For five days Kevin did his best to help Raina adjust. He went to town for supplies, getting what he could that Tabby had been unable to pack. Ordering extra silk slips for her to wear, an extra skirt, shirt and two simple dresses. He kept their wood supply well stocked. Showed her how to start and keep a fire going.
They went on a tour of the property, taking a narrow footpath to the stables, the small green house, and a storage shed, as well as the way to their private beach. When he cooked, she sat in the kitchen with him. But through it all, she rarely spoke, doing little more than staring off into nothing. Kevin knew if he were to coax her out of her shell, she’d likely indulge him, because he knew the best way was to kiss her. But doing so would mean forcing her to make a choice he knew she wasn’t ready to make yet. Maybe she never would be.
By the fourth day he knew he had a bigger issue than what kind of future his wife wanted. His thigh was on fire, and he was positive he had a fever.
At dinner that night he set fried chicken coated in a spicy drizzle, along with roasted potatoes and jar preserved green beans on the table. Raina took a bite of the chicken and made a moaning noise that left him frozen with a bite halfway to his mouth. Eyes closed, she moaned deeply again and the chicken fell from his fingers back to his plate.
“This is so good. Everything you’ve made so far has been good, but this… this is amazing,” she proclaimed, eyes still closed. “What is it?”
All he could do was stare. Damn if he didn’t want to haul her across the table and taste the seasoning from her mouth, experience it as she had, but so much more. He attempted to speak, but nothing came out. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Fried chicken.”
She held up her fingers, wiggling the ends, showing off the red grease. “And this stuff?”
“Spices mixed in some of the cooking oil and drizzled over the top.”
The tip of her tongue touched to one of her fingers. Kevin blinked and shifted his focus back to his food, trying to ignore the sudden uncomfortable situation he found in his pants. Incredibly thankful a table was between them and she couldn’t see the havoc her physical enjoyment of his meal caused.
“It’s really wonderful. Where’s the recipe from?”
“The Westican south. It’s a cultural food from my understanding.”
She took another savoring bite. “And they taught you?”
Kevin took a deep, centering breath, attention still on his own plate. “I learned, yes. Many cultures are excited to teach cuisine. It allows you to take a piece of them with you to your home. A reminder that a world exists beyond our own shores.”
“I have lived with chef’s my entire life and have never tasted anything with so much flavor.”
Kevin smiled, thankful her more vocal expressions seemed to be over. Food, he could talk about. “You should try some of the foods from Italyssa. They have many fish dishes that they cook with olives, citrus and this unique cheese. Flavor is an understatement.”
“Maybe someday you can take me.”
Something close to hope blossomed in his chest. He met her stare, her light brown eyes soft with a shy smile. “Sure. When this is over, we’ll go.”
“Without telling my father.” She grinned, popping a potato chunk in her mouth.
Kevin chuckled. “Well, how about the day we depart. I can’t just disappear.”
“Deal.”
After dinner she surprised him by helping with the dishes. She didn’t speak much, and he didn’t initiate, his thigh hurting so badly he kept most of his weight on his left leg. Concentrating on the pain allowed him to keep his attention away from her, where it needed to be.
For the first time in their relationship, she knew everything now, who he was, where he came from, what she’d married. Kevin desperately wanted her to accept, but he’d not force the situation by asking. She knew the stakes, and she’d be the one to decide in the end. Four years he’d waited, he could wait longer.
Once they finished, she disappeared into his parents’ old room, her room now, and he let go of the pretense of being okay and limped to the piano. As he did every night since their arrival, he sat before the keys, but never played. Notes floated through his mind, forming a melody his fingers itched to bring to life. But then Raina would hear. Part of him became overly concerned with her opinion of how and what he performed. Another part simply didn’t want to share the only piece of himself he had left that was his alone to own. No one else could dictate or make the calls on how he wrote or played his music. No one else could have an opinion.
Giving up, he went to bed. Sleep never found him, the throbbing in his thigh and fever kept him awake. An hour before dawn, he went outside, allowing the cold air to slip over his heated skin.
He knew he was in trouble. Knew he needed to wake Raina and make a plan on what to do next. But when he went to return to the house, dizziness swept through him. Blackness stole across his vision and he fell to his knees. Slicing pain shot through his thigh. With a grunt he landed face first in the dirt. After several failed attempts to rise, he stopped trying and simply let the darkness overtake him.
Silence blanketed the house, oppressive and alarming. Concerned, Raina eased from her room, checking in Kevin’s before searching the kitchen. She called for him, venturing up the stairs. Usually, she found him in the kitchen in the morning, using their leftovers from the night before to create some delicious morning meal. But, the upstairs proved fruitless as well.
The near week they’d been in the house had come as a shock to her. Aside from helping her learn her way around the house and property, he’d taken every effort to care for her. From showing her how the shower worked in the only bathroom in the house, a little room off the kitchen, to how to make her bed and fold her clothes, he’d helped her adjust.
Yes, she desperately missed hot water, and someone to clean up after her. Remembering to pick up her clothes, and dishes, had taken a few days. However, the horror of her abduction had begun to fade, and Kevin’s nature broke through her fear. The simplicity of their life allowed her to focus on the things her father had waved in front of Kevin’s face, what he’d threatened to take away and leave her stuck with. Leave him feeling guilty over.
None of it was fair, or acceptable.
