Woven Dreams

by N. J. Walters

  Chapter Eleven

  Bakra Castle was huge. Genny stood between Jarmon and Garrik feeling dwarfed by the high walls of the main hall. Rich tapestries adorned the entire area, and in spite of her fear, Genny wished she could take a closer look. Several long tables filled the space, including an ornate one that sat on a raised dais at the head of the room. It was an imposing room, yet for all that it retained an air of hominess.

  It wasn’t anything like Craddock Keep, which was smaller and more rustic. Her brothers were as likely to smash the furniture in a fight or toss their leftovers onto the floor for their hunting dogs. It had been a full-time job for Genny to keep it relatively clean. But here, everything sparkled, yet it was obviously well lived-in.

  She hadn’t had a chance to see much of the outside of the castle as she’d been quickly hustled inside. What she had seen had been very impressive. The people had watched them with curiosity in their eyes. They’d all looked healthy, clean and well cared for, as did their homes.

  Again the contrast was astounding. The people of Craddock Keep were a sullen, dirty bunch who did their best to ignore anything that did not directly pertain to them. No one wanted to attract the attention of any of her brothers. Here, they called out to Jarmon and Garrik, greeting them by name. Not only that, but both men responded in kind. They even knew the names of the laughing barefoot children who’d run alongside them as they made their way through the large metal gate, past the stone walls and up to the huge front door of the castle.

  An air of prosperity clung to their home and Genny found herself wishing that it were hers as well. However, she knew that wasn’t likely. Jarmon and Garrik might want her here, but she couldn’t imagine that their older brothers would allow it.

  “Genny.” Garrik nudged her gently. While she’d been busy gawking at the room, several people had assembled by the gigantic fireplace that flanked one wall. Comfortable-looking chairs were scattered around it, but no one was sitting. Everyone was staring. At her.

  A tall, hard-looking man stood slightly in front, his arms folded across his massive chest. There was no doubting that this was the eldest Bakra brother. There was an air of power that clung to the man, but if that wasn’t enough, he bore the thin braids that fell from either temple, proclaiming him the eldest son. His pale blue eyes were so familiar, yet there was no warmth in their depths. His face could have been sculpted from stone, it appeared so hard and forbidding.

  Genny swallowed hard and prayed he wouldn’t slay her where she stood. She trusted Jarmon and Garrik, but she didn’t know what to expect from their family. There was another man and a woman standing just behind him. The man looked enough like the rest of them that she knew he must be the other brother. The woman was slender with black hair and dark eyes. She couldn’t quite tell the color from this distance, but they appeared kind, which gave Genny some hope.

  “I knew you were going hunting, but I admit that I didn’t know you’d be hunting such spectacular game.” The deep rumbling voice seemed to fill the entire room. The man’s expression seemed to lighten for a moment, but she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just a trick of the afternoon light streaming in through the high windows.

  Garrik laughed as he stepped forward. “This is Genny. We discovered her by a river not a day’s walk from here.” He turned back toward her and held out his hand. She hesitated, not wanting to get any closer than she was. The man was downright intimidating the way he stared at her.

  Jarmon placed his hand on her lower back, urging her forward. He leaned down and whispered so that no one else could hear him. “I will not let anyone harm you. Trust me.” She’d already hurt him enough with her actions, she would not disgrace him in front of his family. Bravely she took a step forward, bracing for the worst.

  “Genny,” Garrik continued, as if she hadn’t hesitated at all. “This is our eldest brother, Zaren.” She nodded at him.

  He cocked one eyebrow as he continued to study her. She stifled the urge to squirm. “Welcome to Bakra Castle, Genny. May I present my wife, Jane.” The woman smiled and stepped forward to stand at her husband’s side. “And our brother, Bador.” The other man stepped forward. It was amazing how much they all resembled each other with their long blond hair, their strong facial features and their massive bodies.

  “Welcome, Genny.” Jane stepped forward as if to greet her, but Genny stepped back. The other woman faltered and glanced at Garrik with an inquisitive expression on her face.

