The Harvest King - Paula Quinn Page 0,50

like that. I tried to read about God first, but He frightened me a little. So I started reading the book of Matthew, about Jesus and I’m enjoying it very much.”

She asked him some facts about the book, like how old were the scrolls they found? When exactly did Jesus live? Who wrote Matthew? Matthew?

He answered all her questions and told her they would read the book of John next. Another disciple.

“Shauna told me a little about her and Jonas,” she told him. “Truthfully, I would have never thought of Jonas as a man with a heart for one woman.”

“He’s loved her since he was a boy.”

“Oh,” her eyes opened wider. “Yes, that’s right. Oh, poor Jonas. I must tell you I don’t care for Ermile.”

“Nor do I,” he shared as if she hadn’t been able to figure it out. “His invitation to take her to Prandar shows me he’s a careless fool. My sister will never be happy with him.”

“We must help.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” he pointed out.

They laughed and then she looked into his eyes. “Thank you for showing me your fields, Caleb. I think this is my favorite place in the world now.”

Chapter 17

Caleb and Willow entered the village a few hours later and were met by Jarod, out of breath and shaken on his mount. “Caleb, where have you been? I’ve been searching for you for over an hour.” He swallowed, then continued before giving Caleb a chance to answer. “Shauna left here with Ermile. She said they were going to Prandar.”

“When?” Caleb demanded, taking Jarod’s horse by the reins. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“Stop Shauna?” Jarod almost laughed. “You jest.”

Caleb’s eyes glittered like forged steel. “Was Jonas with them?”

“No. I don’t know where Jonas is. I saw them leave. They were alone.”

Caleb uttered a short prayer for patience. “Ready yourself,” he ordered the young Warrior. “We’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Shall I get the others?” Jarod called out as Caleb started for the cottage.

“Yes. Find Jonas.”

Willow entered the cottage on Caleb’s heels and followed him up the stairs to his room.

“I’m going to kill Ermile,” he promised as he searched for his belt. “I’m going to kill him for taking my sister out there alone.”

He stormed around the room like a dark cloud ready to explode and Willow remembered the day he fought against the Catchers. She shivered at the cold savagery that drifted across his features now. He picked up daggers that seemed to appear out of everywhere, from within drawers, under his pillow, behind a small wardrobe. He had weapons hidden everywhere in the room. He slipped them into his clothes in various places with the same zeal in which he retrieved them, tucking knives and two small axes under his pant legs, at his sides, behind his back, and into his boots. Willow had never seen him so angry and it frightened her.

“Please be careful.”

He stopped his ranting to look at her, and then she was in his arms. “I will. I promise. I just want to bring her back.” His voice was strong and reassuring, calming her anxious heart. He took a step back to smile at her. “I’ll send someone over with your water so you can have your bath while I’m gone.”

Willow sighed heavily when he was gone. She was about to go downstairs when something on a small table by his bed caught her eye. She went to it and picked it up. It was a porcelain figurine. She was smiling at the tiny face of a beautiful girl gazing happily into a pool of water when Caleb burst back into the room, startling her. He threw her a crooked half grin that fired her blood. “Forgot my sword.” He retrieved his weapon from a wooden cabinet against the wall then looked at what she was holding.

“That’s yours.” He told her on his way out again. “I bought it for you in Theshwar.” He smiled again, and then hurried out of the room.

Willow looked at the figurine again and then at the doorway. “For me?” she whispered and clutched the tiny girl to her chest. Caleb had bought it for her, not traded, she noted. She realized he’d probably had it when she was crying. She stared at the blue water rippling at the touch of the delicate, tiny fingers and Willow’s eyes burned with tears. All her life she had received gifts from people, jewels, perfumes, furs, the finest fabrics gold could buy. But no

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