A Girl of White Winter

by Barb Hendee

  Without warning, his right hand snaked out, and he grabbed my throat with his thumb on my windpipe. Then he began to tighten his fingers, cutting off my air. Clutching his solid wrist, I fought to pull his hand away. Then wildly, I clawed at his hand, trying to make him let go.

  But his face was calm now, as if he felt nothing, as if I were a rabbit he’d caught in his garden, and he needed to wring my neck. The pain of his fingers pressing into my throat grew blinding, and I fought to breathe as terror coursed through me.

  “Logan!” someone shouted.

  Through a haze of pain, I saw Brida pulling on his arm.

  “Let her go!” Brida shouted, hitting him several times and pulling at his arm again. “Logan, let go!”

  Suddenly, I was free and falling to my knees, fighting to take in air.

  “You can’t kill her!” Brida cried. “Whether you accept it or not, she is viewed as Caine’s wife. She is seen as one of us! If you kill her and anyone finds out, you’ll be banished. Is that what you want? You, who should be tórnya, to be banished for murder?”

  My throat was on fire, and almost no air was coming in.

  Brida dropped beside me. “Try to be calm,” she said. “Don’t fight it. Take slow breaths.”

  With effort, I stopped struggling to breathe and tried to take smaller breaths. My throat opened slightly, and in a moment, I was breathing.

  Logan looked down at me, but he appeared shaken now. Perhaps Brida’s image of what could have happened affected him. A few more seconds, and I would have been dead at his hands.

  “Kara, listen,” Brida said. “You cannot tell Tristan or Caine of this. Logan acted without thinking…almost as an accident. As things stand, the love between two brothers has been strained, and you don’t want it broken. You don’t want Logan and Caine to become enemies. Can you imagine life here should one of them become tórnya while the other is an enemy? What harm might that do our people?”

  Through the haze in my mind and the pain in my throat, I understood what she meant. If Caine learned of this, he might not forgive Logan, and the repercussions of that could harm the entire settlement.

  “Logan will never lay hands on you again,” she said. “I swear. Will you be silent on this?”

  “Yes,” I managed to say.

  She rocked back in relief. “Let me help you home.”

  “No.” I drew away and struggled to my feet. “Just tell the women I’m not well, that I won’t be coming today.”

  Turning, I left them and made my way home.

  Upon opening the front door of our house and entering the sitting room, I heard Tristan call from the workroom. “Caine, is that you?”

  “No, it’s me.” But my voice was strained, and he emerged into the kitchen. “Little Bird? Are you not well?”

  “I’m just tired. I think I need to rest. Could we stay in tonight?”

  His brow furrowed. “Yes, of course. But you don’t look well. What’s wrong?”

  “I just need to some rest.”

  He seemed about to press the matter but only said, “Go and lie down. I’ll send to word to Caine to come when he finishes his work.”

  * * * *

  I rested through the afternoon, but felt well enough to help Tristan with dinner. He insisted on making the main dish—scrambled eggs with potatoes—but he let me fry up some corncakes. My throat still hurt, but now it felt sore as opposed to on fire.

  When Caine came home, darkness had fallen. He wanted to know if I was all right. I assured him that I was and had only been a little tired. He accepted this and never minded eating at home. We ate by the light of a candle lantern.

  Afterward, Tristan entertained us by telling stories of his youth, including a time he’d brought a fox cub home and tried to raise it as a pet, and it ended up killing his mother’s chickens.

  When it was time to go to bed, Caine carried a candle lantern to our room.

  Since that night when I’d been so overwrought, he’d not slept in the bed again, and there were times when I wished he would. I had liked waking up with my back pressed into his chest. But of course I could never suggest such a thing.

  Still, something had changed, and neither of us bothered turning around while the other got ready to sleep. I tended to just take off my dress and sleep in my shift. Tonight, as I removed my dress and laid it over a chair, he pulled his shirt over his head.

  But when I started for the bed, he said, “Kara, wait. There’s something all over your neck. Did you splatter something on yourself?”

  Before I could think, he lifted a candle lantern with one hand and reached out toward my neck with the other, as if to wipe something away. Then his eyes narrowed, and he looked closer.

  “What is all this?”

  “I…I…”

  “Are those bruises?” He leaned closer. “These are bad. Your windpipe is bruised and these on the side look like…” He trailed off.

  I knew what they must have looked like: finger imprints. Earlier, in the daylight, no marks had been visible or Tristan would have noticed. The bruises must have begun to appear after sunset.

  “Is this why you came home ill today?” he asked. “Someone grabbed you by the throat?”

  My mind went blank, and I couldn’t think of a plausible lie to explain bruises in the shapes of fingers.

  His voice turned angry. “Was it Logan?”

  “It was an accident!” I blurted out. “He didn’t mean to. He asked me to close down the school, and I wouldn’t agree and when I tried to walk off, he tried to stop me. That’s all that happened.”

  Caine looked down at my throat for a few more seconds. Then he started for the door.

  “Where are you going?” I cried.

