The Quest for Gillian’s Heart

by The Quest for Gillian’s Heart (lit)

  By chance Andor caught Gillian’s eyes upon him. It was her stillness which called his attention to it. Her look was frozen between lust and shyness, and Andor felt his body warming in response. He welcomed her momentary lapse of proprietary that put her on the edge between fear and daring. There was more willingness in those deep blue eyes of hers than her words had ever displayed. If she had not so recently given birth, and had they been afforded more privacy, he would have taken her in his arms that very moment and made her truly his.

  "Andor, ‘tis time we talked." Freyda plopped down before him.

  As if drawn by a single cord, Andor and Gillian pulled their heads her way.

  "Of what?" Andor asked.

  "Of Olaf’s land."

  "Your land now."

  "That is what I wanted to speak of. I have thought much about this. Even though you have opened your home to me, I am a woman alone. We no longer have the people to divide among our three homesteads. I wish to give the land to you to work as your own. I feel it will be better protected in your hands."

  "What of Erik’s rights?"

  "I trust you to be fair when the time comes for him to strike out on his own," she said. "If he is like his father and uncle, that will be many years after he reaches manhood."

  "‘Tis the sensible thing to me," Gillian said. "No one would dare dispute your ownership of the land. As a woman Freyda would not be as fortunate."

  "If that is your wish, I will abide by it," Andor told his sister. "We each marked off our land last year. When we arrive, I will have the rock wall between our properties taken down."

  "What of Leif?" Gillian asked.

  "He has no say in the matter. His land is on the other side of mine. The river is the border."

  "We have water on the land?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

  Andor chuckled. "Aye...from the river, a stream, and the hot springs."

  "Hot springs?"

  "Water warm enough to bathe in...you will see. I have planned us a grand house. Rollo will have his own workshop and a separate sleeping room in the house. Freyda and Erik also, as well as you and I. There will be plenty of room also for visitors. I think you will be pleased."

  Pleased? Already he made it sound like a castle. "I look forward to it."

  He liked the way her face brightened with enthusiasm, and found himself wishing the house was already complete so he could continue to enjoy the sparkle in her eyes. But there were many days of hard work ahead. He laughed to himself at the irony of the situation.

  Freyda had said he should woo Gillian. With a house to build and fields to plow, there would be little time for courtship. The best he could hope for was to be able to hold her close each night as he fell into an exhausted sleep. After his behavior the previous day, he wondered if she would even allow that much contact. It wasn’t something he could ask her outright, but later he might be able to at least test those waters.

  Andor waited until most of the ship had bedded down for the night. When the only sounds left were the wind snapping the sail and the water slapping against the hull, he entered his tent. His gaze fell to Gillian’s outline as she slept, and he eased down beside her, hoping not to be rebuffed. After another slight hesitation, he curled his body around hers.

  Gillian cuddled closer. Andor expelled a long breath - at least it was a start. The wooing would have to come much later.

  Gillian stood at the rail with Freyda and Erik, watching the land before them in awestruck wonder. No descriptions she had heard and nothing in her imagination could have prepared her for this sight. Bare mountains belched smoke into the air. Andor called them volcanoes. Their innards were so hot rock liquefied. As dangerous as it sounded, Gillian longed to look inside one to see if this were so, even though a desert of lava at the base of the nearest one verified his words.

  At their first glimpse of the lava field, Gillian and Freyda exchanged a worried look. Surely this couldn’t be the rich land Andor and Olaf had bragged about. As the ship moved along the coast, their distress was relieved.

  Stands of birch and mountain ash trees dotted the land among verdant fields of tall grass. In hollows untouched by the sun, patches of snow held out against spring. Where there were cliffs, guillemots and puffins made their homes. Already Rollo had said he intended to net a few for food. Beaches invited ships to land, but Andor continued on.

  The mouth of a river twice the length of the ship cut the coastline up ahead. Andor steered toward it.

