“William pleaded with me to move to the New World and make a life beside the magic fountain. I panicked. I was convinced the water was cursed and I refused to take my young daughter across the ocean where we would live in danger and poverty. William became outraged with me, threatening me, frightening me.
“So I stole their jugs of water, trying to protect William and Francis from themselves.” She took another heavy breath. “Addiction is a dangerous thing. It can turn a sane man mad and a loving man evil. William’s body began to suffer great pains without the water and he became a monster. He threatened my life, demanding the water be returned to him if I wanted to live. And then he threatened Scarlet’s life….
Ana swallowed. “I gave the water back to him and Francis and left William, stealing Scarlet away into the night.” She paused, touching a hand to a silver broach she wore pinned to her dress. “Scarlet was only thirteen when we fled. We have been hiding in the eastern woods ever since.”
Tristan sat back.
They had run away from a dangerous man; two women risking their lives in the unforgiving forest to build themselves a home that was worth fighting for.
He looked at Scarlet. “Was that frightening?”
Scarlet kept her eyes on her food. “No. I was well-trained in archery and fencing by that time, and I knew plenty about hunting and gardening. The forest was not frightening.”
Tristan tucked his lips in. “I meant, was it frightening to leave your father?”
Scarlet looked at him with vulnerable eyes and, for a brief second, she was just a girl in the woods.
Not a huntress. Not a fighter.
Just a girl.
Scarlet softly said, “Not as frightening as it would have been had we stayed with him.” She looked back down at her food.
Ana lowered her eyes as well and the table sat in silence.
Looking around the hut, Tristan was filled with admiration for their hard work. The hut was simple, but clean and efficient. They had no adornments, no fancy pieces of furniture. Their walls were thin and bare and the single room they shared was but a mat on the dirt floor. The roof was solid but wearing through at some places and the garden out front was healthy, yet meager.
They had survived out here, hiding in the trees and living as fugitives, for years without help, protecting and providing for one another.
They had little, yet asked for nothing.
They finished eating silence. After the meal, Tristan rose from the table, kissed Ana on the cheek, and made his way to the yard with Scarlet at his side.
“Why do you continue to visit us?” Scarlet’s eyes were curious.
Tristan smiled. “I enjoy your company.”
She eyed him. “You have plenty of company in your court, I’m sure. The company of beautiful women with fine dresses and real homes, no doubt.”
He smiled. “Ah, but I prefer the company of a young woman with archery skills and a sharp tongue.”
She looked at the ground. “Your care is wasted on me.”
He placed a gentle finger below her chin and tilted her head up. “My care is not wasted. You are the best part of my day and what I look forward to when I’m gone.”
Scarlet looked into his eyes. “If you continue coming here, you are a fool.”
He smiled again. “Then call me a fool.”
21
After school, Scarlet drove straight to the cabin eager to know what Nate wanted to see her about. The winter days were growing shorter and the sun hung low in the sky by the time she pulled down the cabin’s dirt driveway.
For the first time since meeting the Archer brothers, Scarlet wondered about the cabin. When had Tristan designed it? When had it been built? And why was it in the middle of nowhere?
The cabin was outside of the Avalon city limits and surrounded by acres and acres of raw forest land. Large. Isolated. And quiet.
Just like its designer.
Scarlet parked and walked up the porch steps, knocking on the front door.
When the door pulled open, she expected to see Nate standing before her with a goofy smile. But instead she saw Tristan.
Wearing a black T-shirt that hung on his muscles in an all-too-alluring way and a shadow of stubble along his jaw, Tristan looked dark and forbidden.
Which he was. In more ways than one.
He didn’t invite her in. He stood in the doorway; one hand on the door, the other on the doorframe, blocking her view of the cabin’s interior. “Gabriel’s not here.”
He wasn’t the king of friendly greetings.
Tristan’s eyes roved up and down Scarlet’s face, stroking her cheeks and lips.
She absently felt him.
Love…sadness….
Feeling Tristan’s emotions was becoming a bad habit Scarlet really needed to kick. Or strangle. Or make out with.
Agh.
“I know.” Scarlet willed herself not to like the way his eyes drifted down to her neck and across her collarbone. “I came to see Nate.”
Possession…desire….
Scarlet swallowed and tried to pull herself out of Tristan’s feelings. “Can I come in, or what?”
For a moment, their eyes locked and Scarlet wondered what it would be like to touch Tristan’s face.
His eyes went heavy.
“Nate!” Tristan called, as he yanked his eyes away from Scarlet and pushed back from the door. Leaving it ajar, he turned and headed for the living room.
He was the worst doorman ever.
Hottest, maybe. But worst.
Scarlet walked inside and shut the door behind her. For a moment, it was just she and Tristan, standing as far away from one another as possible on the cabin’s main floor.
Tick…tick…tick….
The big clock above the fireplace seemed extra loud today.
Tristan started making his way toward the long dark hallway.
“Why do you do that?” Scarlet asked. “Why do you always run away from me?”
Turning around, Tristan looked at her. “I don’t run away. I exit.”
“Why?” Scarlet didn’t know why she was picking a fight. “Are you afraid of me?”
Tristan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m trying not to kill you. Remember?”
Scarlet narrowed her eyes. “So you’re running away to your basement? Because an extra hundred feet of separation will keep me alive longer?”
“No. I’m walking to the basement so Gabriel doesn’t throw a fit about me being near you.”
Scarlet took a step toward Tristan. There was still an entire living room between them. “Is that a rule now? You can’t be close to me?”
“I wouldn’t call it a rule.”