  “To leave a few bruises on Logan. I’ll say it was an accident.”

  “No!” I ran to the door, cutting him off. “Please don’t. There’s been enough trouble on my account, and I don’t want you and Logan falling out. Please don’t do anything. I’m asking you.”

  We were speaking loudly enough that Tristan could probably hear us.

  Caine wavered. “I’ll leave it alone on one condition.”

  “What?” I’d have promised him anything.

  “If he comes near you again, you don’t try to hide it. You tell me right away. Do you swear?”

  “Yes, I swear.”

  To my gratitude, he relented and stayed with me in the room.

  * * * *

  The next day, I found a scarf in the same trunk from where Tristan had taken my wool dresses, and I tied it around my neck. For the following few days, I made sure to finish my lessons with the children on time, and I walked with Trace all the way back to the common house.

  A week passed and the bruises faded.

  I continued teaching the children in the mornings and then working with the women in the afternoons, becoming more and more a part of this community. At night, in our room, Caine now watched me undress, and when he thought I wasn’t looking, I saw longing in his eyes. One night, I almost asked him to sleep in the bed with me again, but couldn’t manage to say the words.

  Then one day, before lunch, I arrived at the common house to help with the quilting. The women would stretch the quilts out so that four or five of us could sit around and work on one together.

  Upon slipping inside the front door, I spotted a few of the younger women, including Treena, sitting with Brida. Doris was with them as well.

  “Oh, Kara, come and sit with us,” Treena called. “You have the neatest stitches.”

  Of late, Treena had been friendlier to me. I wasn’t sure why, but somehow I didn’t think this change had anything to do with the school.

  Going over, I sat down and picked up a needle.

  “What were you saying about Aiden?” Doris asked Treena. “Your parents have given their permi
ssion?”

  “Yes.” Treena beamed. “Now that Kara’s finally taken Caine off the market, they’ve stopped pressing me to marry him. Last night, Father agreed to let Aiden and me hand-fast. Mother and I are planning a ceremony for the winter solstice.”

  One of the younger women sighed. “To marry Aiden. You’re so lucky. Have you kissed him yet?”

  Treena laughed. “More than that.”

  “Really? What was it like?”

  “Swoon worthy,” Treena answered.

  The other women, including Brida, all laughed, but I felt myself turning pink. It appeared I’d walked into a rather frank discussion.

  But it got worse.

  “Kara,” Treena asked. “Caine is always so serious. And he never talks of anything besides horses or crops or the roof on the barn. I’ve always wanted to ask you, what’s he like?”

  “What’s he like?” I repeated uncomfortably.

  “What’s he like in bed?”

  Most of the other women burst into laughter again, but as I stuttered to come up with some semblance of an answer, Brida sat at full attention, fixating on my face.

  “What is he like?” she asked, only she wasn’t teasing. “Do you know?”

  “Stop this,” Doris said, still laughing. “Can’t you see you’ve made Kara blush? Perhaps she’d prefer not to share such secrets with the rest of us.”

  The discussion moved back to Aiden and Treena’s hand-fasting ceremony.

  But Brida sat in her chair with her eyes shifting back and forth in thought.

  I focused on my quilting.

  In the early afternoon, some of the men came in to see what might be available for lunch. Sometimes, the men brought food with them when they worked, and sometimes they came in here, seeking cheese, ham, or bread.

  Today, Caine, Logan, Trace, and Aiden all came through the front door discussing the possibility of adding more stalls to the stable. They gathered near the stove to warm their hands. Leaving my small group of quilters, I went to see if I could help slice bread or make tea. Brida followed.

  Going to the stove, I filled the kettle with water.

  Brida picked up a knife and sliced a piece of bread. Handing it to Caine, she asked him, “Have you and Kara consummated your marriage?”

  This caught him so unawares he dropped the bread.

  “What?”

  Trace turned away in embarrassment and pretended to focus on the quilting.

  “It’s a simple question,” Brida said. “Have you?”

  “That is none of your concern,” Caine snapped.

  “It is my concern if you don’t have a true marriage, and I certainly think it would be Tristan’s concern.”

  This was too much for me. First, I’d endured teasing by the women, and now Brida was asking Caine if he’d bedded me—and she was doing this right in front of one of my students.

  Leaving the stove, I walked out the back door of the common house and down the tree line, stepping into the forest and leaving everyone else behind. I burned with shame and had no intention of going back in there until the men were gone.

  “Kara!”

  Caine’s voice sounded behind me. He ran through the trees and caught up to me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what gave her the idea to ask me that. She’s just trying to make it appear that you and I aren’t truly married.”

  “Why would she care?”

  With a sigh, Caine pointed to a clear spot on the ground and drew me down beside him. “Because Grandfather won’t name me tórnya unless I’m married with a family. He wants a family man to lead the settlement…and I understand why.”

  I remembered Doris’s words from the day we met.

  Because Tristan wants a family man to follow him. Everyone knows that.

