Defying Destiny (16 page)

brightening. “I like eggs,” he said.

“Freshly laid robin’s eggs straight out of

the shell.”

Maralee grimaced.

“We have to wait until spring, though,”

he added.

“These are chicken eggs,” Maralee

said. “And they have been cooked.”

“I have noticed you cook everything,”

Nash commented, managing to scoop some

eggs into his mouth awkwardly with his

fork. He smiled. “Not bad.”

Carsha was trying her eggs now. She

beamed. “Yummy!”

The innkeeper’s wife returned with

fresh glasses of milk. “I see you like the

eggs,” she commented as she watched

Carsha stuff them into her mouth happily.

Carsha nodded, her mouth too full to

speak.

“Everything is delicious,” Maralee

complimented the chef.

“Thank you, miss,” she said, turning

towards the kitchen. “I’ve got cookies for

the pixie princess in the oven.”

Carsha swallowed, and then giggled.

Maralee and Nash grinned.

“Her magic is still working,” the

woman declared and pushed through the

swinging door.

“She’s silly,” Carsha said.

Maralee wished she knew how to

bring a smile to the face of a child so

easily. She thought about the dragonfly

barrettes in her money pouch, but decided

to give them to the girl later. Maybe

Carsha would let her brush her pretty,

dark gray hair. It always looked untidy,

but Maralee imagined it would be very

beautiful if brushed and held back from

her sweet face with barrettes. Carsha

scowled at her and Maralee realized she

was staring. She turned her attention back

to her breakfast.

“What are these box-shaped things?”

Nash asked, having discovered more

variety on his plate.

Maralee glanced at his plate. “Those

are potatoes.”

“These are potatoes? The ones at the

mercantile

were

much

larger,”

he

murmured and tried one. Maralee watched

him for his reaction. “Strange texture,” he

assessed, chewing carefully, “a little

sweet.” He returned to his eggs.

Maralee smiled. It just occurred to her

how nice it was to share a meal with

someone. Nash seemed to be enjoying

himself, too. At least he had dropped the

guarded look he had been sporting since

they’d entered the village.

“Lark and Lord will be
so
jealous,”

Carsha declared. “I’ll tell them all about

this yummy food, and the store with all of

those amazing things, and the buildings

with two levels.”

“They’ll probably want to tag along

next time,” Nash said, smiling to himself.

“That will be nice,” Maralee said. “I

haven’t met them, have I?”

“They didn’t want to come and play

with us yesterday,” Carsha said. “They

said I was a traitor for even talking to

you.”

“They’re at that age,” Nash said,

eyeing Maralee uneasily.

“That’s okay. I’ll work hard to win

them over.”

The innkeeper’s wife appeared once

more, this time carrying a bright red

handkerchief bundled around something.

“Cookies for the pixie princess. You take

these home with you,” she told the child,

handing her the bundle.

“Oh,

it’s

red.

Pretty!”

Carsha

exclaimed.

The woman chuckled. “You can keep

that old handkerchief,” she said.

“Thank you!” Carsha said, jumping

from her chair and hugging the woman

around the middle.

Phyllis patted the girl’s head. “I do

miss my wee daughters,” she said,

touching the corner of her apron to each

teary eye. “I only see the grandchildren for

a few days each summer. You’ll come see

me again, won’t you, pixie princess?”

Carsha craned her neck to look up at

the woman who had so quickly wormed

her way into the child’s heart. “Oh yes.

And I’ll bring my brothers, too. Okay?”

“Pixie princes, too? What a joy!”

“I wouldn’t call them that to their

faces,” Carsha warned seriously. “They

wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh, they would be young men then,”

the woman said, taking her advice to

heart.

“I don’t mind though,” Carsha quickly

amended.

“Don’t forget your magic,” the woman

told her, and Carsha giggled. The girl

glanced at Maralee and Nash to make sure

they were smiling. The effects of her

magic did not disappoint.

“I need to go upstairs and collect my

things,” Maralee said, rising from the

table.

“Can I come, too?” Carsha asked.

“Sure,” Maralee agreed, hoping this

meant the girl no longer hated her.

“I’ll head to the mercantile to pick up

our supplies,” Nash said, also rising to his

feet. “I’ll meet you two outside.”

Maralee worked her way out of the

tiny dining room and was surprised when

Carsha thrust her hand into hers. Maralee

smiled down at her and led her to the

stairs. The little girl seemed nervous as

they ascended to the second floor.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never been up this high,” she

claimed, glancing back down the steep

and narrow stairs.

“You don’t climb trees?”

Carsha shook her head.

“Probably a good idea. I fell out of a

tree once. Broke my arm.”

Carsha’s golden eyes were wide as

she looked up at her. “Did it hurt?”

“You bet it did, but I won’t let you fall

down the stairs. Okay?”

Carsha nodded and continued to climb

beside her. They reached the room and

Maralee began to empty the dresser

drawers and pack her belongings in her

knapsack. Carsha was intrigued by the

bed, which she pressed down on with both

hands.

“Is this where you sleep?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Carsha glanced around the room and

found an oval mirror above the dresser.