  "You ladies might want to move away from the rail," Rollo told them. "The water gets a little rough up here."

  Without pause they moved back while the men strained to row against the current. After having been tossed around by a pod of whales, the rocking they now faced was minimal. Once they breached the river’s outlet, the going was smooth.

  Gillian held her breath - it couldn’t be much farther. She fetched Gwynneth from the tent and settled her securely in the sling she tied over her shoulders and around her waist. Then she craned her neck for their landing site. Already she was facing Andor’s land. On the opposite shore was Leif’s. It was unfortunate he would be their neighbor, but at least the river stood between them.

  "There it is! The bridge!" Erik pointed ahead and jumped up and down.

  A wide, wooden bridge connected the river sides. Andor, Leif, and Olaf had built it the year before. Its height prevented ships from sailing beyond. It was their final resting place. Within minutes Andor’s ship was firmly grounded at its new home, and the ramp was set in place.

  "We are home," Andor said. "Unload our goods and set up tents. Stretch out those sea legs."

  Despite the bustle of activity which followed, Andor expected some words from Leif - an acknowledgment of arrival, a wish for future good fortune, a good-bye, a thank you...something. Leif didn’t bother to catch Andor’s gaze, much less try to speak to him.

  Andor put his mind to his work and tried to ignore the slight. But each time one of Leif’s men approached to give his thanks and goods wishes, Andor felt the sting. He could have made an issue of it and won the support of every man, but decided against it. In a land where the dark winters could be killers, good will was always important, and Leif was his neighbor. He gave him every opportunity, but when the last barrel was unloaded, and Leif’s group started across the bridge, Andor knew it was up to him to reach out.

  "I wish you luck, cousin," he called out, "and I thank you for your help on this voyage."

  Leif turned his way. After a pause, he raised his hand in salute. "And luck to you, cousin." Then he continued across the bridge.

  Andor’s gaze followed him. The exchange lacked warmth, yet it gave hope for at least a tolerable relationship. He hoped this new beginning would give Leif the peace of mind he seemed to be lacking. With this thought he looked at Thora, burdened by a load of furs, and knew it would take a great deal of peace to make her life better. Even if Leif never raised a hand to her again, she still had the memories of all the times he had and the pain of seeing him callously dispose of their sons.

  Andor shook his head clear. There was nothing he could do for Thora. He had his own house to care for. Maybe there was even a little time for this wooing business while everyone settled down.

  "Gillian!"

  As she looked his way, a gentle breeze swirled her hair about her face. A smile lit her eyes, and Andor found his lips curving in response.

  "Leave Gwynneth to Freyda’s care. My horse needs exercise. Ride with me and I will show you our land."

  "What of her feeding?" But she was already untying the sling.

  "‘Twill not take long."

  "I will fetch us a jug of that wine your mother made and a round of bread while you ready the horse."

  He did nothing more than toss a blanket over the horse’s back and slip on its bridle. By the time he was done, Gillian was hurrying his way.

  "I have not been atop a horse since I was a wee one," she said with a smile. "I hope I stay put."


  Andor laughed. "I will keep you safe." He spanned her waist with his hands and set her on the animal’s back then swung up behind her. "Lean into me and you will be fine."

  Gillian cradled the wine and bread and scooted her bottom into the cove of his thighs. It was a secure fit for her and an uncomfortable one for Andor. He fought the rise, but each movement of her softly rounded bottom as the horse trotted along only aggravated the situation. Before they left sight of their people, Andor’s distress was fully inflamed.

  Initially his plight embarrassed him, but when Gillian did not try to move away, he took her inaction as a positive sign of desire on her part.

  Gillian inhaled the fresh, cool scent of trees and grass. It was a beautiful country. She could see the potential was there for a successful farm. Yes, it would take a lot of hard work, but she had no problem with that. She and hard work had been friends for a long time. Before it had been a thankless task, and she had been barely able to eke out an existence. Now, all that had changed. Andor would work as hard as she - he’d already shown her that.

