The Bewitching Twin, page 10
“You would make a very good one.”
“I would?” Anna asked, surprised.
Aliss began to comb the tangles from her hair. “The clan will need a healer once I am gone. I will teach you all I can until then and you can continue to learn on your own as I once did.”
“You really are going to leave us?”
“Once I determine the cause for the persistent illness and provide a cure, yes, I will leave.” Aliss shook her head. “You knew that. Everyone here does.”
“True enough,” Anna said sadly. “Lately, a few of us have thought differently.”
“Why is that?”
Anna shrugged and averted her eyes.
Aliss would have none of it. “Tell me, Anna, what wagging tongues say about me.”
“Nothing bad,” Anna reassured. “Many rather hoped that you would choose to remain here with us.”
“Why?” Aliss tugged at the last knotted strand of hair.
Anna grinned and leaned closer. “Many of us hoped that you and the Wolf would fall in love.”
Aliss’s mouth fell open and the comb dropped from her hand. “Fall in love?”
“We all had hoped he would find love again. The Wolf is such a good man. He deserves someone special and we all agree you are very special and just right for him.”
Aliss sputtered in shock. “H-he ab-abducted me. How can I be right for him or he for me?” She may have given the prospect thought, but to hear another voice, it startled her.
“His intentions were good. He meant you no harm; we desperately needed a skilled healer. Being the protective chieftain that he is, Rogan saw to our needs.”
“And nothing more?” Aliss asked, trying to assuage the nagging doubt that would creep up on occasion and tempt her sanity.
“What more could there be?” Anna asked curiously. “You see for yourself the illness that brought you here. We are a simple people who love and laugh and break bread together.”
Aliss’s brow wrinkled. “You break bread together.” She grabbed hold of Anna’s arm. “All bread?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does everyone eat the same type of bread?
“More eat the light than the dark bread,” Anna answered.
“Which do you and John eat?”
“The light, sweeter bread.” Anna shook her head. “The black bread is tasteless to me.”
“Not bitter?”
Anna had no more than given her head one shake when Aliss jumped up and hurried off. A surprised Anna followed quickly behind her.
Aliss hurried to find Rogan. She had to speak with him now. It was important. She heard the clash of swords and knew he practiced with his men. It was a daily ritual meant to keep their skills sharpened.
She pushed past the circle of men and stopped a safe distance from the mock battle.
“Stop!” she yelled at a high pitch that had everyone cringing.
Rogan turned a shaking head at her.
“It is important. I need to talk with you right now,” she said.
His opponent wandered off, as did the circle of men, giving the couple a modicum of privacy.
She marched right up to him. “Did Myra tell you something about black bread that Ivan had eaten before he had gotten sick?”
“Yes, she—”
“Has Derek eaten black bread?”
Rogan nodded.
“Young Daniel?”
“I am not sure.”
Aliss turned with a flourish but was stopped when Rogan grabbed her arm. “I will go with you.”
“Put down your sword, then, for this enemy must be vanquished with the mind as the weapon.”
He did and they hurried off together, Anna rushing to keep up.
In no time, Aliss discovered a trail of sickness that followed the black bread and it led to Margaret, the old woman who had originated the recipe.
Margaret was not at her cottage when they stopped and the three divided up to locate her. Anna found her and quickly fetched Aliss and Rogan.
“I saw Margaret enter James’s home, a basket on her arm,” Anna said, breathless from running.
Aliss bolted past the two, her skirt hiked up in her hands and her feet pounding the earth. She came to an abrupt halt once past the opened door and quickly searched the room.
James was sitting by the fireplace, his grandparents were at the table, and Margaret was spreading honey on chunks of black bread. They all greeted her with a smile and invited her to join them.
Aliss went over to Margaret and took the offered bread from her hand. “Thank you, but I need to speak with you first.”
Anna and Rogan entered.
“Anna, please see that everyone waits for us to share the delicious bread,” Aliss said, her hand gently guiding Margaret out the door. She nodded for Rogan to follow.
The old woman’s steps were slow and Rogan helped her to sit on a bench near the door, which Aliss closed so no one could hear their conversation.
“How long have you been baking black bread, Margaret?” Aliss asked, sitting beside her.
“As long as I can remember.” She smiled. “Not everyone has a taste for its distinct flavor.”
“So I have learned.”
Margaret pointed a finger at Rogan. “He never liked it.” She patted Aliss’s arm. “You should try it.”
“I will. Have you made it the same way all these years?”
The old woman seemed reluctant to answer.
“It is important,” Rogan said firmly.
Margaret leaned away from Aliss and cast an anxious look to Rogan. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No, Margaret, not at all,” Rogan assured her.
Margaret sighed. “To be truthful, it is not I who have baked the black bread these last few months.” She held up gnarled fingers. “I cannot knead the bread as I once did so Tara has been kind enough to mix the ingredients and knead the dough and leave the loaves for me to bake.”
Aliss placed her hand on the old woman’s arm. “Have you eaten any of the bread she has prepared for you?”
