He shook the disturbing thoughts away and shrugged out of his fur-lined cloak, tossing it over the only chair in the cottage. He was about to fill his tankard with ale from the pitcher on the table when raised voices outside his door caught his attention. His hand went to his sword that he had placed against the chair just as the door flew open.
Cree stared for a moment at the figure in the open doorway. He was large, his hooded cloak covered with snow as was the bundle he cradled in his arm. He shook his head free of his hood and Cree was surprised and a bit annoyed to see Torr McClusky, Dawn’s half-brother. He had told the warrior that he hadn’t required his help and still the man had followed him.
Sloan suddenly hurried in behind Torr. “What are you waiting for? We need to get her warm.”
Cree felt his stomach clench, and he shoved the table out of his way to get to Torr and take the bundle from him, realizing it was Dawn.
“Good God, she’s ice cold,” Cree said, taking Dawn from Torr and with two, long strides was in front of the fireplace. He sat on the chair Sloan had hurriedly placed there and pushed the plaid away from her face that had at least sheltered her from the snow, though not the bone-chilling cold.
Torr appeared beside him, holding his hands out to the flames, the snow on his cloak rapidly melting and puddling at his feet.
“Where? How?” Cree asked, placing his warm hand against her pale cheek, her lips slight blue and her eyes closed as if in… He shook his head. She was not dead. He would not let her die.
“Thanks to my mare who had insisted on prodding the lump in the road that I had thought to avoid, I found her. She must have followed you.”
“Two of the lads had mentioned that another lad had gone missing,” Sloan said. “I foolishly paid it no heed, since the count of the men was accurate.”
Cree thought of the lump of snow that had caught his attention on the road, and he had ignored. It had been Dawn. She had laid there helpless, a few feet from him, and he hadn’t gone to see what it was. If he would have found her, she would be safe now. He silently cursed himself for not investigating it.
“Has she woken at all?” Cree asked.
Torr shook his head. “She stirred some when I lifted her, but she hasn’t opened her eyes.
“I have to get her warm,” Cree said more to himself than the other two men, realizing that while the wool plaid had offered some shelter from the snow, it had also aided in chilling her. The snow had soaked through the wool, wetting her garments.
Torr reached out to help as Cree lifted Dawn, gently slipping the plaid off her.
Sloan helped, unwinding the fur wrappings at her legs and shaking his head. “It’s a deep chill she has caught.”
“You need to warm her,” Torr said his worry evident in his clipped tone.
Cree grew more annoyed, though contained it. The man did, after all, save Dawn, but he didn’t need to be told what he already knew and feared. He had lost men to deep cold before. They would simply drift off and never wake again, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen to Dawn. He wanted her fully awake when he punished her for being so foolish. But first he would hug and kiss her and be grateful that she was alive, then he would punish her.
“Leave, I will see to her,” Cree ordered.
The two men nodded, knowing the best way to get her warm quickly.
“Torr,” Cree called out before the man reached the door. “You will tell me why you followed us when I had made it quite clear that I didn’t require your help.”
“You were clear enough,” Torr snapped. “And so is the missive that arrived from the King shortly after you left. I knew you would want to see it right away, so I brought it to you. And good thing I did or my sister would be dead.”
Cree cursed beneath his breath, annoyed at the man for being right and grateful to him for following, though he wasn’t sure how happy he would be with the message from the King. But that had to wait. Dawn came first. He would not lose her or their child. He planned on having many more children with Dawn. And he didn’t care if one or all of them lacked a voice, he would love them regardless just as he did their mother.
He got busy right away, stripping Dawn of her wet garments and rubbing her cold flesh as he went. He had thought that his worry over her would prevent him from growing hard and doing what needed to be done to warm her. But he need not have, for as soon as he touched her, he began to grow hard.