Part 3 Rain

It was a cool, dreary summer. The rains came late and then they never stopped. Hay rotted in the fields, crops drowned except in the highest fields and the farmers shook their heads over the poor harvest to come and prophesized a lean hungry winter. My kitchen garden failed, like everyone's, but nature's bounty was largely unaffected, and Daeghun and I gathered wild plants and hunted both to stock our own larder and to share with our neighbors. Meat and fish had to be smoked or salted—there was no sun to dry it—and everything had to be watched carefully for mold.

Daeghun worked me brutally hard all summer. The work needed to be done, yes, but many villagers were willing to help, if he had only asked. This was his way of keeping me and Lorne separated. I still didn't understand why he had taken such a dislike of Lorne. All he would say is that those of Starling blood were not to be depended on. It was true that Lorne's father had deserted his family and there were all kinds of rumors about what had become of him, but how could Lorne be blamed for that? Retta was certainly well-respected in the community, after all. More likely, my father was still brooding over something that had happened three or four generations back. Elves. Gotta love them.

I was so tired of wet hair, wet clothes, wet boots and wet skies. Brother Merring would have said that the dawn comes whether you see it or not, but oh, Lathander, I longed to see the sun again.

Still, we couldn't hunt all the time. The paths were too wet for any kind of wagon or cart, so everything we killed or gathered had to be packed out on our backs. We would go out for a few days, return back to the house with what we had found, prepare it for storage, and then return to the Mere.

This last trip, the swamp cabbages were finally at their pungent peak of ripeness and we had gathered as many as we could carry. There's nothing like staggering through the mud all day under an ill-balanced load of stinking greens with the rain dripping into your eyes to make you happy to see your home at last. Daeghun started a fire in the fireplace—oh, joy, a fire at last. We set out our weapons and boots to dry. I had done every single thing Daeghun asked me for weeks and weeks now but I was not going to spend another afternoon oiling my leather and cleaning my weapons and then fall into my bed exhausted. I fetched my spare boots and my spare cloak from its hook by the door.

"Where are you going?" Daeghun asked but he knew, of course.

"I'm taking some of these cabbages to the Starling farm," I said. He gave me a rather sour nod.

Retta jumped up and gave me a big hug when I came dripping into her kitchen.

"Oh, my dear, you look so tired and thin," she exclaimed. I waved this off.

"I hope you like swamp cabbages," I said and dropped the bag by the door. "I know they're not to everyone's taste but they are quite wholesome."

"Bless you, Rose, I was just thinking that we needed more greens or we all would be sick this winter. Do you think I can just pack them in straw, or should I salt them?"

"If you have the salt, that would be best, I think."

She hugged me again.

"I've missed you but I know someone who is missing you more. The boys are in the smokehouse. We had to slaughter another one of the cows, poor old thing." Most of the farmers were culling their herds now so the cattle wouldn't starve later. She gave me a sly smile. "Why don't you go tell Bevil to come help me with these cabbages."

The smokehouse was set far back from the house and barn in case of fire. Lorne and Bevil had butchered the cow, and were cutting it up to be smoked. They had stripped down to their breeches and their bare chests gleamed with sweat. The smell of blood was strong and they were both splattered with it.

"Hey, Rose!" Bevil said. "Where have you been all this time? Avoiding my big brother?"

"Hunting." Lorne didn't say anything at all but he drank me down with his eyes. I wondered if my eyes looked as hungry.

"Actually, Bevil, your mom told me she needs you in the kitchen." Lorne drew a bucket of water from the barrel by the smokestack and washed off the blood. Clean water ran down his muscular arms, trickled down his broad chest. I couldn't help but stare. I felt a flush start on my cheeks.

"I think I should stay and chaperone you two," Bevil teased but I laughed and shoved him out into the rain.

Lorne held open his arms and I walked into them. I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest.

"This is nice," I said, after a while.

"You're wet," he said, after a while.

"It's raining."

Later, I said, "You know, Lorne, this is not a very romantic spot."

"You're right about that. Come with me." We dashed for the barn and I followed Lorne up into the loft. He spread my cloak on the hay and gestured for me to sit. We pulled off our wet boots and he rubbed my feet. I sighed and lay back on the cloak. No one had ever rubbed my feet before.

"Poor darling, are you very tired?"

I'd been raised practically from birth not to complain.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Little liar. I think you should take this wet tunic off."

"Okay." The rain pattered down on the roof. It was relaxing. He helped me strip down to my thin undershirt. I lay on the cloak and those big, warm hands rubbed all the stiffness and soreness out of my back and shoulders. I rolled on my side and looked up at him through my lashes.

"I'm thinking you could pretty much have your way with me now, if you wished, and I wouldn't object," I said with a slow smile. He stretched out beside me and toyed with a lock of my hair, which was finally almost dry.

"I like the sound of that." I loved the sound of his deep, lazy voice. Like the rain, like the touch of his hand, it soothed me.

"Mmm."

"So does this mean that you are going to marry me?" he asked.

"Mmm."

"Is that a yes?" His fingers caressed a line along my neck, my shoulder.

"Not capable of coherent thought," I murmured. "Ask later." I shivered as his hand stroked along my side and found bare flesh where my shirt had hiked up.

"Later," he breathed into my ear, "You will be asleep."