  She sighed and pressed closer to his warmth. No matter what circumstances had brought them together, she counted herself fortunate indeed to have found a good husband. Whatever fears she initially had seemed unfounded. He had honored her, sworn to care for her, named her child his, and had asked for nothing in return except that she bear him more children.

  According to Freyda, it was more than that. He wanted her as one lover wanted another. How odd that he should feel this way when Evan did not. Yet, the hard length rubbing against her back was evidence that what Freyda had said was true. She closed her eyes and prayed for the courage to fulfill her obligation to him.

  "What do you think of that?" Andor asked.

  She opened her eyes to a foggy pool of water. He reined the horse to a stop, slid down, then reached for Gillian.

  "Why is there no fog elsewhere? Is it bewitched?" she asked as he set her on her feet.

  "It is not fog." He lay the horse blanket on a patch of grass then placed the bread and wine on top. "‘Tis a hot spring. Come, let me show you." He laced his fingers through hers and led her to the water’s edge.

  Gillian knelt with him and rippled her fingers through the water. "‘Tis as warm as a bath."

  "I thought as much too." He pulled a cake of soap from his kirtle. "Would you like to wash the journey away?"

  She stared at the soap with a mixture of delight and wariness. "Here? Now?"

  "With me."

  "Unclothed?"

  Andor laughed. "‘Twould hardly be a bath if we left our clothes on."

  Gillian flushed and shot a glance to the trees on the other side of the clearing.

  "No one is here but us. Come."

  She stared into the water. "I have never seen a man unclothed."

  By the gods! What kind of man was her husband? "We will undress with our backs to each other, then slip into the water."

  "I...I bleed still from the birth."

  "Then the bath should feel good to you...Come... There is no need to feel uncomfortable. I helped bring Gwynneth into this world. I have seen your breasts while you nurse her. How bad could bathing together be?"

  He was tempting her, there was no way she could deny that, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  "No, I think not."

  A flicker of a smile crossed Andor’s lips. She was fighting against doing what she longed to do. It would take only a little more persuasion and she would cave in.

  "Then I hope you do not mind while I go in. I have wanted this for the last few days. The closer we got, the more impatient I became." He turned her around.

  Gillian chewed her bottom lip while she listened to his clothes slide off. What would it hurt? A bath with unlimited hot water was a luxury. No kettles to boil or tote. No need to hurry before the water turned cold. Why shouldn’t she enjoy it, too? A gentle splash reached her ears, followed by Andor’s contented sigh. It was too much to resist.

  "Turn your back."

  "Are you joining me?"

  His teasing tone grated against her pride, but now that she had made up her mind she refused to back down. "Just turn around and leave me be."

  It was the quickest she had ever undressed. A chill breeze brushed goosebumps across her flesh, making her even more anxious for the water. She spun around and darted for the spring. Immersed to his neck, Andor kept a respectful distance.

  Gillian slipped in feet first. It was hotter than she anticipated. Any more and it would have been uncomfortable.

  "This feel wondrous." With a contented sigh, she let the liquid warmth ooze around her until her shoulders were covered.

  "Might I face you now?"

  There was still that teasing lilt to his voice, but Gillian ceased to care. "You may."

  Andor rolled to his stomach and glided to her.

  "How did you do that?" she asked, surprised but too lethargic now to show it.

  "Do what?"

  "Float over here that way."

  "I swam. I learned when I was a boy. All those in my family swim. My father believed it might help us if we fell overboard."

  "Is it easy to learn?"

  "For some. For others not. I have been told my brother had difficulty."

  "But he learned?"

  "Aye, and went on to teach his wife and sons."

  "Can you teach me?"

  "Rest your hands on my shoulders, relax, and trust me."

