She still wondered how it was that they had so easily and quickly fallen in love and how it had seemed to endure even through separation and supposed death. Ronan hadn’t stopped loving Hope even though he had believed her dead. It seemed that he loved her even more.
And she hadn’t stopped loving him. She had no idea where their love had been born, but somehow it had been given life, and she so badly wanted to see it continue to live and grow strong.
She got a sudden chill, and she realized that the tingle from Ronan’s kiss had dissipated, and she missed it. She missed him, and she wondered how she would ever live life without him.
Hope.
There truly was none for her, but there was Hope herself. If she could find the courage to let Hope live. But then, for that to happen, Carissa had to die. They both could not survive together. Only one could stay, the other had to go. And though she might be tired of Carissa, it was due to her strength and courage that she had survived. How then did she deny her?
She remained by the fire until Ronan returned, then she got busy preparing the stew while he once again joined her at the table.
“Bethane will be happy to join us,” he said with a grin. “I boasted about your cooking.”
“I’m not that good a cook.”
“No, you are a great cook. I’ve never tasted such flavorful food.”
Never had anyone ever boasted about anything Carissa had done, and that he took such pride in her skill touched her heart. But hadn’t Ula told her that preparing a good meal could bring peace to the heart?
And right now, at this very moment, she felt at peace. Although she knew this was a rare moment, and more than likely she would never experience something like this again, she would enjoy it and cherish it and keep it strong in her memory.
“Tell me of your brothers,” she said.
While she cut the potatoes, Ronan regaled her with stories of when he was young, and they both laughed at the antics of his youth. And the pleasant day continued when Bethane joined them hours later.
It turned into a pleasant evening among friends, and Carissa was grateful for it. She had always known that life was far different than she had lived it, though her father tried to convince her otherwise.
Bethane left sooner than Carissa would have liked, but the older woman insisted that Carissa still needed to rest. Though the fever was gone, she needed to regain her full strength.
Ronan agreed, and once Bethane was out the door, he ordered her to bed.
She was about to disagree when a yawn advised the same. Reluctantly, she retired to her sleeping quarters, Ronan promising to be close behind after he added more logs to the hearth and grabbed a couple to add to the small hearth in the other room.
She changed into her wool nightshift, grateful Ronan had brought her clothes with them, and climbed into bed, snuggling under the warm covers. She wished Ronan would join her. She missed him in her bed. There were times when they had shared a bed that she would wake and be in his arms. She would lie still and enjoy his warm embrace. She had gotten used to his being there and disliked the empty place beside her.
Ronan entered, and she watched him add dry logs that the flames quickly sparked to life. He stood and slipped off his shirt as he walked toward the bed. Could he be thinking of joining her? How she hoped he would. She would love to rest her head on his chest and sleep in his arms.
“You’re all set?’ he asked.
“I’m fine,” she lied. And wished she could tell him she wanted him to sleep with her, but if she did, he would think her to be Carissa and wanting sex, when she simply wanted him beside her.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of making love with him, even if only for one night, but at the moment it was him beside her that she wanted the most.
“If you need me—”
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
He nodded and turned away without another word, disappearing behind the curtain to the small sleeping nook.
Ronan woke out of a sound sleep and shot up in bed. Had he heard something? He listened, but only silence greeted him. He dropped back on the bed. He turned on his side and punched the pillow a few times while trying to find a comfortable position.
Damn if he didn’t miss sleeping with Carissa.
He had gotten used to her body next to his, the familiar scent of apples drifting off her, the way she would snuggle next to him almost as if she couldn’t get close enough. But he hadn’t realized that until now…until he began to see Carissa differently.
He sprang up again.
This time he was sure he heard something. He got out of bed, disregarded his nakedness, pushed the curtain aside, and walked over to her bed. She tossed in her sleep, a groan escaping now and then. She was obviously in the throes of a bad dream.