Free Heart's War (Heart and Soul) by Kathryn Loch Page B

closed the distance and caught her in his arms before she toppled over. “I'm  . . . I'm all right,” she murmured, but she sagged against him, depending on his strength. “I just need a moment.”
    He sighed heavily. She would work herself until she dropped , but he understood and appreciated her desire to help. Though many may not be happy he was to marry an Englishwoman, her work here would do much to prove herself in the eyes of his Welsh brethren. But she was also his responsibility. He couldn't allow her to push herself to collapse.
    He guided her away from the wounded and found an empty alcove where he unceremoniously sat on the floor and pulled her into his arms. He motioned for a servant to bring them food. Cook was already rationing and had made a stew, thinner than normal, but still hearty enough to sustain everyone.
    Rose rested her head against his chest and he was abruptly reminded of his rescue of her so many years ago. She had been exhausted from her captivity and near starved. Many times she had fallen asleep as they rode for home, resting her head against his chest, trusting him to keep her in the saddle.
    The servant brought him two bowls and he released her enough to eat but she hardly moved. She ate very little, only picking at her food.
    He finished his bowl and set it aside and she had still barely touched hers. He closed his arms around her again and stroked her silky hair. He didn't wish to move. The hall had fallen silent and the night aged. There appeared to be a break in the refugees streaming through the gate. He didn't know how long it would last but welcomed the respite. He really should take her upstairs; the peace would not last long.
    “Rose,” he whispered.
    She didn't respond and he bent his neck to look down at her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and even. She had fallen asleep already. He had not the heart to wake her.
    Brynmor pressed his lips to the top of her head and allowed himself a tiny smile , again reminded of their journey home. “Aye, little one, rest. I will not let you fall.”
    ****
    Sunshine streaming through an archer loophole and onto her face slowly woke Rose. As her awareness unwillingly pulled itself together, she realized she had fallen asleep in Brynmor’s arms, and her head was still resting on his chest. She found herself unwilling to move and give up the pleasant sensation.
    His hand gently caressed her hair and she felt his lips pressing against the top of her head. “Are you awake?” he murmured.
    “Aye . . . barely.”
    A soft chuckle rumbled through him.
    She lifted her head enough to look up at him. The stubble on his chin had grown darker but his eyes gazed at her with a warmth she had never seen before. It was probably her exhausted imagination but it seemed with his weariness, the defenses that he brought to bear keeping everyone at arm’s length had slipped a bit. “How long?”
    “A few scant hours.”
    “And you?”
    “ I dozed for a time.” His arms tightened around her and he shifted to the side, pulling her with him and out of the sunlight shining in her face. She blinked rapidly against the spots in her vision.
    “Bryn mor, you need to rest too.”
    “I rested as much as you did.” He pulled her back to his chest. “It seems this respite is lasting longer than I expected. We have a short time before more arrive.”
    “More?”
    “I heard the sentries. They have spotted more refugees on the road, headed this way.”
    She sighed miserably.
    “I know, little one.”
    She rolled her eyes at the nickname , but Brynmor could not see the action.
    “I should get cleaned up,” he grumbled, “but I have no desire to move.”
    Rose looked up at him again. Without command, her fingers reached out and brushed the rough stubble on his jaw. She couldn’t resist the smile pulling at her lips. “You appear as a rogue bent on mischief.”
    His gaze suddenly grew hooded, and his blue-green eyes sparked. He curled his