She stood on tiptoe to peer at herself.

“What’s this? It’s shiny like water, but it’s

standing up.” She touched it with curious

fingers. “It’s hard.”

Maralee smiled. “That’s a mirror. You

look at yourself in it.”

“Why would you want to do that?” she

asked, turning to glance at Maralee.

Maralee chuckled. “I have no idea.”

Carsha turned her attention back to the

mirror. She instantly changed her mind

about how interesting it was to look at

one’s self. She made a face and giggled,

before making another face. Maralee

smiled and glanced up from her packing.

For a fraction of a second, she saw the

image of a small gray wolf in the mirror,

but just as quickly Carsha’s wide-eyed

gaze met hers. Maralee closed her eyes

and shook her head to clear it. Wolves

everywhere lately. In the forest, in her

dreams, in her bed, and now she imagined

seeing them in the mirror.

“I think I need a holiday,” she

murmured to herself and continued with

her packing.

“What

is
that
?”

Carsha

asked

excitedly, pointing out the window now.

Maralee crossed the room and peered

out the window at the horse-drawn sleigh

making its way down the road. The sound

of sleigh bells was faint through the panes

of glass.

“It’s a sleigh.”

“It looks delicious.”

Maralee glanced at the child, shocked.

“You don’t mean the horse?”

Carsha seemed to realize she had said

something wrong. “I’m sorry.”

Maralee smiled in understanding. “It’s

all right. We don’t eat horses. They are

our friends.”

Carsha gave her an odd look. “If you

say so.”

Maralee chuckled uneasily. “I’m ready

to go. Are you done looking around?”

Carsha nodded. Maralee slipped her

knapsack over both shoulders and took the

girl’s small hand again. They took the

stairs down to the tiny lobby, which was

no more than a counter in a narrow

hallway. Carsha watched with interest as

Maralee paid for her room and their

breakfast, and then followed her silently

out into the street.

Nash was already waiting for them,

overburdened with wares.

“I don’t know how we’re going to get

home carrying all of this stuff,” he

grumbled.

Maralee removed her knapsack. “Put

some in here,” she said. “There’s room.”

He didn’t protest when she began to

cram things into her knapsack. He did

when she tried to carry it.

“That’s too heavy for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Do I

look like a delicate flower?”

“Yes.”

His response surprised her. She

recovered quickly. “Well, I’m as sturdy as

a pack mule,” she informed him, returning

her knapsack to her back. It was far

heavier than she had anticipated, but she

would never let him know she was

struggling to retain an upright position.

“Here, Carsha,” he said. “You carry

these.”

He put something in Carsha’s hand and

she gazed down at a pair of barrettes.

They were in the shape of a row of small

daisies.

“Oh,” she said, looking up at her uncle

with typical adulation.

“Someone already bought the ones you

wanted,” he said.

“I like these better,” Carsha said.

Maralee smiled. What a thoughtful

man. She would hold on to the dragonfly

barrettes for a while longer. She didn’t

want to make Nash’s gift seem less

enchanting to the pixie princess.

“I want to wear them,” Carsha said,

holding them up to Nash. “Now, please.”

Nash glanced at Maralee, pleading for

assistance with his eyes.

“When we get home I’ll brush your

hair for you and fix it with your new

barrettes,” Maralee promised. “My brush

is all the way at the bottom of my bag.”

This seemed to appease the child. She

tucked her present into her pocket and

shifted her bundle of rabbit furs and the

handkerchief full of cookies into a more

secure position in both arms.

“Stay right with us,” Nash said to his

niece as he lifted several large and

cumbersome packages.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big

girl,” she informed him. She stayed with

them however, the entire long and

strenuous walk home.

The moment they entered Nash’s

cabin, Carsha began to insist Maralee fix

her hair.

“We have to put all of these things

away first,” Maralee said.

Carsha’s pout was most unbecoming.

“Stop

pestering

Maralee,”

Nash

demanded, more than a little tired and

grumpy from carrying pounds upon pounds

of Maralee’s strange foodstuffs through

the forest.

“In a minute,” Maralee promised.

The girl sighed, resigned to her fate,

and sat on the living room floor to inspect

her bundle of cookies. Maralee and Nash

headed for the kitchen to put away their

heavy load. The process of finding

locations for things he did not recognize

overwhelmed him. Eventually, he merely

watched Maralee organize his kitchen.

She seemed to fit there, and he found

himself imagining what it would be like to

always have her with him. When she

noticed his staring, she watched him over

her shoulder, her silver gray eyes wide

with question.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Only one thing.” His pulse throbbed,

as it did whenever he was alone with her.

She

glanced

at

her

handiwork

nervously. “I could rearrange these

things,” she said, and looked at him again.

He took a step closer and she turned to

face him. A delightful blush crept up her

neck and face. She was beautiful. He

especially liked the way she looked when

he unsettled her. She had that beguiling,

bewildered look on her face at that very

moment.

“That isn’t what’s wrong,” he said,

voice taking on a husky quality as he

closed the gap between them.

“Then what?” Her voice was so quiet

as she stared up at him he wouldn’t have