Sorry I'm late in posting, but my power has been flickering like crazy. I had to wait out the storm.

Nine more chapters to go...

Chapter 55

Aramis awoke to the sound of a woman humming. The chickens clucked, the horses ate hay, and a rooster attempted to crow. He and Porthos had tossed their bedrolls to the ground and utilized the abundance of blankets that Eve and Clorette had brought them in addition to the warmed soup Eve, Millie, and the girls had cooked. Athos slept. During the night, he had turned onto his right side and slept with his back to the door. The blanket had been interwoven between his knees and covered his shoulders.

Porthos stretched while laying on his back and spread his toes wide. He groaned, yawned, and wiped the sleep out of his eyes. "Eve's milkin' 'er cow," he said and scratched at his belly, forcing his blouse upward.

"The rooster sounds like it's trying to drown," Aramis said, and pushed himself into a seated position. He rubbed his face, arched his neck, and scratched the back of his head. He stood with a low moan, walked to the bed and pressed his hand to Athos' forehead, and was quickly rewarded with a slap to his hand.

Athos grunted, covered his head, and went back to sleep.

Aramis shrugged, allowed his body to stretch, and said, "I need some air."

"It's the turnips," Porthos admitted. "They don't agree with me." He yawned and then stood.

Aramis groaned, slipped into his boots, and then opened the drape and tied it back. "Don't eat them next time."

"I was 'ungry." Porthos lay back and flopped his arms to his sides. He flexed the hand he had injured and was relieved that the swelling was nearly gone. "How's Athos?"

"Moody."

"Aramis," Porthos said with a look of concern. "How is he?"

Aramis nodded once and said, "He needs to sleep. It's the best thing for him right now."

Porthos exhaled in satisfaction.

Aramis stepped outside and looked at Eve with the side of her head pressed against the old cow she milked. Several cats cleaned their faces and licked their paws near the stool Eve sat on. The draft mare had been stabled and now paced and walked in slow circles around her stall, and the dog sat in the center of the yard looking at the barn while the hens pecked and scratched the dirt for grubs and worms.

It amazed him how quickly things returned to normal.

Aramis stepped outside and watched Emry harness his horses while he hobbled back and forth between them. He was in pain, but the work had to get done.

"Aramis?" Eve said, and stepped behind him.

Aramis turned and looked at her. He placed his hand on his hip and rubbed the back of his neck.

Eve smiled and pulled a note from the pocket of her apron and handed it to him. "Clorette meant to give it to you last night, but forgot." She smiled and adjusted the bucket of milk. "I think she was distracted."

Aramis smiled with a subtle nod. "Can I help you with that?"

"No. Little-miss is about to go dry and there is only a little milk this morning. How is Athos?"

"His fever is gone, but he's still sleeping."

"That's good… he needs the rest — the past few days have been difficult for him," Eve said and looked at her husband while he continued to ready the horses. "But men are not ones to take sound advice." She exhaled slowly. "I'll fix you something to eat… perhaps something a little more hearty than soup." She stepped past him and walked to the house. "Maybe something without turnips."

Aramis chuckled, looked at the note, and opened it. A leather necklace with a bear claw fell from the confines and a slice of parchment with two words scripted across the page. He picked up the necklace and then turned suddenly toward the house. "Did she say who gave this to her?" He called to Eve.

Eve turned and said, "A stranger in town…" she shrugged, "that's all she said."

Aramis nodded, winced, and then looked once more at the items. He glanced at Emry, who untied his horses and then slowly led them toward the fields. Aramis walked back to the barn and found Porthos sitting on the stool and slipping into his boots. He had tied his hair back with the cloth that wrapped around his head and fell in a twisted bundle along the back of his neck.

"Someone left us a message." Aramis handed the note to Porthos.

"Allier Parish?" Porthos shrugged. "Never 'eard of it." He pulled the necklace from the folds of the parchment and looked critically at the bear claw. "I'd 'ate to be on the end of that."

"The Parish is on the way to Paris," Aramis said.

"Maybe we can stop an' on our way back." Porthos handed the necklace and the note back and looked toward Athos. "When 'e's back on 'is feet." He stood, stretched his back once more, and listened to the popping of his shoulder joints. He walked to the exit and paused. "I'll be back."

Aramis folded the note and shoved it into his pocket. He took a seat on the stool and placed a firm hand on Athos' shoulder and gently shook him. "Athos?"

Athos muttered a few curses.

"How are you feeling and… how are your eyes?" Aramis tried to peer over Athos' shoulder. "Do you still have a headache?"

Athos exhaled slowly, but didn't move. Keeping his eyes closed, he took several deep breaths and then slowly rolled onto his back. He rubbed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "Your persistence is admirable, but unnecessary." He dropped his hand to his chest.

"Ah, now, Athos… you know how I feel about compliments." Aramis leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He cleared his throat and asked in a more serious tone, "How do you feel?" He winced and snapped his fingers and said, "Are you still in pain?"

Athos winced, furrowed his brow, and then covered his eyes with his hand and fluttered his eyelids. He inhaled sharply and then suddenly flipped back the blanket and sat up. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he leaned forward and grabbed the edge of the cot on either side of his thighs, and forced himself to slow his breathing.

"Athos?" Aramis said.

"I need a moment," Athos said. His eyes watered, his head ached, and he once again shielded his eyes.

Aramis stood, searched for a basin, and then grabbed an old bucket that sat by the door. He placed it on the ground between Athos' feet.

"Breathe… try to breathe through it."

"I'm not sick, Aramis," Athos said and pushed the bucket aside. "It's… it's bright in here," he said, and blinked faster when his eyes watered. He took several deep breaths and rubbed at his temple.

Aramis grabbed the blanket, stood on the bed, and covered the window. "How's that?" he asked. He stepped down and squatted in front of him. Aramis' heart raced in anticipation and he worked to contain himself, allowing Athos the time he needed.

Athos clenched his jaw and drew his eyebrows together. He wiped his lips and then cupped his forehead with the palm of his left hand. His eyes watered, causing thick, dark lashes to cling together. "Better," he said. He blinked slowly several times. Shapes, colors, variations of light, and shadows slowly emerged through the darkness, becoming more defined the more he blinked, and the calmer he became. He listened to Aramis shift, the impatience of his breathing, and the concern in his voice as he spoke, but wasn't heard. Athos felt a grip on his shoulder tighten.

"Athos?"

Athos nodded. "I'm all right." He rubbed his eyes and then blinked again several times. He looked up and met Aramis' eyes. With a quirk to his mouth, he said, "It's good to see you."

Aramis smiled. He looked away for a moment, pressed his cheek to his shoulder with a clenched jaw and worked to control his breathing. The expectations of what might happen suddenly disappeard. Gone were the what ifs, the terrible thoughts of loss and changes. Aramis collected his breath, cupped the back of Athos' neck, and pulled him into an embrace.