And that her husband had kept not only a solid arms’ lengths distance between them the entire time, but seemed to have an emotional barrier up as well, had her plotting on how to break through both. Raina was positive they no longer had any secrets between them, everything was fully out in the open for her to see. He no longer had his you don’t know what you’re getting into excuse. A few more days living like normal people might actually convince her she was one, and she’d take the initiative and climb into his bed. The idea had merit and she found herself smiling.
Not finding him anywhere inside, she ventured out. Biting cold greeted her, but she ignored it. Hopefully she wouldn’t be out long. Hands on her hips, she surveyed the trails and outbuildings.
“If I were Kevin, where would I wander off to?” Her words left her mouth in icy puffs, twirling and disappearing in the frigid morning air.
More wood? Check on Eadric? He let the horse meander around the grassy areas in the late morning, maybe he’d decided to let the stallion have his freedom a little earlier today. She rounded a corner and immediately spotted Kevin, face down on the trail. Her breath stuck in her throat and she screamed his name.
No response.
Faster than she thought herself capable, she sprinted to him, terrible scenarios racing through her mind.
He’d fallen and hit his head.
They’d been found and he’d been shot.
But when she reached him, there wasn’t a bump on his head, nor was there any blood from a gunshot wound. Pressing her hand to his cheek she hissed at the heat radiating from his skin. Fever. She shook his shoulder and said his name again. He murmured something unintelligible, but made no effort to move.
Little flakes of snow drifted on the constant breeze. By late afternoon the temperature would reach into the mid-forties, high enough to turn the falling wisps of ice into misty drops. But now, the air hovered in the high twenties. She shivered and knew if she didn’t get Kevin back inside, a fever would be the least of her concerns.
Wrapping her elbows under his arms, she hefted him upward with a groan of protest at his bulk. He didn’t make a sound or movement. His head flopped forward, his chin nearly touching his chest. Damp hair ruffled in the breeze and pressed into her stomach when she heaved him forward, her feet digging into the loose dirt path. On a grunt, with her thighs burning in exertion, her stomach muscles tight and arms trembling, she managed to move him three whole feet. Weighing at least twice as much as she did, Raina had no idea how she’d manage to get him all the way to house, let alone inside, but she had to. There was no one else.
“Must you be all muscle, warrior of mine?” she breathed out, taking a few seconds to shake her aching arms loose and catch her breath. “Have to be all hard man and heavy. Have to be able to take out all those stupid bad guys.”
Bracing her hands on her trembling knees, she tried to slow her breathing. Mucus coated her otherwise dry throat, and she coughed when cold air aggravated her already objecting lungs. “Had to have something wrong with you. Couldn’t tell your wife you were sick because oh no, that’d make you some weak warrior.” She heaved him up again on a groan. “Can’t have that, just wouldn’t do, would it?”
Somehow, she managed to get him to the front door. Dripping with sweat she collapsed on the wall beside the door. “How’s that plan working out for you, keeping to yourself? I bet you’d trust your team if they were here. You and me,” she said on a rough breath, motioning at the empty space between them. “We’re going to have to talk about this complex you have trusting me.”
Gathering strength from a reserve she didn’t even know she had, Raina shoved open the door and steeled herself for another hard-fought battle. The distance from the door to the nearest bed, his, seemed somehow further than the path she’d dragged him up. She had nothing left. Every muscle in her body trembled, ached and protested even her straightening from the wall.
The flakes drifting along the ocean breeze had finally given way to mist, cooling her heated skin. But Kevin, despite his fever, had developed a definite gray to his complexion. Steeling herself against the difficulty ahead, she hefted him up once more and dragged him over the threshold. She slipped on the dusty wood floor and he landed on top of her, hard, his head bouncing in the hollow of her shoulder, his hips settling along her upper thighs.
Raina closed her eyes. Her tired arms wrapped around his wide shoulders. She shifted her fingers into the damp, short locks of his hair, her other hand splayed across his solid back. The labored, shallow rise and fall of his chest moved beneath her hand and pressed into her. Tears burned behind her eyes. For a precious moment she allowed herself the luxury of simply holding her husband, catching her breath even though his weight made it difficult to pull in much more than a gasp.
She needed to get up and move him. She needed to find yet another burst of strength. She needed to get him into the bed, out of the cold. She had to do all this because she needed him. The rest she’d worry about later. One obstacle at a time.
After easing out from under him, she sat. His feet were still out the open door. A cold draft billowed into the house, sending dust rolling along the floor. Papers fluttered on the piano. Raina waited until her heart didn’t pound so hard it hurt before forcing herself to rise and attempt the impossible yet again.
Going up and down stairs throughout her day and maybe partaking in a dance or two on social evenings was the extent of her physical activity. Hauling her six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-something-pound husband was well beyond her capabilities. When this was over, she’d make Kevin teach her a thing or two about how he kept so in shape, that way if he needed saving again, it wouldn’t kill her.
Twenty minutes and what she knew were several strained muscles later, she managed to pull Kevin onto his bed. She didn’t care about the dirt covering every inch of him. Didn’t care how sweaty she was, or how much grime she dragged onto his bed. He was in. End of concern. Gasping for air, she stumbled into her room, yanked off the comforter, and dragged it back into his room. The effort of covering him was too much, and all she managed was to toss it over his legs before she collapsed onto the floor beside the bed.
Then, with his hand flopped over the edge, and one foot dangling an inch from the floor, she rested her head back and allow the tremors to consume her. She covered her face and gave into her inner princess and sobbed.
What was she supposed to do now?