Defying Destiny (26 page)

“Oh.”

“Here’s the inn.” They drew to a halt

in front of the building.

She pulled her hand out of his grasp,

climbed the four shallow steps of the

stoop and reached for the door handle.

“Miss Decatur?” he asked, gazing up

at her from the lane.

“Yes?” She turned to look at him.

“Would it be acceptable for me to call

you Maralee?”

She chuckled. “Well, I suppose. It is

my name after all.”

He smiled and nodded with his eyes

closed. “Right.”

She opened the door and entered the

building. Jared followed, removing his

glasses and wiping them on his shirt as

they steamed up in the moist warmth of the

inn.

“Miss Decatur,” the innkeeper said.

“We heard you’d been taken to the clinic.

How are you feeling?”

“A bit better,” she said. “Did Phyllis

cook breakfast this morning?”

“You bet.” He took her cloak and

Jared’s long, wool coat. “Is it snowing?”

Maralee nodded. “Just started.”

“I am looking forward to spring,”

Gordon said. “Snow is bad for business.

Now, off to the dining room with you. I’ll

tell Phyllis to bring your breakfast.”

“Thank you,” said Jared.

“It’s good to see you again, Doctor. I

wanted to ask you about this pain I’ve

been having in my shin at night.”

“A pain in your shin? It could be any

number of things. Make an appointment

and I’ll see what I can do.” Jared

followed Maralee into the cozy dining

room, escaping the innkeeper’s attempt at

a free consultation.

“I’ll do that,” Gordon called after him.

Jared seated Maralee, pushing in her

chair for her, before taking the chair

across from hers. She avoided looking at

him, tracing an indiscriminate pattern on

the table with her finger. She wasn’t really

in the mood for company. She was grateful

when Phyllis burst into the room with two

large plates of food. If Maralee had food

in her mouth, it would be rude to talk.

Phyllis set a plate in front of each of

them and smiled sweetly at the doctor. “I

must say that Miss Decatur has fine taste

in men,” Phyllis said, “though I must put in

my vote for the gentle doctor over the dark

and dangerous sort she usually keeps

company with.”

Jared gave Phyllis a questioning look

and then turned his attention to Maralee

who suddenly felt lightheaded again.

“Are you feeling all right, Maralee?”

Jared reached for her trembling hand

across the table.

She withdrew her hand and hid it

under the table before he could touch her.

“I’m fine,” she lied. A particular dark and

dangerous sort had invaded her thoughts

once again—not that he ever left them.

“You’d better eat or I’ll be dragging

you back to the clinic,” he warned.

“Gentle, yet firm,” Phyllis said. “Yes,

he definitely gets my vote.”

Maralee was glad when Phyllis went

back into the kitchen. She reached for her

fork, her hand still trembling. “Jared, after

we eat, do you think you could give me

that sleeping concoction?”

“If you’d like.” He smeared butter

over his griddlecakes, and drenched them

in syrup without having to look to Maralee

for guidance. He used his fork to take a

bite, and failed to drain his glass of milk

to flush the sweetness from his mouth. He

didn’t claim he would stick to sausage

because he could stomach it despite its

spiciness.

“Yes,” she said, shaking her head to

clear her thoughts. “I’d like a few hours of

peace.”

He glanced up at her. “You’re not

eating.”

She nibbled on a piece of toast. Jared

seemed satisfied with this. He had no way

of knowing she was not a delicate eater.

Jared chatted lightly about his experiences

in medical school. Maralee responded in

the appropriate places, but she couldn’t

have told him what he was talking about if

he’d asked. She was thinking about a

particular pixie princess who brought

smiles to faces with her magical giggles.

“Try some eggs,” Jared was saying.

“You need protein.”

Fresh robin eggs right out of the

shell. I notice you cook everything.

Maralee shook her head. “I don’t

really like eggs,” she lied.

“Sausage then, or at least drink your

milk.”

Maralee took an obedient sip of her

milk. Why did everything, absolutely

everything
, remind her of Nash?

Phyllis came to claim Jared’s empty

plate. Maralee’s plate showed signs of

food being moved around, but it was

mostly still intact.

“Would you like me to make you

something else?” Phyllis asked her.

“Some

porridge perhaps, or some

oatmeal.”

“No, thank you, Phyllis. I just don’t

have much of an appetite these days.”

Phyllis clicked her tongue with

disapproval. “I will start a pot of chicken

soup immediately,” she said, “and I won’t

leave you alone until you’ve eaten an

entire bowl.”

“She’s going to get some much needed

sleep first,” Jared said, and climbed to his

feet. “You go directly upstairs and get

ready for bed. I have to return to the clinic

for your medicine. I’ll be back directly.”

He stepped out of the dining room,

retrieved his coat and was out in the snow

before Maralee had even found the

strength to rise from her chair.

“I’d say the doctor himself is your best

medicine, girly,” Phyllis said. “Nothing

better for a broken heart than a kind and

understanding, young man.”

Maralee pushed past her. “I hope

you’re not insinuating I should get

involved with my doctor.”

“That’s exactly what I’m sinulating.”

Phyllis stopped her from leaving the

dining room by placing a hand on her arm.

