrible. But she accepted it anyway—and was rewarded by Nathan’s body sliding into the bed behind hers.
His warm hand spread over her belly, and he gently pulled her back against him, surrounding her with his warmth. It was almost more soothing than the ginger root was. She sighed deeply, biting off a piece of ginger and chewing it into a pulp slowly as she allowed her eyes to close. For the first time all day, it didn’t feel like she was being hurled around by the sea, but rather it felt as if she were being gently rocked in Nathan’s arms.
Nathan never thought that she would be quite this happy to have her feet on solid ground. If not for himself, then for Freya, who had suffered so much throughout the short journey. Ever since the captain had given her the ginger root, she had begun to feel better, her spirits had lifted and the sickness which had gripped her had slowly subsided, but she had spent so many hours in agony that seeing her so spry now that they were on solid ground was a pleasant surprise. It seemed to him that the moment her feet had touched land, she had swiftly recovered, all her past suffering forgotten.
They immediately headed toward the markets when they disembarked. On the off chance that the crew was questioned by the soldiers who seemed to follow them around everywhere, they didn’t want them to point out where they could be easily located.
Nathan led Freya, following the sounds and the flow of people, knowing they needed more supplies for their journey and to purchase two new horses. He didn’t know if he was home or anywhere near it—the mainland was large, after all. And yet, he still looked around, trying to place his surroundings, trying to provoke any sort of memory that could be arise.
Since he had somehow found himself in Freya’s village, it was more than likely this was the place from which he had originally departed. The docks, the market—all of it may have very well been familiar to him, but none of it sparked anything. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t recall ever having been there before, and the only way he knew how to get to the market was by observing the locals.
If he were to pass by something or someone, and instantly remember who he was, would he be the same person? The same loop of concerns that played inside Nathan’s head over and over again, but it was different now that he had kissed her. In the short time he had known her, Freya had become everything to him—a savior, a friend, a lass he desired. He was well aware that he had become too attached, too fast, but she was all he knew. In this foreign world, she was his only anchor.
Thus, he didn’t know what he would do if he remembered something that would prevent him from being with her. He didn’t even know Freya’s own feelings on the matter but losing her—losing the only constant in his life—seemed too painful a thought to Nathan.
From the corner of his eye, he could tell Freya was staring at him, though he couldn’t quite decipher her expression without turning to look at her fully.
“If ye keep looking at me like that, I’m going to get very self-conscious,” Nathan said. They had nearly finished collecting their supplies now, everything stored in the large leather bag, and the pair of them were starting to make their way toward the stables.
“I just?—”
“I ken the meaning of yer ‘just’ lass,” Nathan said, unusually terse. He had a very good idea of what it was she was thinking, as he was thinking the same thing. The more he tried to force his memory, the more his frustration got the better of him. “If I were tae remember anything, I swear ye would be the very first person tae ken.”
Freya curled in on herself slightly, as if the severity of his tone had upset her, and he immediately regretted getting short with her.
Nathan stopped walking and sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, lass.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose firmly. “It’s just that none of this feels any more familiar than anywhere else we’ve been. I feel like I’m daeing something wrong. Like there’s this part of me locked away and the key is just out of me reach. I cannae think of what I could be missing… and it’s giving me a pounding headache.”
Freya’s expression softened and she reached forward, fishing into her medicinal bag for something Nathan didn’t recognize before handing it to him. He nodded once, thanking her under his breath and continued forward, staring at the bit of light- colored wood in his hand with some curiosity, wondering how it could possibly help him.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, one that felt more oppressive than any other ever had between them. Nathan had half a mind to apologize again, to promise Freya he would try harder to remember, but there wasn’t much else he could do. His growing frustration at remembering nothing only served to agitate him even further and he feared that the moment he opened his mouth to speak, the wrong thing would come out.
They arrived at the stable and purchased the last two horses available, though Nathan was not particularly impressed by the one allotted to him. It was large enough to carry him, but it had none of the beauty and grace of the one he had purchased from the man he and Freya had met on the island. If only there had been a way to bring it with them, Nathan would never have parted from that steed. As it was, they saddled up the horses with their supplies. But, before they could leave, Freya asked the stablemaster one more thing.
“Dae ye happen tae ken anything about a ship that left fer the Island of Rum about a month ago? And got caught in a storm?”
The man in front of her shook his head, though he did the kindness of taking a few minutes to really consider it at least, unlike the people at the market stalls. They had all been so instantly dismissive of them and the questions they had been asking.
“Are ye sure?” Freya asked again.
“Come on, Freya.” Nathan said, pulling her by the arm softly toward the two waiting horses. If the man was not going to speak, then there was little to do short of bribing him or threatening him, and despite Freya’s success at the card table, Nathan didn’t want to spend their coin that way—and though he could certainly threaten the man, he doubted it was something Freya would appreciate.
When they were close enough to the horses, he lifted her by her waist to help her up on the saddle. Slipping the reigns around her hands, she looked down at him as he gave her an almost nervous smile.
“We’ll keep asking as we go, surely we will find somebody along the way. The number of people and ships that come in and out of here… we cannae expect them all to remember everybody.” Nathan offered, hoping it would give her some peace of mind, even though he didn’t quite believe his own words.
They traveled for the rest of the day at a leisurely pace, which allowed Nathan all of the time he needed to look around and see if anything sparked his memory. And yet, no matter how much he looked around, he couldn’t remember a single thing.
