Spoken For by Briar Emma

Author:Briar, Emma [Briar, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-08-28T07:00:00+00:00

21

AFTER BREAKFAST, ROMAN suggests a walk.

I’m still shattered, and a little sore between the legs from this morning’s rough pounding, but a walk sounds marvellous. I could certainly do with some exercise outside the bedroom.

I nip upstairs to grab my coat, gloves and fur-lined boots.

When I meet Roman at the side entrance, my eyes go to the backpack slung over his shoulder. My enthusiasm wavers. “A hike?”

“Come on,” he chuckles, “it’s only twenty minutes and well worth it.”

We walk through the pine forest past the distillery outbuildings and then wind our way through a narrow crevice cut into the mountains. The air is crisp and I breathe in deeply, feeling thoroughly alive.

Roman doesn’t say much, but there’s no silence to fill. We’re lost in the beauty of the mountains and our thoughts, walking single file along the narrow path.

I don’t know what I’m doing with Roman, what’s happening here, but I do know that I’m at peace.

I haven’t felt this content, restful, for many years.

Maybe it’s a form of statis that cannot last, and that’s okay as well.

I don’t expect to find forever in Roman’s arms, but I think I’m finally starting to find myself.

The crevice spits us out onto the most magnificent vista. We haven’t been climbing, but Kleighnorm sits high in its own mountain and below us nestles a vast lake glittering in the morning sunlight. Thick forest packs up against the shore on one side and shelves of grey rock slide into the water on the other side.

Roman takes my hand to help me over the series of boulders as we descend to the rocky side.

“This is stunning,” I gasp when we stop at the bottom, my gaze absorbing our surroundings.

Roman nods.

The wind tugs at his hair, sweeping long strands over his chiselled face as he turns to look at me, his smile creasing into his eyes. “Connor showed me this place the first time I came to stay with him and Jean.”

For a moment, I see the vulnerability inside him.

I see the seven year old boy thrown into the world alone.

I understand a small part of him.

“This was your favourite spot as a child, wasn’t it?” I say, imagining the hours he spent here in the magnificent solitude.

“Still is.” He slings his backpack from his shoulder and settles down on a rock shelf, one leg stretched out, his other knee bent.

I sit beside him cross-legged, watching as he unpacks a flask and two mugs. “The rose tattoo on your arm… That’s your family, your parents and your sister?”

“My sister… Madeline, was eight years older than me.” He pours the coffee as he speaks and hands me a mug. “My fifteenth birthday hit me hard. From then on, I’d be older than she would ever be.” He rubs his arm as he turns his gaze on the lake. “That’s when I got the tattoo.”

“What happened?” I ask quietly. “How did…?”

It’s not simple curiosity.

It’s a yearning deep inside me to know him more, more fully.

He sips from his mug, looking out over the lake.

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