THREE
Lurenz
Lurenz shrugged into his heavy coat, muttering, “Make it a dozen.”
“Actually, no.” The cleaver fell again. “Make it a dozen, I can wash the rest and offer them to Herr Wessen.”
“Why stop at twelve?” he asked. “The hens have been laying and I do not want to take a second trip to the coop.”
“You never want to take a trip anywhere.” The cleaver fell a third time, and Onna’s head popped out of the kitchen, followed by the rest of her. She wiped her hands on her apron, and narrowed her eyes. “But why not to the coop?”
“The coop is in the barn.”
“It is our barn.”
Gods above, how to explain? The sun had risen an hour ago and Valentin would arrive any minute. Lurenz needed more time to adjust to his presence before he tried to gather the courage to offer him a place to stay.
“Is it because the herd is in our barn?” Onna glided closer, head cocked like a pup’s at an interesting noise.
“No.” Lurenz put his back to his sister, hiding the heat flooding his cheeks.
“Of course not. Why would the herd be an issue? They have been wintering here for years.”
“Exactly.” He shoved his foot into a boot, cinching the ties with a sharp jerk.
“And we practically grew up with Valentin, so he could not be the reason you do not want to visit the barn.”
And shoved his foot into the other boot. “He has not come by yet.”
“Oh?”
The mockery in that single syllable sent the heat from Lurenz’s cheeks simmering into his ears.
If Onna were not standing right there, he would have smacked his forehead.
Neither of them had left the house that morning, how would Lurenz know whether or not Valentin was there unless he had been looking for him?
Which he had not, of course. He was only checking the road and scanning their property from their attic windows while he gathered his winter gear, not looking for anyone or anything in particular.
And besides, the barn door was firmly shut and the lantern doused. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that none other than livestock and hens waited within.
“I’ll bring a dozen.” He stormed outside, trudging across the yard with Onna’s musical laughter at his back.
Grass snapped and crackled under his feet, stiff with frost. Lurenz’s breath clouded in front of his face, the winter air soothing heated skin as he approached the barn. He shouldered the beam securing the doors, hoisting it from the iron cradle and guiding it along the front of the barn.
Sweating from the effort, he hauled the broad door open, jumping back as a large, burly, blond figure toppled from the barn.
“Gods!”
“What the—” Valentin rolled onto his front, pressing his hands in the frosted grass and raising his head. “Oh. Lurenz.”
“What are you—” Lurenz backed away, a hand raised half in surprise, half to cover the blush no doubt making him as red as a strawberry. Valentin blinked slowly, large, amber eyes gazing up at him in a manner that, on his hands and knees, lips parted and hair mussed from sleep, was downright erotic.
Lurenz shut his eyes tight, yet the image lingered, more lurid and suggestive in the privacy of his mind.
“Sorry.” Valentin grumbled. Hooves scuffed the earth and his shadow fell over Lurenz. He opened his eyes, regretting it immediately.
The Senn at his full height was worse than on his knees.
He towered over Lurenz, every bit of him thick where Lurenz was lean.
His shirt stretched tight across his chest, the loose ties revealing a burst of curling blond, enticingly soft-looking hair.
A wintry breeze cut across the yard, and Valentin shivered, nipples tightening beneath the thin linen at Lurenz’s eye-level.
He scrunched his face, mouth curling into a grimace as heat suffused him. Gods, how would he manage the entire winter?
Valentin cleared his throat, hooves shuffling as he backed away. “I should explain.”
“Yes,” Lurenz barked, wincing at his tone. He glared over Valentin’s head. “Explain. What are you doing in my barn?”
“The herd.” Valentin hooked his thumb at the open door.
“Yes, the herd, but how did you get in there?” Lurenz darted into the barn’s warmth. Cows raised their heads, blinking slowly at him and their Senn. “The beam was in place, and I saw you walk down the road.”
“Came through the back.” Valentin filled the space behind Lurenz, his body blocking the breeze and making him even hotter.
Sweat beaded along his spine, his breaths shortening with…
panic. Panic was all. He was not used to being so close to Valentin, and the Senn was so large.
He filled the door, his grassy, earthy scent wrapping around Lurenz like a shawl.
“Over the wall?” Lurenz twisted, lifting his chin to meet Valentin’s eyes. “You scaled a ten-foot wall to sleep in my barn?”
Valentin stared at him for a long moment before straightening to his full height. Lurenz’s mouth went dry, every inch of him painfully aware that a ten-foot wall was barely a hurdle for a Senn.
“I did.” He nodded, mouth set firm and lids half lowered. “The inn is closed.”
“I—yes.”
“It was either climb the wall and sleep in the barn, or freeze at the gate until dawn.”
When the gatekeepers would charge him the Threshold Tax. It was not steep, and every coin of the tax went toward fuel for the torches at the gate, oil for the hinges, wood for repairs and the gatekeepers’ salary. But it and the cold together would deter any traveler.
“I’ll pay, of course,” he continued. “Your parents asked a pfennig for the night—”
“I should have mentioned the Inn was closed,” Lurenz said.
Too quickly, too loudly. Cows mooed, huffing as they rose from the hay.
He tugged his coat collar, shame raising the unbearable temperature of his skin.
Valentin followed the movement, mouth softening as he tracked the flush Lurenz could feel spreading down his throat.
“I should have known.” He shouldered around Lurenz and aimed for his herd.
“Stay with us,” he blurted.
Valentin stilled, eyeing Lurenz over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Pardon?”
“Stay here, at the farm. In the house, I mean. You can have the front room for whatever rate my parents agreed to. Or less, if that’s too much for the season.
I do not know what the Inn charged, but we could match the rate.
” He needed to stop talking. He had made the offer, all Valentin needed to do was accept.
“Onna is better with figures than I am, she spends her day in the market haggling prices, and I’m sure she will tell me a coin is too steep, but it’s better than climbing the wall and sleeping in the barn with your herd.
” His mouth kept running, and the longer it ran, the longer Valentin kept looking at him. “Or in the loft on a pile of hay—”
Oh, Gods, now he was imagining Valentin in the hay, his long body sprawled out and his blonde curls tousled, falling over his brow and tangled in his horns.
“Alright.” Valentin continued to his herd. Did Lurenz imagine he walked stiffly? Held himself too tight? “I will discuss the rate with Onna. If you are sure?”
“It was not my idea.”
Valentin’s hooves stuttered in a misstep. A coarse huff left him, and his shoulders dropped. “Alright.”