What if he never remembered his previous life at all? It was a thought he often had, especially when he lay awake late at night as Freya slept. What would he do then? Would he continue his life as Nathan? Would he never find out the truth about himself, about his past?
When the sky above them became too dark to see properly they stopped to make camp. Their general direction was inland, deeper into the heart of Scotland. Perhaps they might even end up coming across a clan that knew him.
Nathan set about making a fire for the pair of them to stay warm, and Freya started to pull out various bits and pieces in order to make dinner for them both.
“Dae ye want some help?” Nathan offered as she pulled out an onion. With a small smile, Freya handed him the onion and started on a batch of carrots instead, her hands working quickly and skillfully to clean them and cut them in small, round pieces.
Compared to her, Nathan felt useless. With a small blade he kept on his person ever since leaving the hut, he slowly and clumsily began to clean and chop the onion, his eyes stinging almost instantly, tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn’t help but sniffle and wipe his cheeks with the back of his hand, the onion seemingly determined to take its revenge on him. When he glanced up at Freya, he found her smirking ever so slightly, seemingly amused by his struggle.
“Is something amusing ye, lass?” he asked, and though Freya’s mouth twisted as she tried to suppress her smile, she simply couldn’t.
“Nay,” she lied.
Nathan let it go, simply because it felt like too much work, trying to cut the onion when he could hardly see and arguing with Freya at the same time. Still, her amusement seemed to never fade.
Finally, he managed to chop the onion into pieces, adding it with great difficulty into the pot.
“I dinnae ken if I have ever seen somebody so uncomfortable with a knife before. I thought that ye were a solider?” Freya teased.
“I was hoping that great wit of yers would take a little bit longer tae resurface, if I’m being honest. Good tae see that ye are fully recovered from yer illness,” Nathan remarked without any real bite as he moved on to the parsnips Freya had placed between them. Given how much smaller they were, it was even more difficult for him to hold them in his larger hands. Freya stopped cutting hers entirely in favor of watching him attempt to work. He began slowly, trying his best to keep the parsnip in the grip of his finger just to prove her wrong, but when he cut the first piece, it managed to ricochet right into his eye.
Nathan hissed in discomfort, recoiling and pulled away, rubbing the area. Freya clamped her hand over her mouth firmly, trying not to laugh, but it hardly mattered when she already seemed so amused.
“Are ye sure that ye dinnae need help?”
Nathan held the knife between them, pointing it at her without any sort of threat. “It’s nae me skills, the knife is just dull.”
“Ah, I see, the knife. Right. Blame the object fer yer inadequacy.” Freya said.
Nathan’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. “If it were sharper, this wouldnae be an issue.”
Without a comment, Freya held her knife by the blade, handing hers to him. It would be a simple matter, exchanging blades so he could work with more ease. The only problem was that Nathan was, indeed, bluffing, and Freya could tell. No matter the knife, he was certain the parsnip would end up cut unevenly all around—and most of it wouldn’t even make it to the pot.
Unwilling to admit defeat or that he was wrong, Nathan pulled out a whet stone from their bag and started to sharpen the blade instead. Testing the metal against his finger and until he was satisfied, he turned back to the task at hand—only to face the exact same struggle as before. Only this time, the parsnip slid right out of his hands and onto the ground between his feet.
Freya bit down on her bottom lip, seemingly to suppress another chuckle, but Nathan easily caught it. The last thing he needed was her mockery when those damned parsnips seemed to have a bone to pick with him.
He shook his head. “Dinnae start with me.”
That was the precise moment when Freya lost her composure entirely, laughing uncontrollably as Nathan simply sat there and watched her, entirely unimpressed. The more he sat there, though, the more it seemed to him that Freya would never stop laughing, her shoulders shaking and her breath coming in gasps. Even when she appeared to be calming down, one look at him was enough to send her once again into hysterical fits of laughter.
It took a long time for her mirth to finally subside, and she had to wipe tears of amusement from the corners of her eyes, the handle of her knife clutched securely in her fingers. Nathan, his lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes narrowed, could only wait for her to compose herself.
“Here! Let me show ye.” Freya giggled and took the other parsnips, showing him how to cut them easily. Nathan watched her carefully, tracing every move of her hands as she cut the parsnip, trying to figure out how she made it look so effortless.
Had he never cut a vegetable in his life? What kind of man was he that he could afford to do so?
With only moderate protest, he started to copy Freya’s movements until he, too, was cutting the vegetables and adding them into the pot. The simmer they had going from the fire smelled incredible, and his appetite began to grow the more he helped Freya cook.
In the end, the food tasted even better than it smelled, much to Nathan’s surprise. He had thought himself so useless for a moment that he feared he would ruin the whole thing, but he devoured his portion and more.
“This is where I miss that bed from the inn.” Freya grinned, reaching for her things and stopping when she caught a whiff of her hands, the smell apparently giving her pause. She slapped her hands together as if that would somehow rid her of any remaining particles. “We smell of onion and food… I think I’m going to bathe in the stream.”
“I’ll keep watch.”
It was his first reaction, the first thing that came to mind. He was attempting to be a gentleman. He swore that he was. He tried to keep his distance and ignore the sound of her dress rustling as she changed out of her clothes. The half glance that he chanced when she stepped into the water was only because of the gasp that she made—strictly only for her own safety. If he happened to see the skin of her back, and the taper of her waist… it was purely accidental.