by L H Whitlock
Deon gave a wide grin showing a row of perfectly straight white teeth. “Anytime. Us Moralains gotta stick together.”
Lit-ta opened her mouth as though to say something, but she closed it after a second of thought and offered a simple, closed-lip smile. “Well, I gotta help Nora get some seeds and food. Catcha later.” She grabbed hold of Nora’s hand and tugged her along.
“We still doing dinner at your place tonight?” Deon called after Lit-ta.
Lit-ta turned. “I would be delighted, Sir Deon,” she said in her playful accent.
“You going to join us, Nora?”
“Oh, um...” Nora looked from Lit-ta to Deon. She wasn’t sure if she should accept the invitation. It was clear the two liked each other. Maybe they wanted to have dinner alone and were just asking to be polite.
Before she could make up her mind, Lit-ta interjected. “Of course, she will.”
“Goodbye, fair maidens!” Deon shouted with a clumsy curtsy.
Nora found herself smiling. Again, she wondered what this man had done to get himself here, but she figured it really didn’t matter. She would need to learn not to inquire and judge the people she would be living with. Hadn’t they all come here to have a better life?
Lit-ta laughed and tugged Nora through the crowd of people. “Come on. We need to get the rest of your supplies, so you’re comfortable for the night. You may want another blanket. It gets so cold at night. I’m still not used to it.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll have to come back tomorrow for it. I still have to get firewood tonight.”
“If you go around and use the trail behind your house it will take you past an area where people often cut wood. There’s a nice big log that’s great for a table. If you’re lucky, Grave or one of the other men cut extra and left some behind.”
The women stopped at a booth featuring racks lined with bags of seeds. Nora flipped through them and selected a few of the easier ones. Since she didn’t know the PH of the soil or how nutritious the soil was, she would start with a few quick ones. Lit-ta dropped behind her and stared into the crowd.
Nora waited until the man behind the booth was finished with his current customer. She raised the four bags of seeds and smiled, feeling confident that not everyone here was bad after meeting Deon.
“Hi! I’m Nora. I just got in last night.” She smiled.
The man crossed his arms, tucking his thumbs into his armpits. He looked rough like he had just been in a fight and the bruises on his face were still healing and turning that yellow color before blending back in with his tanned face. His red hair was messy and crusty as if he’d gone days without showering. He was about the same size as Deon, but instead of soft brown eyes, this man’s were a strange gray, a few shades off from that of his shirt.
“Okay. What you got to trade for them?” The words nipped at Nora, and they didn’t hold any of the friendly warmth as Deon’s had.
“I have Tints. How many Tints are they?”
The man raised a brow. “You have Tints? That’ll be three. Normally, it’s one per bag, but since you’re a snub, I’ll give ya one for free.” His eyes seemed to look right through Nora, and he grinned and winked.
“Um, of course. Th–thank you.” Nora opened up her sack, pulled out a handful of coins, and dropped the few extra into the bag before tucking it into her pocket. She offered them to the man. He studied her for several long, uncomfortable moments before gathering them, the tips of his fingers scraping against her palms as he did so. A shiver traveled up Nora’s arm, but she forced herself to remain calm.
“Good doin’ business with ya. Come ‘round any time.” He gave a stiff nod then looked beyond her. “Good seeing ya, too, Lit.”
Lit-ta pulled Nora quickly down the path without returning the man’s greeting. As they made their way home neither spoke of the man or the odd transaction and it wasn’t until they were clear of the market that Lit-ta’s cherry personality returned.
7
Grave slammed down the ax, the sounds of a satisfying tearing of wood followed by the hollow thud of his blade against the stump filling his ears. The freshly cut logs fell, one on each side, and he finally came out of his daze. His palms stung with fresh callouses and he glanced at the stacks of logs laying off to the side. The piles were now so large that split wood rolled off creating a sloppy, littered mess in the general area. How long had he been at it? He dropped the ax and flipped his hood up.
He found splitting logs and any other manual labor therapeutic. His demons enjoyed the rhythm of the violent bursts, and it tended to keep his aggression at bay. He wasn’t used to the simple life offered by the sanctuary, and sometimes thought he would go crazy.
He turned back toward town, but froze. He didn’t have any desire to wander out of the woods. He enjoyed the fresh air and solitude. The animals avoided him only because they avoided everyone, not because they thought of him as a monster like the people in the settlement.
A bird chirped and he closed his eyes, listening for its friends to respond. He felt more at home here than he did around other people, a feeling he accepted a long time ago.
A twig broke, the soft cry of a female following with a thud cushioned by dried leaves. Grave opened his eyes and pushed out a wave of air through his nose. Couldn’t he have a moment of stillness without someone coming around?
It was too close to dusk for people to be wandering in the forest. Even if the wall kept the beasts out, the woods could be dangerous.
“Ow! Darn it. I don’t… Where do I…” A heavy feminine sigh followed the frustrated words.
Grave started back toward town. He would only make things worse if he tried to help. He would only frighten whatever female was having difficulty. It didn’t sound as though she had been seriously hurt, and besides, she was close enough to town to be able to call for help if needed. In any case, she certainly didn’t need help from him, and wouldn’t want it.
