“Eric ordered in a soft voice as he urged her toward the fire he had just built. “Tend to the wee lad and I will do all the rest.” “I should help,” Bethia murmured even as she sat down. “Ye are. I can tend the horse, make camp, and prepare us a poor but hearty meal. I cannae tend to a bairn.” She nodded as he set her bag down next to her. Exhaustion weighted her movements as she spread out the changing rags she had washed earlier in the day, hoping they would finish drying by the fire. Bethia di...d not understand the deep weariness that had infected her. She had not been walking all that long before Sir Eric had found her, barely two nights and most of two days. Then she had enjoyed the ease of riding for the rest of the day yet she felt as if she had not slept for weeks. As she changed James’s rags and spread out his bedding, she tried to shrug off her weariness, at least enough so that she could stay awake through the meal and ask Sir Eric Murray a few hard questions. What troubled her the most was how she seemed to have relaxed the moment she had accepted Sir Eric’s kind offer of aid.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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