twelve

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Numair asked for what must have been the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes.

Daine turned to him, glaring. "Well, if you're so sure it's not a good idea, then don't come."

Numair hesitated, and Daine felt a touch of guilt at her abruptness.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready to ride in the wilderness," Numair said, waving his hand to signal the surrounding hills and forests and mountains.

"It's hardly the wilderness, Numair," Daine said calmly, tying a saddlebag onto Cloud's saddle. "It's a four hour ride to a campsite which is closer to civilisation than we are at the house where you've been riding for the last three weeks."

"Yes," Numair agreed, absently tightening the girth around Spots, "but I've been riding with a nice sturdy fence around me. What happens if something goes wrong?"

Daine rolled her eyes. "Numair, Spots is as likely to bolt as you are to stop complaining. Now make up your mind; I wouldn't say you could do it if I didn't think you could."

Still looking uncertain, Numair finished fastening the girth and turned to the saddle bags hung over the fence. Daine was relieved to see the stubborn determination settle on his face; he'd ride with them, doubtlessly complaining the entire way there and the entire way back. She wasn't sure why she was so happy he was going with them, or why he came if he was determined to complain, but she wasn't willing to analyse the conflicting thoughts any closer than simply acknowledging they existed (which, she thought, was giving them too much consideration anyway).

"How are you going?" Onua asked from the fence.

"I've got Cloud ready," Daine said. "I'm about to get Trickster ready, and then we're good to go."

"Good," Onua said happily. "Numair, when you've finished with Spots I need you to carry the packs down from the house.

Numair opened his mouth to complain, but Cloud took the opportunity to nip at his elbow, eliciting a yelp of indignition from the man.

"Your pony is too clever for her own good, Daine, and much too unruly."

Daine patted Cloud's neck as Onua disappeared up the path chuckling. "No, Numair, I think she did just fine."

---

The weather was everything they could have asked for and more for a trek down to the campsite. Overhead the sun shone brightly, warming up the world.

"We should make it there before eleven," Onua said from the front of their small procession. "Hopefully we'll beat Sarge and Stefan there."

Daine had been working for Onua for just over three weeks now, and she still hadn't met the two men whom Onua spoke of frequently and fondly. They were busy this time of year, Onua explained when Daine asked one night why they hadn't been to visit, but when the camps started they were frequent visitors to Onua's home. Daine had nodded and said nothing more, wondering if there was perhaps any romantic interest between Onua and either of the two men. Of course, Daine was self-preservant enough not to raise the subject, though she had shared a conspiring glance with Numair.

Numair. She looked at him now, still horribly awkward in the saddle with his limbs as stiff as the trunks on a tree. Poor Spots looked as long-suffering as ever when Numair was on his back, but the gelding didn't complain or fidget the way a less well behaved horse would have.

She was proud of Numair, Daine thought to herself. For the last three weeks he had been making an immense effort to assist Onua and not make a nuisance of himself. His cooking had improved very little since his first attempt, but Daine had been pleased to note a small gleam of affection and apprectiation for his efforts, even if the women never said anything to acknowledge them. Not to mention the effort he put into his riding skills.

Numair had also, much to Daine's amusement, convinced Onua to invest in two peacocks. He'd been absolutely thrilled by their fanciful feathers and colourful displays, until one of them took an intense disliking to one of his fingers. Onua had tried to warn Numair that peacocks were proud and arrogant, and while Numair's affection for the birds had definitely cooled, he refused to admit that Onua was right.

Daine smiled as they rode toward the campsite, feeling as free as a bird. Life was good, she thought, studying her companions. In their own way, both of them were as dear to her as Cloud and her family had been. Daine didn't dwell on the fact or want to consider that Numair wasn't going to be around for much longer.

Two months, Onua had said he was staying for. Two months. And one of them was almost over already.

Daine didn't like the small stab of something that hurt when she thought about him leaving, so she decided it was better not to think about that at all.

---

The campsite was more overgrown than Daine remembered it, but she supposed a good spring would do that to a perfect valley. They unsaddled the horses and picketed them in a flat clearing with thick grass next to the stream.

"We need to fix the corral first," Onua had said, pointing at the still broken fence when Numair questioned why they were 'tying the horses up'.