“Grave!”
He froze as the rustling of leaves grew closer. What woman would be calling for him in the forest, especially so close to dusk?
“Grave!”
He turned, ready to face the fear on the woman’s face when she realized just how close she was to him. Instead, his eyes settled on the woman from the previous night. Nora, as he recalled. He liked to think it took him a moment to conjure her name, but in reality, he had been thinking of her since the night in the rain. About how she looked him in the face despite his cloaked form, and despite him being masked in the darkness of night. At least his face had been completely concealed. Now he looked down at her tiny form, the top of her head barely reaching the bottom of his chest. He felt like a beast standing before this beauty, a woman too fragile to thrive in a place like this.
Her blue eyes were a shade he had never seen before, and her hair cascaded over her shoulders in a dark purple wave. Her pale skin had no scars and seemed so delicate that his rough hands would cut her if he dared to do so much as brush his thumb over her cheek.
Instead of the sopping wet skirt and shawl she wore the previous night, she now wore the common canvas pants and a t-shirt she had tucked loosely into her pants. With Vivid Flor beginning to set, a chill snuck into the air, and she shivered.
“You should be in town.” His voice sliced through the peaceful air. Grave hated how deep and gruff his pitch was and the fear it instilled in people. But he had no control over his voice, even if it did sound like rocks grinding together.
Nora smiled. “I know. It’s getting late. I just needed to get some firewood and was told there was an area back here where people cut logs.”
Grave made a slight motion with his head over his shoulder. She peered around him, her face lighting up.
“Wow! I thought I would have to cut some logs myself and, well, I’m not really supposed to be doing things like that. I mean… I’m already tired, and that would be such a big job. Did you do all this?” she asked, spreading her arms out to indicate the logs laying about.
> “Help yourself.” The only people who ever said so many words to him were Rikar and Helic. Nora definitely was an odd girl. No, a woman, he corrected himself. He saw that in the sway of her hips and the hint of her curves beneath her clothing. She was no girl.
“Thank you!” The warmth in her eyes reminded him of when she had wrapped her arms around him, her small arms engulfing him with heat. He hadn’t been hugged since he was a child.
She walked past him and bent to pick up the logs. “So, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.”
“Awkward?” Grave wasn’t sure he had ever not felt awkward. But the reason for the awkwardness was because he was a monster trying to fit in with society. An outcast. A murderer. A giant. Not because some woman was afraid of him. She wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last to reject knowing him.
She looked over her shoulder at him while still kneeling and gathering up logs. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to have a breakdown. Ugh. I promise I’m not unstable or something like that.” She stood up with five logs precariously balanced in her cradled arms. The stack was so high she used her chin to balance them in place. “I was just overwhelmed. It had been a long night.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said softly and found that it was the absolute truth. Normally, he didn’t care if he frightened anyone; he had no control over that. But for some reason he didn’t want to scare Nora away, something about her fascinated him. The way she was both timid, talkative, and brave in a way she didn’t realize all seemed so alien to him and he found himself wanting to figure this strange woman out.
He knelt and gathered an armful of logs. Five logs wouldn’t keep her warm through the night, but her tiny arms couldn’t carry more, and night was quickly approaching. At least that’s the reason he gave himself for helping.
She laughed, the melody swelling his heart. “You didn’t frighten me.”
He searched for the right words but found himself walking with her in silence. Side by side they strode through the woods, still an arm’s length apart, but closer than most people ever dared get to him.
“You didn’t frighten me, Grave,” she repeated. “Sure, it was dark and pouring rain, and I couldn’t really see anything but your shadowed form. And you are massive, and that hood doesn’t help, but that wasn’t why I cried.”
“Why did you cry?” His breathing paused, as though his body didn’t want any sound corrupting her answer.
She sighed and wrinkled her nose a few times. “I… I didn’t think I would get asylum. I was so worried that I would be found and forced to go back. I guess I didn’t realize just how afraid and tired I was until you accepted me inside the walls.”
Grave looked down at her and saw tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. Her nose had gone red, but she didn’t allow the tears to fall. He felt the tug to ask her what she was running from, but didn’t ask.
“You are safe now.” His voice came out gruff, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“This is the first time in a while I’ve truly felt safe. Thank you.”
Several moments and steps later, he nodded in response. The two walked in silence until they got to the edge of town.
“I live in this house.” She motioned as best she could to the bungalow on the edge of the forest. He breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t have to carry the stack of logs into town. Not many wandered this far away from the shops unless they had to.
“I’ll set these inside for you,” Grave said.
“Really! Thank you so much. I’m still getting used to things. I should have known I would need to get logs for the oven. That’s how I heated my place back home, but going to the market took longer than I thought, and I didn’t leave enough time.”
“Did you find everything you needed?”
“I did. I got some food, fabric to make drapes, and some seeds to plant. I’m going to harvest and can some food, so I have something to trade with.”
