the barn door by his balls when I caught him spanking you. But he has stepped up in committing to you, and I am heartened by the way he is with you.”
“He makes me happy,” I say, feeling the tears threaten to spill again. I don’t remember being as happy as I have been these last few weeks. First, Hazel arrived, and in the same breath, Nola was banished from the clan.
There was a brief, painful dip in my joy when Brandon and Fen returned and I learned he had rutted another lass. Suka, the former member of Nola’s posse, had been eager to spill the gossip.
But that very same day, I met Gage in the woods. And then the next day, Brandon arrived at my door with flowers in his hands.
My heart hurts.
For both the men I have come to care for. One, I have loved all my life—have obsessed over. The other, I have watched from afar for many years only to have him crash into my world after he was attacked by an Orc.
I healed him.
Why would the Goddess work through me to heal a man who was not good?
“It means you are Goddess blessed,” Gage had said gruffly. “It will be our secret, Jessa.”
I should not be thinking of another man when Brandon will be leaving, possibly heading into danger. Yet my heart does not care for reason.
My heart still wants them both.
I suffer so much guilt.
“I was going to see him now,” I say. “Do you think they will have left yet?”
He glances out the window before winking at me. “If you are quick, you might catch him afore he leaves.”
“Shoes!” he calls when I race for the door still in my nightgown.
Huffing, I shove my feet into my boots, fling the door open, and clatter down the steps.
I come to an abrupt stop when I find Brandon stood there staring at my home.
He blinks slowly like he is as shocked to find me there as I similarly am.
A broad smile splits his face as he takes a few steps to me and gathers me into his arms. “I was going to knock upon the door but was worried your father would kick my ass for waking everyone up.”
“I have not slept a wink,” I say. “I am glad you are here, and I can see you before you go.”
“Me too,” he says, lips against my hair and deep rumbly purr coming from his chest.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jessa
I GO THROUGH the motion of helping my mother with my sibling brats. I am busy tidying their bedding but have half an eye on the table. Greta is full of mischief this morning. But I am tired and not in the mood. She is using her biscuit like a spoon to scoop the porridge, and it is going everywhere. William thinks this is funny. Greta pokes her tongue out at him. He retaliates by scooping a spoonful of porridge and flicking it over Greta.
A great dollop lands on her forehead… and slowly trickles down.
My mother gasps. There is a delay before Greta opens her mouth and emits an ear-splitting wail.
William grins and goes back to eating his porridge.
“William, clear the table,” my mother says as she takes a cloth to wipe a wailing Greta up.
“I’ve not finished yet!” William announces.
“You should have considered that afore you threw it over your sister,” my mother says, lips thinned. “A hungry lad does not toss his food about like an animal. Happen you will be ready to eat like a good boy at lunchtime. Or if there is any more of this nonsense, you will be going hungry until supper, and I’ll be telling your father why.”
I bite back a laugh as William jumps down from the seat and gathers the plates with an enthusiastic clatter. Telling Pa will likely see his bottom tanned.
Greta bewails her lack of breakfast. “You were playing with it,” my mother says. “Lasses who play with their breakfast are not hungry either. I was going to bake some cookies today, but I’m not sure either of you has behaved well enough.”
Great squeals of excitement greet this development, followed by babbled determinations as to their future goodness.
“Okay, chores time, and I will see how good you are after,” my mother says decisively.
Their chores are not very hard. But it gives them a purpose. There is a vegetable plot out the back and chickens for eggs. We have a small flock of wool sheep, which are shorn once a