on foot.
“Could someone have followed you?”
Her eyes widened, and I was shocked to see her draw a knife. She had never carried one before. I drew mine as well.
Heavy footsteps scraped on the stone steps outside the door. Pauline and I both stood and then the door opened.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
KADEN
I saw the blade before I saw her. It flashed past me, slicing my shoulder just as I slammed her up against the wall.
And then I saw that it was Pauline.
Lia was yelling at both of us. “Drop the knife, Pauline! Drop it! Kaden! Let her go!”
The knife was still firm in her grip, her hand straining against mine. “Stop!” I yelled.
She seethed. “Not this time, barbarian!”
I felt the sting where the blade had cut me and the warmth of blood spreading across my shoulder. “What’s the matter with you? You could have killed me!”
Her eyes held no apology, only hatred that I didn’t think it was possible for Pauline to possess.
“Stop!” Lia said firmly, and she pulled the knife from Pauline’s hand. She nodded for me to let Pauline go. I took a chance and released her, moving out of her reach, waiting for her to come at me again. Lia stepped between us.
“I told him to come, Pauline,” she said. “He’s here to help. We can trust him.”
But Pauline was incensed and still not listening. “You lied to us! We treated you with nothing but kindness and then—”
Lia continued to try to explain and calm Pauline down.
I stood there, not knowing what to say, because every word she flung at me was true—true as Pauline always was. I had traded on her kindness and trust.
“He’s changed, Pauline! You have to stop and listen to me!”
She stared at me, her eyes like glass, her chest heaving, and then suddenly she doubled over, clutching her stomach. Lia grabbed Pauline’s arm to steady her. Water seeped to the floor around her feet. Pauline groaned and then was clutched with a stronger spasm. I ran to her other side, and Lia and I both kept her from falling. Even in her pain, she tried to wrench free of me.
“The bed!” Lia yelled.
I scooped Pauline into my arms and carried her to the bare wood frame in the corner. “Get the bedroll from my horse!”
Lia ran out the door, and Pauline ordered me to put her down.
“I will,” I said. “Believe me, nothing will give me greater pleasure, as soon as Lia returns.”
Lia was back in seconds, shaking out the roll, and I laid Pauline on top of it.
“It can’t be time,” Lia said to Pauline. “You still have a month to go.”
Pauline shook her head. “It’s time.”
Lia stared at Pauline’s swollen belly, not trying to hide her alarm. “I don’t know anything about this. I’ve never—” Her gaze shot to me. “Do you—”
“No!” I said, shaking my head. “Not me. I’ve never done it either. I’ve seen horses—”
“I am not a horse!” Pauline screamed. She leaned forward in another spasm. “Berdi,” she groaned. “Go get Berdi.”
I started for the door. “Tell me where—”
“No,” Lia said, cutting me off. “Berdi would never come with you, and I can find her faster. Stay here.”
Pauline and I both protested.
“There’s no other choice!” Lia snapped. “Stay! Keep her comfortable! I’ll be right back!”
She left, slamming the door behind her.
I stared at the door, not wanting to turn and face Pauline. Babies took hours, I told myself. Sometimes days. It wasn’t more than a twenty-minute walk into town. Lia would be back within the hour. I listened to the rain, coming down louder and harder.
Pauline moaned again, and I reluctantly turned. “Do you need something?”
“Not from you!”
An hour passed, and I alternated between silently cursing Lia and worrying about what had happened to her. Where was she? Pauline’s pains were becoming stronger and more frequent. She swatted my hand away when I tried to wipe her brow with a cool cloth.
Between pains, she leveled a scrutinizing stare at me. “Last time I saw you, Lia was ordering you to go straight to hell. What dark magic did you weave to make her trust you now?”
I looked at her glistening face, damp strands of her blond hair clinging to her cheek, a loss in her eyes I had never seen before. “People change, Pauline.”
Her lip pulled up in disgust, and she looked away. “No. They don’t.” Her voice wobbled, full of unexpected sorrow instead of anger.
“You’ve changed,” I said.
She glared at me, her hands passing over her belly. “Is that