Nora opened the door, which wasn’t locked, and stepped inside. She dumped the logs next to the fireplace and stacked them. Grave had to duck and tilt his body to follow her inside. He waited for her to finish straightening her logs before dropping the ones he carried by the fireplace. But Nora reached up and plucked them from his arms before he had a chance to do it himself.
After she had stacked all the logs from his arms, she turned back and studied him, her blue eyes settling on his sleeves.
“Oh! You got all dirty.” She brushed at the fabric of his pewter cloak. Grave looked down at her, watching her hands brush over his arms. Bits of bark and wood drifted down to the floor beneath them. He froze, not daring to move an inch and risk frightening her. The muscles in his arms tightened, going rigid with the rest of his body. How long had it been since anyone touched him?
“There!” she said with a smile once she was content with his cleanliness.
“You need to lock your door,” Grave rumbled, his voice hard and demanding.
Nora frowned and looked over at the still opened door and back to him. “I know. The lock isn’t working. I need to fix it. The key just turns and turns.”
“Many of these homes were broken into during the war. It looks like yours didn’t suffer a ton of damage, but you need to replace the lock immediately.”
Nora bit at her pink bottom lip and nodded. “I will, promise. I’m sorry.”
Dammit! He had come across as though he were scolding her. Of course, she hadn’t replaced the lock yet; she just got into the settlement. And she didn’t need anyone telling her what to do, she was a grown woman, despite her small stature.
“You can take off your hood if you want, it’s not going to rain inside here. Hopefully,” she added with a grin followed by a trill of laughter.
It took Grave a moment to realize she was teasing him, and misunderstanding why he wore the hood in the first place. A bit of rain or even a downpour didn’t bother him. He had been through worse. It was for everyone else’s benefit that he stayed hidden.
Grave found a smile threatening to tug on the corners of his mouth. He studied her flawless face, the little curve of her nose, the small tips of her ears poking out from her hair. She tucked a strand of dark purple hair over her shoulders, and his fingers rubbed together in response as he imagined the silky strands in his hand. Had he ever touched a woman’s hair in such a way? He didn’t think so. The only time he had ever felt a woman’s hair was when his fist had tangled in it during a victor’s celebration.
“Do you know how to start the fire?” Grave asked.
“Of course, I do!” Nora swatted his arm and Grave snatched her hand.
She froze, her eyes like saucers, and clouding with uncertainty. Anger swelled inside Grave. He felt his face tighten and his muscles clench. Damn him. He released her, but she didn’t immediately pull away. I’ve scared her senseless. Dammit! She can’t even move!
His jaw clenched, and he took a rigid step back. “Nora. I didn’t mean…” His voice trailed off. How could he explain? How could he tell her it was instinct?
Nora studied him. She stared at his face as though trying to see what was past his low hood. He had designed it so it blocked most of his flesh so no one could see his ugliness. Yet, here she was searching, and he felt himself grow angry in anticipation of her judgment.
She grabbed his much larger hand in both of hers and flipped it over to look at the palms. Her thumb brushed over his bright red callouses. “You did this while splitting wood today?”
Confusion had Grave narrowing his eyes. “Yes.” Was she not going to mention him grabbing her so roughly or respond to his aggression?
“I have some herbs that will help.” She tugged at his arm, but he remained plastered in place. What was her plan? What did it matter if his hands were calloused, they were the hands of a killer.
Nora eventually took the hint and dropped his hand. She walked into the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets until she found a bo
wl and spoon, then worked vigorously at mixing something. The smell of flowers and spices wafted through the air, tickling his nose with the unusual mixture. After a minute she came back to him, holding the small bowl now filled with a lavender scented cream.
“Um… Can you hold out your hands?” Her voice wobbled with nerves. He did as she asked but only because he felt bad for causing her anxiety.
She took a dollop of the cream and massaged it into his palms using one finger. His skin tingled as she rubbed his hands with a gentleness he had never experienced before. A feminine, perfumey scent now clung to him, but instead of feeling annoyed, Grave found himself grateful he would be able to take a sliver of her home with him this night.
“There you go.” She took a step back and looked into his face again, searching beneath his mask. Her eyes glittered with the expectation of gratitude he had no idea how to give.
Instead, Grave turned around, reached beneath the fire burning stove and plucked off the sack of coin she had stowed beneath. He stared at the worn fabric and judging by the weight she had quite a bit of money on her.
Fool, bringing money to a place like this. He had outlawed it many years ago because all money did in a settlement full of criminals was cause problems.
“Excuse me!” Nora said, startled. Before she could object further, he knelt and pried a board off the floor and stuck the coin beneath it before fitting it back in place.
Nora stared at the floor, her mouth opened in thought.
“You’re lucky I’m letting you keep this,” Grave said in a hard tone. “Never bring it out of this place, it is only here for when you decide to go back to Yunnika. I’ll have a few words with Rikar; he should have confiscated this.”
Grave didn’t wait for her to respond, he turned and ducked back out the doorway, pulling it shut after him. Once in the chilled evening air, he felt calmer like his mind was finally his own again. He stared at his palms and lifted them to his face, breathing in the floral scent, and his mind immediately brought up a picture of Nora’s pretty, flawless face.
