Chapter 6
Gasps swept the hall, louder than before. Sprig let out a sharp mewl, as though speaking his outrage.
Fawn’s breath caught, fury blazing hot in her veins as Rhodes stood tall before her, his trap sprung and no hint of regret in his dark, tenacious gaze.
How easily he had laid his trap. How neatly he had turned her plea for kindness into a weapon against her. And how foolish she had been to stand before him, believing she could appeal to any shred of decency in him.
The silence in the hall pressed heavy, every eye fixed upon her, waiting for her response.
Before she could speak, Elune raised her frail voice. “If I could stay only the night, and have a hot meal, I will leave with the morning light.”
Rhodes’s gaze did not shift from Fawn, though his words carried clearly through the hall. “That can be granted.”
Fawn’s head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing. “You would turn her away to freeze in the snow?”
“I turn her away?” His dark brows arched, the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips. “Nay, Fawn. You do. Agree to wed me, and she remains. Refuse, and you send her into the cold.”
A ripple of shock moved through the men, their eyes darting from Rhodes to the flame-haired woman who dared stand against him.
“You—” Fawn began, her voice trembling with fury.
The doors burst open. A young lad stumbled into the hall, cheeks red with cold, breathless from running.
“My lord!” he cried, not waiting for leave to speak. “It’s Bella, your mare. She’s gone to foal, but it’s not going well. She’s down, thrashing, the men fear she’ll not survive.”
Fawn was already moving toward the lad, her voice sharp. “Take me to her. Now.”
The lad blinked, startled by her command, and looked to Rhodes, who was coming up behind Fawn with rapid steps.
His hand shot out, catching her arm, a fiery anger on his face. “You think to give orders in my hall?”
She whirled on him, eyes blazing. “I am your best chance for your mare and foal to survive.”
For a heartbeat, silence hung taut between them, his grip like iron on her arm. Then Rhodes released her with a curt nod and ordered, “You will do as I say and no more.”
The hall erupted into murmurs as Fawn and Rhodes left side by side, the urgency of the moment pulling them out into the cold together.
The stables were in an uproar when they arrived, the sharp scent of hay and animals mixing with fear.
Stable hands rushed from stall to stall, their voices urgent.
In the far stall, Bella, Rhodes’s prized mare, lay on her side, sweat darkening her coat, her flanks heaving as she thrashed weakly in the straw.
“Hold her steady!” Rhodes commanded, stepping into the stall. “Fetch rope. We’ll haul the foal if need be!”
“Nay!” Fawn’s voice cut through the din.
She pushed past him and dropped to her knees beside the mare, one hand stroking Bella’s damp neck, murmuring soft words. The mare’s frantic rolling quieted under her touch, though her sides continued to heave.
Fawn looked up, her green eyes flashing. “If you force her, you’ll kill them both. Let me tend to her. If you don’t, Bella and the foal will surely die.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Stable hands froze, waiting on their laird. Rhodes’s jaw tightened, unused to yielding. At last, he gave a curt nod.
“Do what you must.”
Fawn exhaled quickly, then reached for her cloak ties.
But Sprig shifted in the pouch, mewling anxiously.
She glanced up at Rhodes, exasperation softening her fire for a heartbeat.
“Here—hold him,” she said, thrusting the kitten into his arms before shrugging off her cloak and rolling up her sleeves.
Rhodes stiffened as the small, warm bundle squirmed against him. Sprig burrowed into the folds of the strip of plaid that crossed his chest and purred, as though utterly content there. Something stirred in Rhodes’s eyes, but he said nothing, watching instead as Fawn bent to the mare.
It was grueling work. Bella strained and groaned, her body trembling with the effort. Fawn soothed her, stroking her neck, whispering encouragement as she guided the foal’s progress. More than once, Bella faltered, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“It is almost done, Bella. Don’t give up now,” Fawn urged, her hands slick with effort, her face set in fierce concentration. “You have a fine foal waiting to meet you.”
Rhodes gripped the stall door, every muscle taut as he watched. Never had he seen someone fight with such gentleness, such stubborn, unrelenting care. And never had he heard a voice so soothing, so encouraging, so full of confidence that you simply could not help but trust it.
The mare gave a great, shuddering heave. A murmur of despair rippled through the stable hands, but Fawn only pressed closer, guiding, urging, refusing to yield.
“One more, Bella,” she whispered fiercely. “Just one more.”
With a final straining push, the foal slid free onto the straw, limp for a terrible heartbeat, then shook, gave a thin, wet whicker, and drew his first breath.
Relief broke like thunder. Stable hands cheered, Bella hurried to her feet to nuzzle and tend her newborn, and Fawn sank back on her heels, tears brightening her eyes though her lips curved in a trembling smile.
Rhodes stepped forward, Sprig nestled against his chest, his dark gaze fixed on her—not the mare, not the foal, but Fawn. The firelight caught her curls, damp with sweat, her skin flushed, her hands tender as she helped the foal and his mother. She looked radiant, fierce, and alive.
“You saved them both,” he said, his voice low and roughened with something he hadn’t meant to reveal.
Fawn looked up at him, her chest still rising fast. “Because you let me.”
His gaze lingered on her, the kitten’s steady purr vibrating against him, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, Rhodes felt the stir of something gentler than power. He reached out to help her to her feet.
Fawn waited for him to thank her and when he remained silent, she went to a bucket filled with clean water and scrubbed her hands, her fingers trembling faintly from the strain of the work. Behind her, she caught the whispers of the stable hands, soft and awed.
“She saved them both.”
“Aye, never seen the like.”
“Brave lass, that one.”
Their words warmed her as she dried her hands on a cloth and slipped her cloak back around her shoulders.
Sprig was curled, sound asleep, against Rhodes’s chest, the small rise and fall of his breathing at odds with the hard, insistent man whose plaid cradled him. Fawn stepped forward to take him, but Rhodes’s hand closed around her arm before she could reach him.
Without a word, he steered her out of the stables, his stride long and unrelenting. She matched his pace, annoyance prickling under her skin.
For the briefest moment, as torchlight brushed his face, she thought she saw a softening in his dark eyes, a flare of something unguarded. But he said nothing, and he had yet to offer her a grain of thanks.
Her temper flared. “You owe me, Rhodes. Bella and her foal live because of me. If you wish to repay me, allow Elune to remain and make her home here.”
He halted abruptly, turning toward her. His grip on her arm tightened, not in cruelty but in conflict. Gratitude stirred within him, fierce and unfamiliar, tangled with something deeper he could not name. Yet her demand pierced it like a blade.
His jaw hardened. “You have until tomorrow morning to decide if the old woman stays or goes.”
Fawn’s eyes widened, fury and disbelief colliding. But before she could speak, he released her and turned away, toward the keep.
A few paces on, he stopped. Turning back, he held Sprig out to her, the kitten drowsy and limp with sleep. His hand brushed hers briefly as she took him, the warmth of the touch lingering.
Then Rhodes walked away, his voice low, barely more than a growl of words meant only for himself.