She hastened her steps.
She would find the reason behind this illness and finally return home.
To what?
Wedding a stranger? Someone she had no feelings for? Someone who would interfere in her healing work? Or someone who would care not at all one way or the other?
Rogan had plucked her out of a hopeless situation, one with no solution, at least not a suitable solution. The time spent here had reminded her how much she enjoyed her freedom and independence. But even though Rogan had abducted her, he had not treated her like a prisoner. She was allowed freedom in the village and she had cherished that.
Still, Fiona and Tarr were her family, and she had yet to get to know her mother and father or her brother Raynor. What would they think if they knew she thought of kissing the Wolf?
She giggled softly. Fiona would encourage her.
Aliss sighed. She really did miss her sister. They talked often, took walks together, shared secrets, and helped each other through difficult times.
She was alone now with no one but herself to help her.
Not so. She corrected herself and knew it to be true.
Rogan had been helpful and protective since first they met. He could have set her to tending his people and ignored her all this time. Instead, he had taken her into his home and made certain she had what she needed and that she got sufficient food and rest.
The Wolf was a good man.
“Aliss.”
She spun around at the sound of Rogan’s voice. He had slipped on a shirt and his green eyes had softened in color.
“I thought you might need your basket.”
He held it up though he made no attempt to give it to her and Aliss made no attempt to take it from him. Her heart raced a little faster than it normally did and a sudden breathlessness attacked her.
Her smile came slowly. “Thank you.”
“I will carry it for you,” he said eagerly.
She nodded and he walked alongside her.
No mention was made of her rushed exit. They strolled together in companionable silence.
Aliss was soon busy talking with those who were ill or had been ill. They went from cottage to cottage. Rogan asked a question or two of his own that proved helpful until finally they both agreed they were famished and returned to their cottage.
“You search for a common cause,” Rogan said once they had eaten.
She nodded. “Something that links them all together. It makes sense. Like Anna’s rash. I knew something caused it but what—” She shook her head. “I only realized it when she spoke of gathering motherwort. It is one plant that can be risky for some to handle.”
“I understand now what makes you such a fine healer.”
She grinned. “My stubborn nature?”
“Your propensity for digging until you get to the truth of the situation.”
“Truth can cure many ills,” she said, “as long as it is acknowledged.”
Their eyes settled gently on each other and for a silent moment lingered there as if caught in a trance or an embrace that neither wished to relinquish and neither acknowledged.
Aliss tore her glance away and suddenly feeling the need to know asked, “Once this is settled, you will take me home as promised?”
“Once all is settled—” He paused and shifted his glance to the tankard in his hand. “You will go home.”
Aliss had not realized she had held her breath nor had she expected his answer to disturb her. “I am eager to return and not so eager to return.”
Rogan raised a curious brow. “Tell me.”
“I must find a husband when I go back,” she admitted, though why she shared her problem with him she could not say. Perhaps it was her need to talk of it and that he was a generous listener.
“Why is that?”
“It has to do with a long-ago prophecy—” She knitted her brow. “Odd, that I cannot recall the exact prediction. I had heard it repeatedly and the only thing I can remember is, on a full moon twin babes are born, with their birth sounds the horn.” She shook her head. “I cannot remember the rest.”
“What has it to do with you having to wed?”
Aliss heard genuine curiosity in his voice. “It is something about the clans being in danger if my sister and I do not wed—I think.” She shrugged. “All I know is that according to the prophecy I must wed, the clans demand it.”
“Clans?”
“Hellewyk and my parents’ clan, Blackshaw.”
“Who will you wed?”
“I have no idea, though Tarr has left the decision to me.”
“I am sure you have not lacked for prospective bridegrooms.”
“Not at all,” she admitted.
“Any you favored?”
She shook her head. “Not a one.”
“What will you do?”