  Genny could not accept the hospitality of these fine people. Not until they knew who she really was. “I’m sorry,” she began. Zaren was glaring at her again, his arm wrapped protectively around Jane’s shoulders. She hadn’t meant to hurt Jane’s feelings, but they had to know the truth. She felt small and unworthy standing here in front of them, knowing how much pain and sorrow her brothers had visited upon this family. Yes, Zaren had killed two of her brothers, but only because they’d ambushed him on his own land.

  She turned toward Jarmon, silently beseeching him. He sighed, but he nodded. “Are you sure?” He stroked his hand down the side of her face and she took comfort from his touch.

  “Yes.” She realized that the three people across from them were staring. At first, she thought it was her they were looking at, but their expressions were more of shock than anything. They were staring at Jarmon’s left hand where it rested against the side of her face. Genny scowled at them. Why would they stare at his hand? Did they think less of him because of his injury. Glaring at them all, she covered his hand with her, wrapped her fingers around it and brought it back by her side. They could think what they liked of her, but they’d better not say anything against Jarmon.

  Zaren cocked his eyebrow at her again, but a smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Sheathe your claws, my lady. We meant no offense.”

  Bador and Jane made no pretense of hiding their amusement. Both of them had huge smiles on their faces. Genny felt like a fool and tried to release Jarmon’s hand, but he tangled his fingers with hers, refusing to release her.

  Sighing, she stared up at him again. “Tell them everything.”

  Jarmon started from the moment they’d found her seated by the edge of the river. Garrik chimed in occasionally, adding details to the tale. She felt their shock when Jarmon told them she’d claimed to be a tapestry bride. Thankfully, both men left out the intimate details of their sexual encounters, but they made no effort to hide the fact they had done all in their power to convince her to choose one of them as a husband. Genny’s face burned at the knowing expressions on the older brothers’ faces as they glanced at Jane. It helped Genny to relax slightly when she saw the blush on the other woman’s face as well.

  That didn’t last long. Within moments, she was so tense she felt as if her body might crack with the strain. They’d reached the part in the story about the tapestry and how she’d lied about being a tapestry bride and run away in the middle of the night. She stared down at the floor, not able to face them as the rest of the story unfolded. The rough stone had been worn smooth over the years of people walking on it. Genny concentrated on the veins of color running through some of the stones. She tried to block out the words being spoken, but it was impossible. When Garrik told them about her brothers almost finding them on the trail, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

  The silence that greeted the end of the story seemed to grow until it filled the entire room. “So,” Zaren finally broke the quiet, his voice low and angry. “You are Genita Craddock.”

  Slowly, she raised her head, tilting her chin upward to meet his furious gaze. “Yes.” There was really nothing else to add. She could not change who her family were.

  Jarmon released his hold on her hand and caught her chin with his fingers, turning it toward him. “Will you trust me and do as I ask?”

  Considering she had brought this discord to their family, she couldn’t refuse. “Yes.”

  His blue eyes softened as he stroked his thumb over her cheek. “
Then turn around.” She wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but she spun around until her back was to everyone but Jarmon. He stood in front of her, his hands on the laces of her dress. Oh, gods, what was he going to do? Then she knew. He was going to show her back to them. She whimpered and his hands stilled. She could sense the growing curiosity of his family.

  Garrik reached out and caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. “It’s the only way.”

  She hung her head and waited, giving her silent permission. Jarmon made quick work of her dress, pulling it down to her waist. In spite of her resolve, her shoulders stiffened when he began to tug at the straps of her chemise.

  “Is this necessary?” Genny could hear the strain in the other woman’s voice.

  “I think it is,” Jarmon countered as he lowered the thin fabric to her waist, exposing her back to view.

  “Merciful God.” Jane gasped.

  Genny felt totally exposed. She’d never felt this vulnerable in her entire life. Still, she stood tall. She would not be ashamed of the marks of her brothers’ brutality. They were not her fault.

