“We need to go,” he said, releasing her reluctantly. “This snow could worsen.”
She nodded as she pretended to rub the sleep from her eyes so he wouldn’t see the tear that trickled down her cheek, then gathered the blankets as Slatter turned his attention to the fire that had died out hours ago. They were soon on the horse and on their way. The snow remained light, but after traveling about three hours, the snowflakes seemed to consume the sky as they fell rapidly over the land.
After another hour, Slatter stopped and guided the horse beneath a tall tree. He didn’t dismount. He brushed what snow covered Willow off as he said, “It’s about another hour to our destination, though with the snow worsening it will probably take longer.”
“Then we should not waste another minute,” she said, realizing he was letting her know the remainder of their journey would not be easy.
“It is a warm cottage, good food, and a friendly face that will greet us,” he assured her.
She smiled. “Then why do you wait? Let’s be on our way.”
“Keep your cloak up around you and I will keep my cloak over you as well. And keep yourself snug against me for warmth.”
“What of you?” she asked with concern.
He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her lips. “You will keep me warm.”
Willow did just that. She kept herself cuddled tight against him and she periodically rubbed along his arms and back, encouraging warmth to his flesh, as they battled the snowstorm together.
Slatter had been caught in many a snowstorm but never one as enjoyable as this one. His wife was intent on keeping him warm and she did, more ways than she realized. She had a caring touch, but it was her green eyes, bold with concern when she looked upon him as her fingers gently brushed the snow from his face that touched his heart the most.
She truly cared for him and God help her, for in the end he would bring her pain.
Snowfall made travel difficult. Heavy snow could make travel impossible. Visibility was poor, the path disappearing, markers as well. But he had learned how to combat the snow and so he preceded with confidence.
It was almost two hours when he recognized the area and was relieved since they wouldn’t have been able to travel much farther.
“Not long now,” he said, leaning down to let Willow know.
Shortly after, he spotted the small cottage through the falling snow. He directed the horse to the enclosed shelter that once was home to a horse, but no more. Once close, he dismounted and helped his wife off the horse. He led the horse inside the shelter and saw to his care, smiling when his wife arranged one of their blankets over the horse.
When done, he took her hand and led her to the cottage, eager to see the woman inside.
Slatter opened the door, a smile on his face, ready to call out a greeting and stopped.
The fire was nothing but embers and in the front of the hearth lay a woman with gray hair, the strands having fallen loose from her long braid. Slatter rushed to her and when he turned her over gently, it was to see that blood soaked the front of her garment.
Willow approached to see the woman’s eyes flutter open and see the worry on her face as she looked upon Slatter and struggled to speak.
Slatter shook his head at her. “Don’t try and talk. I’m here now. All will be well.”
From the look on the old woman’s face, Willow didn’t think she believed him.
Slatter looked to Willow. “Please help her. She’s my grandmother.”
Chapter 11
“No, don’t move her yet,” Willow said, stopping her husband from lifting his grandmother in his arms as she hurried to his side.
“The earth floor is cold and so is she,” Slatter argued and Willow laid her hand on his arm to prevent him from moving her.
“If she still bleeds, she could lose more blood as you move her, which will not help her. If we stop the flow of blood before we move her it will serve her well. And while I see to that, you can get a fire going and get the room heated which will also benefit her.”
Slatter was about to argue when he nodded. “Whatever you say, wife, you’re the healer.”
“Her name?” Willow asked softly.
“Sara,” Slatter said almost reverently.
Willow gave his arm a gentle push and he moved and let her see to his grandmother as he got a fire going, though he kept a watchful eye on the two women that meant more to him than he would ever admit.
“Sara,” Willow said, running a gentle hand across the older woman’s brow and worried over the slight warmth she felt there. “I’m Willow and I’m going to help you.”