He knew there would be hurdles when he returned her home, but they would overcome them. He would see that they did. What concerned him the most was Owen. He knew well of the man and he was a devious one, not to be believed or trusted. He did not do anything out of the goodness of his heart. He did things to fatten his own coffers, and he did not care who he hurt along the way.
Wintra moaned and turned around in Torr’s arms to settle snug against him once again and rub her face against his chest, sighing contentedly and resting her head there.
Torr wrapped his arms around her, yawned, and placed his cheek on the top of her head. He had been happy to learn that Wintra did not think she could sleep without him by her side, for he knew for sure that he wanted her in his arms, in his bed, every night.
Chapter Twelve
Wintra could not remember how many days they had been traveling. She thought it had been five, though it could be six. And how Torr knew where he was going she would never know. The snow made everything look the same to her. Thank heaven it hadn’t snowed anymore, a few flurries, but nothing more. Her legs ached beyond belief from the constant trudging in the snow. Some areas were not bad while others Torr had to make a path using the strength of his legs so that she could get through to follow him.
Food had been anything but plentiful and it had not been for lack of trying. Last night, or was it the night before—she could not remember—she had fallen asleep before the small fish Torr had managed to catch had finished cooking. He had woken her and made her eat. Not that he had to force her, she had been starving. And she was cold, so very cold that she did not think that she would ever get warm again.
She had not, however, complained about anything to Torr. She had been the one who had wanted to go home, and he had obliged her.
She had been so busy in her thoughts that she did not notice that he had stopped and walked right into his back. He turned, his hand taking hold of her arm and his finger tapping at his mouth, cautioning silence.
She froze, an easy task since she was so cold, and stared at him.
His eyes darted about, and then his hand went to the hilt of his dagger at his waist.
Her heart began to beat rapidly. Had he heard something that had alarmed him? She got her answer when he shoved her behind him.
Could Owen have found them? If not, who approached? Robbers or thugs who would attack innocent travelers? Many such victims had been forced to stop at the abbey for help, some having suffered serious wounds. Her mind went wild with possibilities of what they were about to face one way or another.
She wished the ground was not covered with snow. She could have found a rock or stick, anything that would serve as a weapon. Cree had taught her to use anything she could as a weapon to defend herself. Another reason why she wished she could have remained with him, he would have taught her how to use various weapons to protect herself. She did not like feeling vulnerable, and she intended to do something about it once she was home—if she made it home.
A single rider finally came into view, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Torr could easily handle one man. Then all of a sudden men on horses and some on foot poured out of the woods, and her heart sank.
“It is about time you found us,” Torr said.
Wintra almost collapsed with relief.
“You hid your trail well.”
Wintra stepped around Torr, and took his hand as she stared at Sloan.
“You are well, Wintra?” Sloan asked.
She did not know Sloan well. He had come to the abbey with Cree on only two occasions and they had barely exchanged a few words. “I am well,” she confirmed with a nod, “though hungry and cold.”
“We are setting up camp not far from here. Come and I will see that you get warm and have food.” He went to dismount, but Torr’s sharp words stopped him.
“I will see to her care.”
Sloan looked from one to the other, nodded, and then signaled to one of the warriors who after being gone for only a few moments returned with Torr’s horse.
Torr took the reins, rubbed the mare’s face, pressed his face to hers, and then whispered something to her.
Wintra watched how his hands moved over the mare, as if reassuring her and welcoming her back and all she could think was that she missed that touch of his. As shocking as it had been when he had touched her to get her warm, it had also felt incredibly wonderful.