  “What is this?” Zaren demanded.

  “This is Genny’s life at Craddock Keep. This is the love and care her brothers have shown her.” Jarmon’s fingers trailed lightly over the scars, both old and new. Goose bumps raced over her flesh. “She was running because they’d promised her to the Luther brothers.”

  He let that statement hang in the air as he carefully tugged her chemise and then her dress back up. Tenderly, he tied her laces and turned her back to meet his family’s gaze. Garrik stood on her other side, taking her hand in his. She was glad for the support of both. Without it, she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her.

  “All of us have been abused by the Craddock brothers, but none so much as Genny. If she would have one of us as husband, we would be honored to have her as wife.” His voice hardened, his tone implacable. “Is our future wife welcome here? Or should we go?”

  “No,” Genny pulled away from both men, taking a quick step backward when they reached out to her. “You cannot do this. I will not let you.”

  “Come here, Genny.” Garrik took a step toward her, stopping when she continued to back away.

  “I will not accept either of you, so you must let me go.” It broke her heart to say those words, but she would not allow them to forsake their home for her. She appealed to Zaren, certain he would have no problem fulfilling her wishes. “Let me go. Just let me go and I will leave here. My brothers will follow me and will not trouble your family any longer.” Tears pricked her eyes, but she willed them back. Now was the time to stand strong. There would be time for tears later.

  For the longest moment no one spoke. Tears were rolling down Jane’s face, but Genny focused on Zaren. His word was law here. Except, she couldn’t read the expression as he walked toward her. She took a step away and then forced herself to stand her ground. The only way she could get out of here was with his permission. To protect Jarmon and Garrik, she could face down anyone, including the fierce Zaren Bakra.

  He towered over her, blocking the others from her view. Breathing was almost impossible, as his mere presence seemed to suck away all the air. Light-headed, she swayed slightly, but then determinedly locked her knees and stared at his broad chest, which was directly in front of her. She saw a slight movement off to her left and flinched, sure he was about to land a blow.

  He sucked in a breath, but the blow never came. Instead fingers lightly cupped the back of her head, tipping it upward. Genny blanked her face as best she could, hiding all emotion as she met his fearsome stare. It was his eyes that mesmerized her. They swirled with something that she thought might be sympathy or caring, but she couldn’t be sure. The only thing she was certain of was that he no longer appeared angry.

  “Little sister,” he began. He stopped, swallowed hard and stroked his hand over her hair once again. Clearing his throat, he continued. “I could think of no better wife for my brothers. The fact that you would give them up and face your brothers’ fury alone just so they are not at odds with their family speaks well of your character. The fact that you bear the scars of your brothers’ mistreatment makes it all the more incredible. I could never allow any woman to return to the clutches of men who have abused her in such a way. Not if I still wanted to call myself a man.”

  Genny was stunned, not quite able to believe what Zaren was saying. Her head was spinning, and her body felt as though it didn’t quite belong to her, like she was outside staring at what was happening, slightly removed from it all. Perhaps she’d fainted and this was just a dream. Zaren started to speak again, so she forced herself to listen. “It is obvious that you love them.”

  It wasn’t a question, yet she answered. After all the lies she’d told, she would not hold back this truth. “Yes.”

  Zaren smiled. “Yes.” Then he laughed. “You are a woman of few words, Genita. Or should I call you Genny?” When she nodded, he continued. “Welcome to the family, Genny.”

  The rest of them surged forward as if that had been the sign they’d been waiting for. Jarmon snatched her into his arms, almost crushing her in his embrace. She clung just as tightly to him. He anchored her, made her feel real. “I would never have let you go. I told you once, there is nowhere you could go that I could not find you.”

  His broken words were muffled against the curve of her neck. “Thank the gods for that,” she whispered as she pulled away to place a tender kiss on his ruined cheek. “Thank the gods for you.”

  Garrik plucked her from his brother’s arms and squeezed her tight. “Stay with us, Genny. Marry one of us.”