  I hadn’t thought on this at the time as that was my first day among the women, and I’d had other concerns.

  “If Tristan believes we’re not living as husband and wife,” I asked, “will that affect his decision?”

  When Caine didn’t answer, I thought on what this would mean. Logan would be named as the next leader. I couldn’t imagine what the settlement would be like with Logan in charge. He was not fit to make decisions for other people.

  Caine would make a fine leader. He was strong but could bend in the wind.

  I saw only one way around this.

  Though I didn’t know much about what happened between men and women, I knew it normally started with a kiss. Leaning in, I touched my lips to Caine’s. Startled, he sat back, and ran his eyes over my face. Then he grasped the back of my head and pressed his mouth down on mine.

  The act felt foreign and slightly invasive, and when he opened his mouth, I had to force myself not to resist. I wanted to do this. I wanted to do it for him. His breaths quickened, and he kissed me deeper.

  But then he wrenched himself away.

  “No,” he said raggedly. “Not like this.”

  “Not in the forest? Do you want to go home?”

  “No, I mean not like this. We’re not married. Not really. I called on that old law because I was desperate, but you never consented to marry me. We never hand-fasted.”

  “Then ask me.”

  “Ask you what?”

  “To marry you.”

  He sat up on knees. “Would you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you marry me tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  * * * *

  I spent the rest of the afternoon quilting with the women and once we’d put the quilts away, I helped to start dinner. But when everyone was busy, I slipped out the front door of the common house and went home. Tristan wasn’t there, and I had the place to myself.

  First, I went to my trunk and looked at my own gowns. Neither of the silks seemed right to me. This was not a world for silk. Instead, I drew out the ice blue muslin that I’d not yet worn. After putting it on and lacing it up, I undid my braid, brushed out my hair, and let it fall in waves around my shoulders and down my back.

  I knew that Treena and Aiden wanted a well-planned ceremony, with holly berries for decorations and two days worth of food preparation. I did not need any of that, and neither did Caine. When the time was right, I left the house and walked back to the common house, knowing that by this point it would be crowded, and Tristan and Caine would already be there.

  When I entered, heads began to turn and people began to fall silent. I knew they didn’t find me beautiful when I was dressed like this with my mass of silver-blond hair down. They found me too otherworldly.

  But Caine crossed the room and took my hand. Looking back at Tristan, he said, “Grandfather, will you hand-fast us? We want to have the ceremony.”

  Tristan spoke to me. “You wish for this?”

  “Yes.”

  Logan had been seated, and he jumped to his feet, but he said nothing. I ignored him as several other people in the room flew into action. Doris was at my side, kissing my face, and Charlotte hurried to Tristan, carrying a white ribbon.

  Other people made way for Caine and me as we walked to Tristan.

  With the ribbon, Tristan bound our right hands together. “Do you, Caine, swear to love Kara and to protect her heart and to place her above all others for the rest of your life?”

  “I swear.”

  Tristan turned to me. “Do you, Kara, swear to love Caine and to protect his heart and to place him above all others for the rest of your life?”

  In front of everyone, I said, “I swear.”

  No one could doubt that Caine and I were married.

  * * * *

  Our wedding night was not exactly awful.

  Caine was worried about hurting me, which I appreciated. But the act itself was more physically uncomfortable than I’d expected, and I’m not sure he
received any pleasure.

  The next night, he worried that I still needed to recover from the previous night. I could see that he wanted me, that he’d been waiting for this, but he only kissed me and then wrapped himself around me again, like that first night he’d slept in the bed.

  On the third night, we tried again. The problem was the difference in our sizes. He was so much larger, and he feared putting his weight on me.

  “Kara, move on top of me,” he whispered.

  Although this seemed odd, I did as he asked, and his suggestion became clearer. With me on top, he was able to relax, and I slowly took him inside me, moving my body in rhythm with his.

  This was better.

  It was easier.

  A warm feeling had begun to build in my stomach when his body convulsed, and he made a sound from the back of throat as he held me with both arms. He convulsed several times and whispered in my ear.

  “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as I love you.”

  I respected and admired him. He was kind, and I cared for him. In a marriage, this must be love.

  “I love you,” I told him.

  He held me tighter, pushing his face into the crook of my neck.

  At least we were finding our way here in the bedroom. I wondered if other new couples struggled to find their path down this side of things.

  But I suspected they did.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As late autumn moved toward winter, Brida announced one morning that the supply of flour was running low and we would need to ration. I don’t know why I’d never questioned the source of some of our food supplies here, but the people did not grow wheat.

  “From where does the flour, sugar, and other dry foods come?” I asked Doris.

  “Raven and Jade bring it in the early autumn, and then again in winter. They’ll be home in a few weeks, and they normally buy enough to get us through winter and spring. By late spring, the gardens are bursting, and we have plenty of other food.”

  I’d not realized how dependent we were on Raven’s group of travelers. Asking Doris a few more questions, I also came to learn that Tristan was the only person in the settlement with bags of flour, rice, cornmeal, and lentils at home.