He didn’t respond immediately and she feared he did not understand her. But then she watched as that murderous look rose in his eyes and turned her cold once again.
“Are you telling me that if we do not couple that Colum will give you to Goddard?”
Her shoulders slumped with relief that he understood and she nodded.
“How would he know if —”
His sudden silence frightened her all the more.
“He wants my scent upon you.”
It sounded to Dawn as if he growled beneath his breath like an angry beast.
“The bastard will pay for treating me like a dog and for using you without care or thought.”
It dawned on her then that Cree had no intentions of dying that somehow he would escape and make Colum pay. What then would happen to her village? Would he and his warriors pillage it and the people? This was news she could take to Colum, but with no proof, what good would it do?
What made her anxious was that he turned completely silent. He finished eating and then quickly retired to the corner of the hut where the shadows devoured him. Dawn didn’t know what to do. So she cleared away the food and sat on the edge of the blanket, found a stick, and began to draw.
She loved to draw and had since she was little. Her drawings said what she couldn’t and they spoke of beauty and joy. She wished she had had a permanent way of recording her drawing, but paper was costly as was paints and materials. So she made do and would draw in the sand only to brush her creations away or have the wind take them.
She drew a familiar scene, a place she often went to when she had a rare moment to herself. It was a glen not far from the village. She, Lila, and Paul shared grand adventures there when they were children. It was a safe place to her. A stream ran through the glen, hills rose on either side and trees dotted the landscape. She loved the soothing sound of the trickling stream. The water was in no hurry, making its way slowly along its path. She would sit for hours there if she could, but her work in the kitchen gave her little time to spare. Drawing the familiar scene at least let her visit it.
Two candles flickered out and when she looked up to see that the candles had burned completely down, she realized that she had spent several hours drawing in the dirt. She had a couple of more candles in the basket, though she didn’t want to waste their precious light on her drawings. Reluctantly, she swept her hand across her creations and they were gone.
The hut’s door swung open causing her to jump and for Cree to quickly emerge from the shadows and stand protectively in front of her.
“She’s to come fetch supper,” John said standing outside the door, dare not letting his foot pass over the threshold.
“I have other plans for her,” Cree said never taking his eyes off the guard. “Have someone else fetch it.”
John couldn’t seem to find the right words. He fumbled around, his tongue unable to work properly until he finally gave up and shut the door.
Dawn slumped with relief. When the door had opened she feared she would be forced to leave and forced to endure Goddard. She gladly remained behind with Cree and was more than happy that he refused to allow her to leave. It bought her time. How much she didn’t know but for now she was pleased with having this short reprieve.
Cree turned as soon as the door closed. “Take your garments off.”
Chapter Ten
Dawn stood frozen to the spot, her eyes resting on him as he slipped out of his leather leggings and removed his boots. In a matter of seconds he stood before her naked and her breath caught. He was more than a fine specimen of a man; he was magnificent.
Toned and hard, not a thickening spot on him and devoid of scars, a rarity for a warrior or perhaps a badge of honor. She was eager to see all of him and so her eyes roamed. He was solid, large and hard all over. His precise lines and angles had her hand aching not to touch him but to draw him. He would make a beautiful subject to draw.
He stretched his arms out to his sides. “Do I please you?”
She dropped down to the ground without thinking and grabbed the stick she had been drawing with and her hand began moving, her eyes darting back and forth between him and the ground.
Cree shook his head. The woman confused him. He had expected her to tremble in fear at his command, perhaps hesitate to obey then eventually acquiesce. But what does she do? She drops to the ground and starts drawing.