She cut, chopped, and kneaded, thinking of nothing but the task at hand. Her thoughts had been occupied of much lately, and she longed for time away from her problems.
She had just set a pan of apple buns on the wooden table to cool when a gentle knock sounded at the door.
Knowing it was senseless to think she could keep anyone out, she bid her guest enter. She was surprised to see that it was Honora.
“It smells heavenly in here,” Honora said, and smiled. “Forgive me, I forget my manners. I should have given you a greeting first.”
“That was the best greeting I have ever received,” Carissa said.
“It’s a truthful one.” Honora sniffed at the cooling apple buns. “If they smell this heavenly, I can only imagine how they taste.”
“Please sit,” Carissa said, pointing to a chair at the table. “I’ll heat some cider for us, and you can have a taste.”
“I certainly won’t turn down that invitation,” Honora said, and sat.
“If you don’t mind, I need to finish this bread while you visit,” Carissa said.
“Please do. I didn’t mean to interrupt, though I never expected to find you cooking.”
“It’s something I enjoy.”
Honora took a bite of the bun Carissa sat in front of her, and her eyes opened wide. Before she took another bite, she said, “And something you do with great talent.”
“Thank you,” Carissa said, “and forgive my bluntness, but why are you here?”
“I’ve experienced your bluntness firsthand,” Honora said.
Carissa nodded. “I remember when my father had you kidnapped and brought you to his stronghold.”
“I remember how coldhearted you appeared,” Honora said. “But what surprised me was when you first arrived here, it was as if I was seeing a different woman, and I began to remember more.”
Carissa continued kneading the bread.
“When food was brought to me, you always accompanied the slave who brought it and the platter was always full, much too full for a prisoner…and the food much too tasty. And you always managed to calm your father’s anger when he spoke with me, or more often redirected it to yourself.”
Carissa shrugged. “Those things mean nothing.”
“My husband would probably agree with you,” Honora admitted. “But there is one more thing that defies reason, as Artair would say. I had prayed and hoped to find a way to escape your father so that he could not use me as a pawn when my husband came to rescue me. I had all but given up, not being able to find any way out of your father’s stronghold, then…”
Carissa remained silent.
“Cavan arrived to lay siege to your father’s land and, while chaos erupted around me, I spied you on your horse taking a path I had never noticed before. It would have only been noticeable to one who knew it was there. I followed you and made my escape, and to my surprise, a horse waited along the path, which made my escape easier.”
“Why do you tell me this?”
“Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t luck that helped free me from your father—it was you.”
“No one would ever believe such nonsense,” Carissa said.
“I thought perhaps my husband would.”
“But he didn’t, did he?”
Carissa shook her head. “He recalls only pain when he thinks of you, and yet somehow I wonder about that too.”
“Your husband’s suffering and pain were real when held captive by my father.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Honora said sadly. “But I do wonder if perhaps you helped him, and possibly others, without any of them realizing it.”
Carissa punched the dough and gathered it up and slapped it down on the table. “I am who I am.”
“That’s the problem I have, Carissa,” Honora said softly. “Who are you?”
Carissa never got to answer Honora, who was summoned to the keep by her husband and, for once, Carissa was grateful for Cavan’s interference. Besides, how did she answer the question? She had spent far too many years protecting herself to suddenly begin to trust strangers. And to her, Honora was a stranger.
She sat on the chair she had moved near the hearth and watched the bread bake. Now that she was done cooking, her thoughts rushed forward, and she wished for a reprieve from them.
The heavens answered when another knock sounded, and this time it was Zia who entered, wearing a huge smile.
“Mind if a visit for a while?” she asked, and pulled a chair near the fire before Carissa could respond.
“I’m glad you’re here. It gives me a chance to thank you for all you’ve done for my men.”