Onua showed both Numair and Daine how to set up the tents – Daine had never been camping before, and when Onua mentioned the word 'tents' in line with 'camping' Numair had looked like he might pass out with horror. They had lit a campfire and Onua was showing Daine how to build a small table out of wooden poles when two riders appeared from the south.

"Sarge and Stefan," Onua said with satisfaction as a piercing whistle shattered the stillness in the air. Onua's mare pricked her ears forward at the whistle and neighed loudly, obviously recognising the approaching horses as friends.

Daine watched them curiously as they approached; a large black man on an equally dark and large horse, accompanied by an older, weathered man on a light brown mount.

"Well now," boomed the dark man as he drew his horse – a gelding, Daine saw, so dark it was almost black - to a halt, "just in time for a hot drink, I see!"

"You haven't even done anything to earn your coffee yet, Sarge," Onua said dryly.

"Sarge skipped his morning brew," the older man said – Daine guessed he was Stefan. "Was so excited about your coffee, Onua, he told me we didn't need to make any."

"He's lying," Sarge said cheerily, dismounting. "What happened to the corral, Onua?"

"That mare I was telling you about, the one Jonathan's daughter might like, she happened."

Sarge grinned. "The lively one?"

"The lively one," Onua confirmed blandly. "Come on, let's get you men your coffee so you can start the work."

---

Sarge was a large man, bigger even than Numair. Daine decided that he had a temperment of steel, but it was offset nicely by a good sense of humour and a cheery glint in his eye. She thought she wouldn't like to get on his bad side. Ever.

Stefan, on the other hand, was quiet. The horses and ponies, even Cloud, nuzzled him affectionately and sought treats in his pockets. Daine liked the look of his winkled face and the calmness in his eyes. He made her think of an old English Clydesdale, steady as a rock and gentle as a lamb.

Both men were initially suspicious of Numair, and Daine couldn't help but think it was somehow related to Onua's apparent distrust of him. Why Onua still failed to accept Numair as a good person continued to baffle Daine, but she imagined it might have something to do with a marriage Onua refused to talk about. It was possible, Daine mused as she worked alongside Stefan repairing the corral, that the two men knew what had hurt Onua in the past, and were more wary for her sake than any real distrust of Numair.

Daine made the mistake of looking over at Numair, and to her horror she felt a blush staining her cheeks. She looked away quickly, focusing her attention back on the wood she was supposed to be holding steady. Sometime during the course of their morning's labour, Numair had decided to follow Sarge's lead and take off his shirt.

For some reason, Daine could look at Sarge without his shirt on and not react in anyway at all. His torso was well muscled, but Daine had seen well muscled male torso's before, and didn't find it at all uncomfortable or difficult to deal with.

Numair's body, on the other hand, was causing her a great deal of problems. It was tanned a light golden brown, or maybe it was just the natural dark colouring of his skin that made it looked so sunkissed. The muscles she had before written off as being from regular gym workouts had somehow, in the course of three weeks helping Onua carting and dragging and man-handling, turned into something more than just sculpture.

Daine snuck another look, noticing his skin was gleaming with sweat as he helped Sarge battle with an axe and a spade to try and dislodge a fallen tree. Her heart sped up unnaturally in her breast, and suddenly it felt difficult to breath.

"Steady," Stefan murmured, "I can't hit the nail if you keep moving the wood, Daine."

His face, when she looked away from Numair to apologise, was bland and unaccusing. Daine had the distinct and unsettling impression that he knew exactly what sort of bad thoughts were running through her mind at the sight of Numair without a shirt on, and she didn't like it at all. She snuck another look at Numair, trying to convince herself she just wanted to see how he and Sarge were progressing with their work, rather than to stare at the way his muscles moved when he swung the axe. He had a really, really nice set of shoulders, Daine thought dreamily.

Numair was too old for her, Daine reminded herself sternly, forcing herself to concentrate on the wood in her hands. Much too old for her. And he was leaving. Anyway, it wasn't as though she liked him like that. He was a friend. A really good friend that smelt really nice and looked even better. He was only a friend.

But she couldn't seem to stop herself from sneaking another look.

Just a friend. Right.

---

Late afternoon and Daine was exhausted. She didn't think she'd ever worked this hard in her life, and her protesting body definitely agreed with her. And it was hot. What had started off as a lovely late spring day with sunshine and a breeze had turned into a stinking hot day that really belonged somewhere in the middle of summer, not anywhere near spring.

