Slatter laughed. “I’m no mystery. Who you see is who I am.”
What Willow saw, though mostly heard, was that his usual lightheartedness was missing from his laughter. It gave her pause to think a moment. Could it be possible? Did Slatter keep a secret? And if so, what was that secret he guarded with laughter so that people would not give thought to it, brush it away, ignore it.
“Then I will have to look closer at you,” Willow teased with a smile that dripped with sweetness.
“I’m right here for you to see, wife, look as closely as you like,” he said and wished he could retrieve his words. Her smile and tone might appear sweet, but there was a determination to them that warned this was no teasing matter. She had set her mind to it, a pragmatic mind at that, and she would now look more closely at him. But she would see only what he let her see. Or would she see what others didn’t?
Silence followed after that, Willow’s thoughts weighing heavily upon her until she found her head bobbing with the weight of them. Having grown accustomed to resting her head on Slatter’s shoulder or chest when she slept, instinct had her lowering her head to his chest.
Slatter adjusted his wife in his arms as her body grew limp with sleep. It was strange how easily he had grown accustomed to sharing a bed with her to the point where he looked forward to it. Of course, sleep wasn’t the only thing on his mind when he’d join her in bed. That he wanted to make love to her had his loins aching more than they ever had. But he could be wise when wisdom was called for, though it was getting more difficult to remain wise when his wife snuggled so close that she roused his manhood throughout the night. And forget the morning when he woke with an aching need for her that had him rushing out of bed to avoid surrendering to it.
She was his wife and he had a right to couple with her, but that would make an already difficult situation worse. As much as he enjoyed her company, sleeping with her, holding her, sneaking a kiss now and then, sharing his life with her was out of the question. He had to return her home to her family.
His chin shot up and his thoughts vanished in an instant upon hearing a sound. He listened again and was relieved to realize it was an animal in the forest. He had learned at a young age to distinguish sounds. Lander had taught him well. He had taught him most everything he knew.
He had always thought of Lander as his father, called him da for as long as he could remember, not that he and his mum ever wed, though they had been like a married couple and more loving than any married couple Lander had known. Lander had been at a loss when Blair, Slatter’s mum, died three years ago and it wasn’t but a year later that he died as well. He had claimed his heart had been too broken to live without her. His mum had told him that she knew when she had first laid eyes on Lander that she loved him and Lander had said the same about Blair. They had been inseparable. Slatter missed them both and he better understood how they felt about each other since meeting Willow.
He couldn’t say he had loved her at first sight, though it might be that he didn’t want to admit it to himself since he had to let her go. She had told him that he couldn’t give her what she wanted most… love.
He couldn’t help think that that might be the easiest thing he could give her.
They stopped to rest and eat a short time after mid-day. The skies were overcast and the air more than chilled. Willow wished she had a hot brew to warm her insides, but was grateful for the food they did have.
“The scratches on your face heal well,” Slatter said, handing Willow another piece of bread.
“As do the others since I’ve been applying what bit of honey I have left.”
“I’m glad they heal well for you, not that even the slightest scar can distract from your beauty.”
She smiled, shaking her head at him. “Compliments roll off your tongue so easily.”
“The truth rolls off my tongue easily,” he said with a smile of his own and a slight tilt of his head.
“I would think lies roll off with greater ease.”
Slatter’s grin grew. “Lies take greater care to tell. They must convince and be kept to memory so that one does not get caught in it at another time. To be a successful liar takes skill that few if any master.”