  These men were offering her the kind of life she’d only dreamed about. The kind of life she’d imagined as she’d stitched the tapestry. The tapestry had ultimately led her to them. Who’s to say it didn’t have a magic all its own, even though it wasn’t the tapestry.

  It was time to take another risk. To grab the chance being offered her.

  She was in the center of the Bakra family, surrounded by them all, and they were offering her a place among them. Garrik set her back on her feet, but he didn’t release her, keeping her tucked under his arm. She held her hand out to Jarmon, tugging him closer when he took it. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her decision.

  “Yes.” She stood on her toes and kissed Garrik and then Jarmon lightly on the lips. “Yes, I’ll stay. Yes, I’ll marry one of you.”

  “Don’t decide now.” Garrik’s eyes twinkled. “Not until we have a proper night together. You can choose in the morning.”

  The men laughed and Jane came forward and pulled her away from them. “You poor thing, out tromping around the woods for over a week. You need a hot bath and a good meal if you’re going to deal with those two.” She could hear the affection in Jane’s voice and it warmed Genny. She decided then and there that she liked Jane. The woman had a no-nonsense style, softened by a good heart.

  “I would dearly love a bath if it’s no trouble.” She’d had enough of bathing in rivers and streams to last a lifetime.

  “It’s no trouble at all. We’ll have you settled away in no time. You’ll meet Olena, their mother, soon enough. She’s visiting Christina at Castle Garen at the moment, or she would have been here to greet you. You’ll love her. She’s a wonderful mother-in-law.” Jane kept up a steady chatter as she led her up the wide stone steps.

  Genny realized the other woman was chattering to help her relax. She appreciated her kindness. Now that she wasn’t so distracted, she also noticed the clothing Jane was wearing. Her eyes widened as she realized the woman was wearing pants and a long tunic, rather than a dress. It looked comfortable and was certainly much more versatile. Jane noted her stare and laughed. “I’m starting a new fashion. But really, how can they expect you to work in a cumbersome dress? I’ll make sure you get some pants and a tunic to try. You’ll love them.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Genny caught a last glimpse of Garrik and Jarmon. They were both talking wi
th their older brothers, but their gaze was locked on her. She read the sensual promise in their eyes and a shiver ran down her spine. But she certainly wasn’t cold. Heat suffused her body, making her skin flush.

  “Let me tell you about blue jeans,” Jane was saying as Genny hurried to catch up.

  Chapter Twelve

  Genny watched the door close behind Jane. The hot bath had revived her and now she was clean and smelled of violets, thanks to the soap that Jane had graciously provided. The ankle-length robe she wore was light blue in color and reminded her of Jarmon’s and Garrik’s eyes. Jane had whisked away her dirty clothing, promising her some new ones for her in the morning. She’d also offered a meal of fresh bread, cheese, fruit and a selection of cold meats that Genny had gratefully accepted. It had been delicious.

  Her stomach tightened and butterflies began to dance around inside her. It was ridiculous to feel nervous. She’d been with both of them before, separately and together, but it felt different here. This was their home and she’d made a commitment to them in front of their family. Getting up from the sturdy wooden table that sat in front of the large stone fireplace, she began to pace around the room.

  It was a fair-sized bedroom, dominated by a huge four-poster bed. Long, dark blue bed-curtains had been pulled back to expose the cozy nest of pillows and blankets. Several fur throws were tossed across the bottom. They wouldn’t be necessary this time of year, but when it turned cold outside, their warmth and comfort would be welcome. She’d never seen such luxury up close. It was such a contrast to her own stark room that she’d slept in for years.

  A window allowed light into the room, and from what Genny could tell, the afternoon had waned and evening had arrived. The last dying rays of the sun shone through the stained glass window, spreading its color on the floor. She stepped into the soft light, letting the red, blues and greens of the glass reflect on her bare toes. A bench beneath the window was piled with pillows, inviting one to sit and enjoy the view beyond, or perhaps work on some needlepoint project.