to strip away any semblance of manhood he had. At first he found her attitude amusing. Now he wished her lips would fall off.
Ignoring her huffing, he sat down at the table next to his daughter, Farah. “How are you, baby girl?” He ruffled her curls.
Vinya slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t touch her with your filthy hands.”
“Good, Papa.” Farah ignored her mother too. At two, she’d already learned to cope with the circumstances. “Wanna nut?” She held out a walnut in her tiny hand.
Bastian’s fingertips were almost as big as her palm. He plucked the nut and tossed it in the air, catching in it in his mouth. Farah squealed and clapped.
“Again! Again!” She scrambled for another nut.
Vinya slapped Farah’s backside with the broom bristles. “Stop it, now. Go lay down for a nap.” Farah nodded, dropped a quick kiss on Bastian’s cheek, and ran through the door to her little room.
“You don’t have to be so harsh with her, Vinya.” Bastian said between mouthfuls of bread. “She’s still a baby.”
“Speaking of babies…” Vinya sat down at the table next to him. “It’s about time we try to conceive a second. Our village needs children to survive.” She reached out, running her fingertips along his arm. “It’s been so long since –”
Bastian looked up at her. Vinya had loosened her top. She dipped her chin and fluttered her eyelashes at him. Long ago, that move worked. He was younger. More eager. Trying to drown out his frustration about losing Tressa.
Now he didn’t want anything to do with Vinya.
“Sophia died.”
Vinya’s hand snapped back as if he’d burned her. “Finally. That woman was too old. Taking up resources the rest of us need.”
Bastian held back the urge to slap her. He’d never raised a hand to anyone, much less Vinya, but there were moments he fantasized about it. “She was loved deeply by many in this village.”
Vinya snorted.
“What?” He asked even though he knew he shouldn’t.
“You’re only worried about your precious little Tressa. Just like always.” Vinya stood up and continued sweeping the floor. The dirt among the rushes didn’t stand a chance against her fury. “Well, after tomorrow that won’t be a problem anymore. Maybe once the fog swallows her, you’ll be back in my bed. She’ll be forgotten and we can finally have a proper marriage.”
Bastian stood up, wiped the crumbs off his hands over the plate, and placed it in the washbin. He scrubbed with the cloth, sure he would wear a hole in the metal plate. “You shouldn’t speak of death like that.”
It had been gnawing on his soul. Every day since Tressa’s name was chosen three months ago. He’d sought her out repeatedly, but never had the strength to say what he wanted. That he missed her. He loved her. He wanted her to stay in the village and live a long life even if he could never touch her again.
“I can’t wait for Tressa to die.” Vinya stood defiant, her hands clutching the broom’s handle. “I’ll finally have you all to myself.”
Bastian glared at Vinya. “You will never have me. Never again. You make me sick.” He tossed the plate on the table. It slipped and fell to the floor. Neither made a move to pick it up. Bastian strode across the room and through the doorway. He slammed the door behind him, not caring who saw.
She’d gone too far.
Chapter Four
Tressa stepped into the cottage she’d grown up in. The dark wooden walls had always formed a cocoon of happiness for her and Granna. The joyous air in their home had been sucked into Granna with her final inhalation. She probably hadn’t meant to take it with her. Or maybe it had wafted out of her with each exhalation, and now that she was gone, it wouldn’t enter again.
Adam stood over her great grandmother, rubbing oil into her skin, bringing back the luster that had left her. “She’ll look exactly as she did before her death,” Adam said without looking over his shoulder. His red hair seemed dull in the dim light. “During the public viewing, everyone will remember her just as she was. You, unfortunately, will only remember the way she looked at the moment of her death.” He wasn’t one to offer lies for comfort. Tressa appreciated it.
“I assumed as much.” She made her way around the table to Granna’s bedside. Yes, Adam had brought some color back to Granna’s face. She would make a good showing to the people of Hutton’s Bridge.