"We did a lot this morning," Onua said, stifling a yawn. "I think we can take the rest of the day off."

"Good," Daine heard Numair say. "I was going to take it off anyway, but it's nice to have permission."

Onua snorted in amusement, and Daine felt a smile twitch her lazy lips into a barely there smile. "You don't usually care about things like permission," she pointed out.

"I'm working on improving my character," Numair retorted lazily.

"I think I need to cool down," Sarge said before Daine could insert a smart comment. "It is too hot to even think about work. How about a swim?"

Daine, lying on her back in the grass, turned to look at the rest of the small group all lazing around the campsite in various positions of relaxation.

"I'm not," Onua said, yawning again. "I am going to take a nice, long nap. Wake me when dinner is ready," she added imperiuosly.

"We do all this work for her, and she can't even cook us dinner," Sarge said mournfully, dragging himself to his feet. "Daine? You look like you could do with a swim."

The stream, Daine had discovered earlier, fed into a large pool not too much further down the valley. Onua had admitted to helping nature a little with a touch creative landscaping, and the result was a natural swimming hole complete with the tiny trickle of a waterfall and large rocks which were perfect for sunbaking on. Paradise, Daine thought again as she pictured the area.

"Well?" Sarge said, prodding her with his foot.

"I don't want to move," Daine said lazily, pushing his foot away. "I'm tired and lazy and ready for a nap."

"Daine Sarrasri is going to have a nap?" Numair said disbelievingly.

"It's not like you'd go swimming in a slime-filled pond with frogs and fish," Daine retorted, glancing over at Numair. The damn man still hadn't put his shirt on, she thought with a mixture of pleasure at the sight and disgust at herself for enjoying the sight.

"I think a swim sounds good," Numair disagreed, climbing gracefully to his feet. He was graceful now, Daine thought absently, but doubtlessly when he was younger he was all arms and legs and clumsiness.

"You'd no more get in than drink out of the same mug twice without rinsing it," remarked Daine, closing her eyes.

"I think you need a swim," Numair said.

"No, I need a nap."

Sarge and Numair seemed to accept her decision, and Daine almost purred with satisfaction. The shade was lovely and the grass was unbelievably soft. The perfect spot for-

Daine squealed with shock as she ws suddenly wrenched from her comfortable position by two pairs of strong arms. "Put me down!" she demanded as Sarge helped Numair sling her over his shoulders. "Numair, no!"

The skin of his back was deliciously warm against her hands when she tried to push herself out of his hold, but his hands were securely wrapped around her waist. Really, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes there wasn't much she could do unless she really wanted to hurt with kicking. And as annoyed and irritated as she was, Daine didn't really want to hurt him.

"Put me down," she ordered again, trying not to notice the muscles of his back under her hands. "Numair!"

"Okay," he said agreeably.

Two seconds later Daine was spluttering in the icy cold water of the pool, trying to pull her hair out of her eyes. "I cannot believe you did that!" she gasped, struggling to her feet in the shallows.

"You need a swim," Sarge said, grinning wickedly.

"My clothes didn't," she pointed out grumpily. She had to admit though, the water was lovely and cool against the heat of the day. "And I don't see you dumping Onua either."

"Onua would kick my ass," Sarge said simply, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his jeans to reveal a set of swimmers. "Besides, I always swim here."

Numair wasn't as well prepared as Sarge, but he was game. Daine tried not to watch as he pulled off his jeans to reveal a pair of plain black boxers. Instead, she contemplated her own clothing.

She decided that if it was okay for the men to strip, it was okay for her. She struggled with her wet boots and socks, and then fought with the denim of her jeans. T shirt, bra and panties were fine, she thought, lobbing her jeans onto a rock where she hoped they'd dry a little, but she wasn't quite game enough to go in any less.

"You see?" Sarge asked, self satisfied. "You did need a swim."

Daine splashed him, and ducked under the water swimming away from him. He retaliated, swimming after her and splashing her as she surfaced. Daine squealed and attacked again, laughing as the water flew through the air and birds in the surrounding trees scolded them loudly.

"Come on, Numair!" Sarge yelled, "I need back up!"

Daine turned to look at Numair who was still standing on shore, suddenly looking doubtful. "Are you sure it's safe?" he asked warily.