Margaret cast her eyes to the ground, gave her head a shake then looked up at Aliss. “I never favored the black bread, I only make it for those who do.”
“I need the loaf you brought to James.”
“I thought he might enjoy it,” she said, and stood with Aliss’s help.
“I’m sure he will but this loaf is mine if you don’t mind,” Aliss said.
Aliss soon had the black bread safely in her hands and she and Rogan went directly to Tara’s cottage.
The young woman was busy mixing another batch of bread and welcomed them with a smile and an enthusiastic greeting.
“We are here to see if you can help us with something,” Aliss explained.
“Of course,” Tara said, and wiped her hands on the cloth tucked by a corner in her waistband.
“You have been baking bread for Margaret, but you don’t eat any yourself?” Aliss asked.
“She confided her secret finally, did she?” Tara asked with a laugh and shook her head. “And no, I don’t like the black bread though Daniel does.”
Aliss asked, “Have you followed her recipe exactly?”
Tara hesitated. “Has she complained of my bread?”
“No, she has praised your baking skills.”
Tara sighed, relieved, and plopped down on a chair at the table. “Good, I didn’t want her to find out that I accidentally changed her recipe.”
“How so?” Aliss asked.
“I’m not very good at identifying herbs, most look the same to me, and only recently did I realize I had been using the wrong herb in Margaret’s black bread and returned to her original ingredient.”
“That would explain why the illness suddenly stopped,” Aliss said to Rogan.
“Illness?” Tara said, grabbing at her chest. “I caused everyone to get ill?”
“Do not worry yourself,” Aliss said. “Have you any of the herb you had used?”
“A little, I think.” Tara looked in her crocks and soon presented a single leaf to Aliss.
One whiff of the sickly-sweet dried leaf and Aliss knew she had caught the culprit. The old healer whom she had learned from had taught her to distinguish scents. She had warned that a knowledgeable nose could save lives.
“This is poisonous,” Aliss said.
“You are sure?” Tara asked, tears welling in her eyes.
“I am sure.”
Tara looked to Rogan. “I am sorry. I did not know. You will not make me leave here, will you? Daniel and I have no place to go. This is the only home he has ever known and the only place I have ever felt wanted and safe.”
“You are not going anywhere, Tara. This is your home and here is where you will stay. I told you when you first arrived here years ago that you became part of this clan and will remain so until you take your last breath.”
“But I have hurt my family.”
“Not on purpose,” Aliss reminded.
“No one will trust me ever again,” Tara said sadly.
“No one need ever know of this,” Rogan said firmly.
“You will tell no one?” Tara asked with surprised relief.
“It is not necessary for anyone to know. The problem has been solved and no more will grow ill. That is what matters.”
“You are a good man, Rogan,” Tara said through tears. “I am in your debt.”
Aliss was certain there would be no more illnesses. She also made sure to teach Anna how to determine which plants were poisonous. That she held the teaching session out under the bright afternoon sun where the women wandered by and sat to join them was no accident.
Aliss visited with those who were still recovering, confident now that they would be well in no time. James was growing stronger every day and would soon be completely healed. The herb garden flourished and she taught Anna the properties of the different plants and mixtures to aid in specific healings.
The days rolled by, and one by one, the people healed nicely. No more grew ill and Margaret’s black bread continued to be in demand.
Summer was in full bloom. Children ran in play, healthy babies were delivered, gardens flourished along with the people. The Wolf clan was doing well.
It was time for Aliss to return home.
Chapter 15
Rogan knew the time approached. Soon Aliss would ask him to take her home. She had fulfilled her part of the bargain and now it was time for him to fulfill his. That, however, he was not going to be able to do, and when she discovered why, he wondered if she would forgive him.
He sat at the table in front of the hearth wondering what he would do. He had not counted on Aliss and her bewitching ways.
He had waited as the days passed and the people grew well. Waited for the time she demanded to be returned home.
He had also noticed that she kept her distance from him after discovering the cause of the illness. She no longer stood close to him, reached out to take his hand, seek out a kiss, or rest her head on his shoulder. She distanced herself from him day after day, moving further and further away until it felt as if she had already departed.
He rubbed his head. This was not going as he had planned. It had seemed so easy when he had first made preparations—and now? Now Aliss was no longer a means to an end. She was a woman who intrigued him, excited him and soothed him.
Damn, but he was in trouble. He leaned his head back and groaned.
“What is wrong? Do you not feel well?” Aliss asked, dropping her basket by the door and anxiously hurrying over to him to feel his forehead. “You are warm.”
“I am fine,” he argued.
“I will fix you a brew.”
She walked away from him and he reached out and snagged her around the waist, drawing her to him to rest his head on her chest.
“You keep your distance from me. Why?”
He could hear her heart beat slow then fast then slow and fast again, and he hugged her waist.
“I am not sure.”
Honesty again. It speared his heart for he was not being honest with her.
