With a shake of her head, Tressa threaded her way through the gathered crowds. She bumped elbows, but before she could apologize, she was pulled to the side. Connor had a strong grip on her arm. Tressa didn’t struggle. If he needed to talk to her, then she was more than willing to listen.
“Don’t go over there,” he whispered in her ear. Connor tugged lightly on her arm, pulling her to the side of the village hall. They stood in the shadow of the tallest building in the village, hidden from any prying eyes.
“What’s going on?”
“Three more are dead. There’s some kind of plague spreading. No one knows where it came from.”
“Why are you pulling me to the side to tell me this? If everyone knows, why all the whispering?” Tressa knew Connor didn’t do anything without good reason. He was solid, dependable. The last person to overreact to anything.
“Some are blaming you.”
Tressa took in a breath. “Me? What could this possibly have to do with me?” Her hand fluttered over her chest. A few years ago, another illness had spread through the village. One of the men who tended the cattle had purposely let the villagers eat tainted meat. Only after people had died did he confess his sin. He’d believed no one would get hurt, even though he’d seen the sores on the cattle before slaughtering it.
In a village with little in the way of medicine, health was held as one of the most important things to maintain. One terrible plague could kill them all.
“Since Sophia fell sick and died the night before you were supposed to leave, the whispers say that you poisoned her in an effort to save yourself. Everyone knows how Udor looks at you. He’s your only salvation from the fog.”
Anger swept through Tressa’s veins, setting her heart on fire. “Anyone who thinks I would kill Granna to avoid the fog is crazy. I would never do that!”
“I know that. You know that.” Connor shook his head and ran his fingers through his sandy hair. “But not all of them know that.”
Tressa knew that was true. Sophia was the only remaining person who was alive when the fog descended. Some people revered her. Others mistrusted her. No one knew the truth anymore. At some point, history morphed into fable. The ramblings of one old woman were seen less as fact than mythology – a mythology that permeated the one tradition everyone feared.
“I would have left. I prefer that to one moment in Udor’s arms.”
Connor laughed, muffling it behind a hand. “I don’t think any of us could stand that, Tressa.” He slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Look, I will protect you as best as I can. I’ve already defended you more than once. You can count on me to be here for you.”
Tressa nodded, grateful she had such a good friend. She was also thrilled his first coupling had produced a child.
“Is Hazel okay with that?”
Connor nodded. “She understands. She was already prepared for me to leave with you and Geoff today. Unlike some people, Hazel believed Sophia. She wants our children to grow up outside of this village. If I can be one of the people who brings that about, then there’s nothing I could do to make her prouder.”
“You have a good woman, Connor.” Tressa’s heart squeezed. She wanted to be that kind of partner for someone. Maybe someday.
A blush spread across Connor’s pale cheeks. He knew how lucky he was too. It wasn’t often that true love sprung forth from a chance coupling.
“You do know Udor said we don’t have to leave now.”
Connor’s eyes flitted over to the gathering crowd. “I know. He came by late last night and told me. I didn’t get a wink of sleep.”
“Why?” Tressa didn’t sleep well either, plagued by disturbing dreams. Sometimes she felt like dreaming was just her mind working on all of her problems and fears. She certainly had enough to keep her busy right now between Granna’s death and Udor’s threats.
Connor shrugged. “I guess I’m not sure how I feel. I’ve been preparing myself, mentally and physically, to leave. The last few months have been hard, but I was ready.” He tapped his head and then his heart.
“I wish I was more like you. I’ve done nothing but worry. Probably because Granna wouldn’t stop talking about it every day. She was just as proud of me as Hazel is of you. Except I felt like it was a death sentence. I’ve done little to prepare.” A small, nervous laugh escaped her lips. “I guess I would have been dead weight to you and Geoff.”
“Oh, Tressa, you’re never dead weight. You’re twice as clever as I am in a tight spot.
Tressa rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I could weave a belt out of grass. Helpful, indeed.”