"Odds bobs, Numair!" Daine yelled. "You better damn get in so I can splash you for dunking me, or you won't live to regret another day!"

"I can always help you in, Numair," Sarge added wickedly, winking at Daine.

"I'm in, I'm in!" Numair yelled back. His face screwed up with disgust as he stepped into the pool. The water, only up to his ankles, was icy cold and he winced theatrically. "Urgh!"

"Come on in, Numair," Daine called him, "before we help you in!"

Sarge was tired of waiting, apparently, and sent a large splash of water straight at Numair, soaking him.

For a second, Daine thought Numair was upset, but in a flash the look turned to a grin and he literally dove forward to try and dunk Sarge beneath the cold water.

They splashed around happily for a while, laughing and dunking each other. Daine tired of it soon though, and decided she'd rather float on her back and stare at the clouds through the leafy canopy of the overhead trees. The water was silky where it touched her skin, and cool. It contrasted starkly against the roughness of her wet T shirt as it tangled around her, following gentle eddies and currents in the water.

"I've had enough," Sarge said at last.

"Old man," Daine accused him lazily, thinking she could possibly fall asleep floating in the water like this.

"Sane man," Sarge disagreed. "I need my coffee and then I'm going to have a nap too."

Daine stared up at the sky, wondering at the silence and whether Numair was still in the pond.

"You think he likes her?" Numair asked suddenly, answering her unspoken question. She was surprised to see him floating nearby, also staring up at the sky.

"I think so," Daine said, thinking of Onua and the smile on her face when she looked at Sarge. "I don't think they realise it yet."

"I think they do," Numair disagreed. "I think they don't want to acknowledge it."

"Why wouldn't they?" Daine asked bluntly. "Being in love isn't a bad thing, Numair."

"They've got a good friendship," Numair countered. "Maybe they don't want to risk that."

Daine was silent, considering his words. "What would you do?" she asked.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," she said, smiling. "If you loved someone you were friends with, but didn't want to risk the friendship. What would you do?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't think I believe in love."

"You don't believe in love?" she asked doubtfully. "Everyone believes in love, Numair."

He sighed. "I don't. Not for me, anyway."

She wasn't sure she believe him, but she let it go. She knew Numair well enough by now to know when to argue and when to relent.

"What about you?" he asked.

If she loved Numair, she thought idly, she'd be scared to tell him. He was older than her, and from a different life. He was rich, with parties and sophisticated women and education. She was just a girl who liked horses. "Maybe you're right," she said. "Maybe some things are better kept secret."

There was no answer, and Daine looked around again to see where Numair had gone. There was no sign of him, but a second later a hand fastened around her ankle and pulled her under.

She came up spluttering, glaring when she caught sight of him laughing as he backpedalled toward the shore. "Got you!" he crowed happily.

She set off after him, happy to ignore the sudden turn her thoughts had taken, splashing and shrieking loudly as she gave chase. He was almost out of the water by the time she caught up, and she raced after him, determined to dunk him.

Daine didn't plan on his foot slipping as he raced out of the pool. She lunged forward, half thinking she could stop him falling, but momentum was against them and they thudded to the muddy bank together, grunting as they struck the ground.

"Oh, God," Numair groaned, "that hurt."

"Sorry," she gasped, trying to push herself upright.

Somehow, in their tangling of limbs during the fall, she'd ended up on top of him. Her face was breathlessly close to his; his body warm and wet beneath hers. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry as she gazed into his eyes.

"Daine," he whispered, and she felt his breath on her lips as his fingers curled in the hair at the nape of her neck. Close, she thought, he was so close to her she could feel the thundering of his heart against her breast and see the golden flecks in his eyes as he moved closer and closer-

"Daine! Numair! Coffee's ready!"

She jerked away from him and clambered off of him as though he burnt her.

"Coming," she yelled back.

She avoided his gaze as she gathered her wet jeans and struggled into them. Neither of them spoke or looked at the other as they made their way back to the campsite where Sarge was waiting with coffee and the horses were grazing.

---

Nice long chapter because I haven't updated for a while ;) I'm having a hard time with exams at the moment though, so I apologize for updating infrequently. Please review, because your comments cheer me up and I need something good to make the exams a little more bearable!

So please, review? Just for me!