“I miss touching you, kissing you.” Honest words from him and spoken from the heart. When he looked up at her, her green eyes had softened and her arms drifted around him.
“I am confused.”
“Have I done that to you?” he asked, concerned, reaching out to grasp her arm and slip his hand down until his fingers locked with hers. He brought them to his lips and kissed them.
“You make me feel—”
“Cared for?”
He felt her shiver and he stood, wrapping his arms around her.
She pushed him away and took a step back. “You know I leave soon.”
“So was our bargain.”
“It is still so.”
“If you still want it so,” he said.
“It can be no other way.”
“Why?”
“My work—”
“Is an excuse,” he said.
“It is important.”
“Above all else?”
“I thought you understood.”
“I understand more than you realize.”
She shook her head. “Do not make this hard for me.”
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
“No!”
“Why?”
She turned her head and he pounced on her, grabbing her by the shoulders. “Tell me why.”
She closed her eyes. “Because I am afraid I will not want to stop. Please. Please let me go.”
“You will simply walk away?” he asked as if he did not believe her.
“What choice do I have?” She stepped around him and hurried out of the cottage.
That she would soon leave Rogan had weighed heavily on her mind. She had never expected to admire the Wolf. He was a courageous warrior, but even more, he was a man who cared deeply for his people and protected them however he could. He was also a man who had loved a woman, lost her, and was not afraid to love again.
She drifted along the edge of the woods, the sun near to setting and the warm night air whispering across her face like a lover’s kiss.
Her hand went to her lips and she thought about the kisses she had shared with Rogan.
“How do you feel when you kiss him?”
She smiled at her sister’s familiar voice in her head. Leave it to Fiona to remind her of how important a kiss was. How could she ignore how she felt when Rogan kissed her? It was like he weaved a magical spell around her and entranced her.
She liked the feeling and would think about it throughout the day. Would those memories be all she had? Would she never know a kiss like that again?
Did she want to?
Not from anyone but Rogan.
Her answer came sharp and swift and made her realize that she could never kiss another man. What was she thinking? She would only be disappointed, and besides, she did not want to kiss another man.
She began to pace. She had not thought this through. She would return home only to face the prospect of finding a suitable husband. How could she find one after sharing kisses with Rogan?
Other men would pale in comparison. She would never be satisfied with another man. Would she pine for Rogan the rest of her days? Would she wonder if there was a chance for them to love each other?
She kicked at the dirt, frustrated with her situation, when she was struck by a thought. If she felt this strongly about leaving Rogan and his kisses, why not marry him? It would be a good solution to her problem. She would not be saddled with a man she did not favor. She could wed a man whom she actually cared about, maybe a man she could eventually love.
He also did not mind her healing work. He had been an encouragement to her through the ordeal of healing his people. He would not demand she tend to him and forsake her passion to heal.
Of course, there was the problem of convincing Tarr of her decision. After all, Rogan had speared his arm with an arrow and he had attacked Tarr’s land on two occasions.
However, Tarr had stipulated that the decision was hers to make.
She pushed her doubts aside and concentrated on her situation. Tarr might capitulate if he believed her in love and allow her to wed Rogan. Or . . .
She shook her head, rejecting the sudden notion. It might not be a wise choice, though it would prove the most effective. No one could stop her from wedding Rogan if the marriage took place here. The deed would be done, their vows consummated.
No one could object. It would be over and done and they would be bound to each other for life. Did she want that? Did she want marriage to Rogan?
She had not wanted to marry at all, but she would wed regardless of her own desires. Why not wed Rogan?
The debate raged in her head and try as she might, a solid answer was not forthcoming. She found reasons to wed him and reasons not to. The point of the whole matter, though, was that she was going to wed, one way or the other.
What choice did she really have?
“Aliss!”
The shout spun her around and she rushed forward to meet a harried Anna. “What is wrong?”
“Laurel is in labor and calls for you.”
Aliss smiled. “Good, a happy occasion for a healer.”
“I have delivered only one babe,” said an anxious Anna.
“Deliver one, deliver them all. Worry not. I will teach you what to expect, what to watch out for, and what a privilege it is to bring a babe into this world.”
Rogan stepped out of the cottage as they passed the door.
“We need to talk,” she said and stopped for a moment. Anna rushed past her. “But first I must birth Laurel’s babe.”
Rogan grabbed hold of her arm. “Tell me now.”
“I have no time.”
“Now!” he insisted.
“I wish to marry you,” she said, and yanked her arm free to hurry off.
Rogan stood staring after her then suddenly broke into a grin. It faded rapidly with John and Derek’s frenzied approach.
“We have a problem,” Derek said.
The sky was filled with thousands of tinkling stars and Aliss was certain they twinkled in happiness for her and Rogan. It was after midnight when she returned to the cottage.
She had left Anna to tend Laurel and her newborn son. The delivery had gone smoothly. The proud father, Peter, kept tight hold of his tiny son, repeatedly telling him how much he loved him, while the new mother rested comfortably.