“I know this ain’t none of my business, but

those dark dangerous types are exciting

and they make the heart pound and the

knees weak, but it never lasts, miss. You

find yourself a nice, steady young man,

like Dr. Sabin, and settle down. That’s the

smart thing to do.”

“The smart thing to do is to stay away

from men entirely,” Maralee said.

“Excuse me.”

As Maralee climbed the stairs,

Phyllis’s look of concern seemed to bore

into her back. Maralee wasn’t used to

having people fuss over her. She felt

greatly relieved when she entered her

room and closed the door behind her. She

gathered her things and went to the

bathroom at the end of the hall. There, she

washed up, braided her hair and put on

her long flannel nightgown—an article of

clothing that hadn’t been used once, when

she’d stayed with Nash. When she

returned to her room, Jared was already

waiting for her. He was running a finger

along the length of the sword sheath on her

dresser.

“That was fast,” she said.

He jumped and hid his hand behind his

back.

“I’ll save you the trouble of

wondering,” she said. “That’s the sword I

use to slay Wolves.”

“I didn’t mean to pry,” he said. “It’s a

very beautiful sword. It seems you take

very good care of it. It’s shiny.”

So, he’d gone so far as to remove it

from its sheath.

“I have to keep it polished or it

tarnishes,” she explained. She could tell

he didn’t know anything about swords

when he didn’t question her about her

sword tarnishing. It didn’t matter. It would

not occur to many people that silver was

an unusual metal from which to forge a

sword.

“Are you ready for your long nap?” he

asked, opening his medical bag to retrieve

her sleep aid.

Maralee nodded. She climbed into bed

and arranged her pillows and blankets. He

handed her a small cup of thick liquid.

“Drink it all, Maralee,” he said. “It

tastes pretty bad.”

She hesitated and then downed the

medicine. He hadn’t been lying about the

taste. She winced, forcing the bitter

medicine down her throat. He took the

little cup from her and handed her a glass

of water to wash the medicine down. He

took the empty water glass, as well, and

surprised her by sitting next to her on the

edge of her bed.

“I’ll observe you for a while,” he said.

“This is strong stuff. I want to make sure

there’s no adverse reaction.”

She blinked rapidly, already growing

groggy. Jared’s face blurred.

“Don’t

fight

it,

Maralee,”

he

murmured, stroking her cheek. “Just

relax.”

She couldn’t help but relax. Her body

felt heavy, her thoughts and senses seemed

to be drifting away. Within a few minutes,

she was sound asleep. For once, her sleep

wasn’t plagued by nightmares. She dreamt

of two small Wolf cubs, one black and

one white. Both had contrasting marks

across their left eye in the shape of a

crescent moon. Watching them play

together in the forest brought the deepest

joy to her heart.

Nash and Carsha picked their way through

the forest in single file. Nash was

dragging the carcass of a large buck. A fat,

gray rabbit dangled from Carsha’s mouth.

He would have field dressed the animals,

but he hadn’t brought a knife. Because he

vowed never to shift to his human form

again, a knife would have been useless

anyway. Opposable thumbs had distinct

advantages, but he would get by without

them. He was out to prove, for reasons not

altogether clear, being a Wolf was as

good as being a human. Carsha whined

behind him and he stopped to look at her.

She dropped her rabbit and sat back on

her haunches, panting. Apparently there

were limits to the pup’s boundless energy.

Nash dropped the leg of his deer.

Almost home
, he barked.

She melted into her human form,

scowling at him. “I’m tired, Uncle Nash.”

It’s going to start snowing soon. We

need to hurry.

“I can’t. I’m too tired.”

Climb up on my back. I’ll carry you

for a bit.

Her face broke into a wide smile.

“Yeah!”

She picked up her rabbit in one hand

and scurried up onto his back. She lay

along his back on her belly, draped her

arms around him and rubbed her face

against the back of his neck.

Better change back to Wolf. You’ll

freeze.

“Your fur is warm,” she murmured

drowsily.

He didn’t argue with her further. She

would change back on her own if she

became cold while she slept. With

fatigued jaws, Nash grabbed the deer

carcass around the neck and continued

through the forest towards village.

By the time they reached home, it was

snowing heavily. Carsha’s small Wolf

body was curled up between his shoulder

blades, covered in a fluffy blanket of

frigid white. Rella met them on the front

porch. Nash dropped the deer carcass at

the bottom of the steps.

“I was starting to worry about you

two,” Rella said, tugging her cardigan

more snuggly around her body.

She’s asleep
, Nash woofed quietly.

Rella chuckled and retrieved her pup

from Nash’s back. “You actually wore her

out. Impressive.” She started back

towards the house, Carsha curled up in her

arms. Nash stood there indecisively. Rella

held the door open for him. “Just put the

deer up on the porch. I’ll dress it a little

later.”

He pulled the carcass up the steps and

left it in the corner of the porch. He shook

the snow from his fur and stepped into the

house. Lark and Lord sat on the sofa

reading from schoolbooks Nash had given

them. Both appeared injury-free already.

“Uncle

Nash!”

Lark

greeted

enthusiastically. He set his book aside and

jumped to his feet. He was very much like