  With Gillian floating upon his back, Andor swam the length of the spring and back. Then he let her float while he held her hands and walked before her. She learned quickly, but Andor was slow to praise since further instruction allowed him to touch her. Finally, he had no choice but to let her strike out on her own. She was as if born to the water. Andor was proud of her skill.

  "I like this," she said. "Is there more to learn?"

  "A few things, but we will save them for another time. We have forgotten about bathing. Come rest over here and I will wash your hair."

  Gillian laughed. "I never had a body wash my hair...except my mother when I was wee."

  "Then ‘tis time." It was another excuse to be close to her, and he was pleased when she didn’t resist the idea. He didn’t dare tell her it was the first time he’d done this.

  Gillian settled herself at the water’s edge so she could sit, yet stayed covered in the warmth to keep from being chilled. Andor sat beside her, cradling her across his body. He took his time massaging the lather into her scalp then drawing his fingers through the long strands of coppery hair.

  "You have a nice touch, husband. I feel like falling asleep right here."

  "Lean back on my arm and I will wash the soap away."

  He braced her shoulders and cupped the water in his free hand. As he rinsed, he allowed his gaze to wander as she floated beneath the water’s surface. True, he had seen parts of her before, but the full view took his breath away.

  Her flesh was the color of purest cream. Her brown-tipped breasts offered a sharp contrast in comparison. Even now they peeked above the water, hardening in the air as if by shrinking they could hide from the chill. Lower still, another dark swatch caught his eye. She was tempting, yet he knew he couldn’t have her. That knowledge alone made him want her all the more. He studied her slender waist, her stomach which was quickly regaining its pre-pregnancy flatness, and her legs - those curved lengths he longed to feel wrapped around his own.

  Andor pulled her closer until she was cradled on his lap, then his lips sought hers. Gillian sighed and draped an arm around his neck. Their tongues lapped together in gentle play much as their bodies had when she had learned to swim.

  Andor caressed her waist with his thumb, drawing circles on her skin. Their kiss went on, neither wishing to break contact. He pressed lower, kneading his fingers into her hip.

  Gillian broke away. "Andor, what...."

  Her words faded as he nipped his way across her collarbone then down to the curve of her breast. She arche
d her back, offering herself to him without realizing she had done so. With a shaky breath, Andor lapped at her nipple. Gillian cried out. What she meant to be a protest came out as an encouragement. His lips descended on his goal while his fingers sought what was hidden lower.

  "No!"

  Gillian jerked away and jumped to her feet. Before he could stop her, she was running for her clothes. He had no choice but to follow.

  "What is wrong?"

  She spun around and pointed to the length which jutted from his body. "That!"

  "I cannot help that I want you. What is wrong with that?"

  "I asked you to give me time. I told you it was too soon."

  "It was not my intent to get you with child. I only wished to hold you and love you a bit...like any husband wishes to do with his wife."

  She tossed back her wet hair and snatched up the horse blanket to dry her shivering body. The wine and bread rolled to the dirt. "Well, Evan never wished for such things. And he never tried to steal food from my babe! And he never laid his hands on me in such a way! I see now I was wrong to trust you."

  "Steal from the babe? Never. I was making love to you."

  "‘Twas sinful."

  "Sinful is to not love a woman as she was meant to be loved. Like the sainted Evan did." Andor smirked. "Or shall I say...did not."

  "You will say nothing more and we will not speak of this again." She jerked her shift in place.

  Andor grabbed the blanket from where she had tossed it. "We may not speak of this, but I can tell you, you will think of this moment and the sinful way I touched you. And you will want it again."

  "Never."

  Andor smirked. "That we will see about."

  * * *

  CHAPTER 7

  Gillian scrubbed the clothes with a vengeance she usually reserved for plucking chickens. She devoted special attention to Andor’s things, imagining him still inside them as she wrung them dry then submerged them in the river over and over again. He had not touched her again, but it was the way he didn’t touch her that she found so aggravating.