I shot to sitting, screeching, “What are you doing?”
“Preparing to sleep,” he replied calmly.
“Here?” I asked shrilly.
“Yes,” he answered, still calm.
“You can’t sleep here,” I informed him.
This was met with silence. He was on his back. I was on my booty with my torso twisted to look down at him and his eyes were on me.
Then he asked, “Where do you suggest I sleep?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “Don’t you have a bedroll or something?”
He got up on both elbows and returned, “No, I don’t have a bedroll. I left this morning on the errand of getting my brother to a church and dragging your arse out of bed. I didn’t come prepared to camp in the wilderness.”
Hmm. Of course he was right.
“Maybe you can take some hides and make a bed on the other side of the fire,” I suggested.
“And maybe you can do that,” he retorted. “I’m sleeping here.”
Then he lay back down and yanked at the covers which made me teeter as they pulled against me. I held firm and continued glaring at him.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I declared.
“As you know, I’m perfectly fine with that. The one time I took you to my bed, it was vastly unpleasant. I’m not yearning for another go.”
I blinked and when I opened my eyes, I knew they were huge. “We’ve slept together?”
I knew this was likely a crazy question, seeing as we were married, but still.
He got up on his elbows again and scowled at me, “Why do you persist in this foolishness?”
I didn’t reply to his question, I was on a mission so I repeated, “We’ve slept together?”
He glared at me before he sighed and stated, “I’ll play,” on a mumble. Then he continued, “We have, indeed, slept together. As you know, because you were bloody there, after our wedding, we consummated the union. To say you were the worst I ever had would be to utter the definition of an understatement. You, Cora, are undoubtedly the worst any man could ever have.”
Oh God.
He went on, “Then you spent the night in my bed. You snored,” he paused then carried on, “loudly. Then you kept stealing the covers, moved around an inordinate amount and took up most of the bed. I endured it but never wished to repeat it. However, we’re here, this is the only place to sleep, I’m sleeping here, with you, if I must. If you prefer to move across the way, be my guest.”
Okay, there was a lot to consider there. First was the fact that he was my husband and he’d only had sex with me once, it didn’t go well (to say the least) and he’d only slept with me in his bed once. Second was the fact that I was getting the sense we didn’t live together which wasn’t surprising to me since he was a jerk and he obviously didn’t like the Cora of this world. Third was that Cora of this world was way not like me; I didn’t snore and I slept like the dead, usually in a fetal position, waking up in the same spot as I fell asleep. Last was the fact that I didn’t exactly know how to separate the hides so we both had our fair share considering they were stitched together.
Then it came to me.
“Okay, how about this,” I started. “I take the sheepskins with me, you get the top hide and the grassy stuff.”
“No, you want to move, you get the cowhide on top.”
So that was cow.
Interesting.
“That isn’t fair,” I informed him. “The sheepskins are fluffier.”
“I know,” he replied.