insistence, I ate the stew, but slowly, because my stomach still fragile. But as I ate the stew and warm bread, and sipped the apple juice Sarah pushed toward me, my body began to shut down in a sudden lassitude now that I felt safe.
“No, no, Lady Rogan.” Sarah shook me, and I was surprised that it didn’t hurt. Of course. She had healed me. I smiled dopily at her. I could have kissed her for that. “First, we need to get you washed up.”
Again I was too tired to argue. Sarah shooed the rest of the Mosses from the room and set about undressing me. I let her wash me as my own mother had done years before, too exhausted to be embarrassed. She was gentle, even rinsing my hair out and braiding it into a coil on my head.
At last she dressed me in one of her own clean, soft, cotton nightgowns, and led me to a room at the back of the house. It was small with two single beds and a chest of drawers opposite them. Floral curtains were pulled across the window. In the bed closest to the door lay Jr., already fast asleep. In the other bed was L. She sat on the edge of it in cotton long johns. It didn’t surprise me she didn’t wear a nightgown to bed.
“She all right?” L whispered.
“She will be,” Sarah replied. “She just needs sleep.” She turned to me. “Ye can share L’s bed. She don’t mind.”
At that moment, I didn’t care if she did or not. I crawled into the bed and slipped under the covers.
L craned around to look at me. “Make yerself at home.” She grunted and then slid in, too, pulling the covers around us. She reached over and tugged the other side of the quilt so that I was completely covered. Then she turned to Sarah and whispered, “Night, Ma.”
“Night, L. Proud o’ ye, lass.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
I must have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit L’s pillow because I didn’t remember a thing after that.
Chapter 26
The next morning I awoke snuggled up next to L.
She gave a huff of laughter because I’d trapped her in my embrace and she couldn’t get out without waking me up. I blushed beetroot, but she merely waved away my apology.
Apparently everyone else was already up for breakfast. It was midmorning, L told me. They’d let us rest longer. I was grateful. I already felt so much better than I’d ever thought I’d feel again. L gave me clothes—we were of a similar height. I pulled on the soft trousers and shirt, eyeing the stockings and the too-big boots with dread because I knew my feet would soon be wrecked again.
As we dressed for the day, L mentioned I’d woken her up thrashing through what she surmised was a nightmare. I couldn’t remember it and I apologized profusely. Again.
Again, she seemed truly unbothered by the disruption I’d caused.
“I only mentioned it because …” She seemed embarrassed and I raised an eyebrow. “Well, because ye might be wantin’ to talk about what happened to ye. Ye can talk to me.” She shrugged as she turned from me.
I smiled, sad but grateful. “Thank you, L. I don’t …” I bristled at the way my body still clenched in fear at the thought of the mountain man. “I can’t just yet, but thank you.”
L shrugged again and headed into the main room.
Breakfast was delicious.
Eggs, toast, goat cheese. More of Sarah’s delicious apple juice. The Mosses were kind and considerate of not only me but each other, and I enjoyed their teasing banter at the breakfast table. Their home was happy and warm. It was so nice to see that again after what I’d encountered up here in the Alvernian Mountains. It soothed my jangled nerves.
L told me she knew about Haydyn and the sleeping disease. None of them looked particularly worried by that, and I realized it was because it didn’t really affect them way up here where the evocation didn’t reach. But as L went on, I gathered they realized the importance of the evocation for the rest of our world. Although my own opinion on the evocation had changed with this journey, I was still determined to save Haydyn’s life.
The Mosses saw this. They knew there was no stopping me.
And I could see in L’s eyes that she knew for me it was personal—that I felt about Haydyn the way she felt about Jr.
“So, the Pool