The Warrior's Vow by Christina Rich

Author:Christina Rich
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

He wobbled farther away from her and winced as he raked his hand through his hair. His shadow no longer loomed over her. No longer granted her security. Abigail bit her tongue. She should not have mentioned Suph or Jesse’s current physical condition. For that was the exact moment he pulled away, shielded himself from her and turned to stone like the very rugged mountains on the horizon. The way he closed himself off from her, like those cedar doors gracing her bedchambers, caused an ache to form in her chest. The kind of ache that occurred whenever she craved her mother’s presence. The same kind of ache that closed in on her when she’d been locked in a box to teach her not to sneak out of her room.

That kind of ache brought tears. Tears brought ridicule and more pain. Holding her head high like the queen she was never meant to be, she stepped around Jesse and went in search of sustenance. Once she ensured he was on the mend, she would have Nathan and Jonathan take her to Jerusalem. Or maybe she would leave as soon as Jonathan returned, and maybe she would have them take her elsewhere. Someplace where Suph would never find her. Nor would Jesse, if he so chose to look for her. After all, Jesse said she could choose her destination. Her own future.

She skirted around a pen filled with sheep and swiped the tears trailing down her cheeks. She sat on a small log and stared off into the horizon. She did not need Jesse. Did not need his protection. Did not need him to discover the truth; nor did she need him to seek out his God.

“Abigail?”

She crossed her arms around her legs and rested her chin on top of her knees. “Leave me be, Jesse.”

“I did not mean to upset you.” He ignored her plea and sat beside her.

They remained in silence for long moments. His gaze warmed her. She wanted to look at him, to see the emotions swirling in his eyes. However, if she did, she knew she’d lose more of herself. To what, she did not know, for she did not understand the joy encompassing her whenever he was around. The joy of holding his hand. The need to be near him. Bilhah had said a man’s affections were not as easily given as a woman’s, but it seemed Jesse was more than willing to touch her hand, to soothe her wounds.

His fingers tangled in her hair and her stomach tumbled. How was it that a simple touch caused her such turmoil? She swiped at a wayward tear.

“Do not cry, Abigail. I beg of you, do not cry.” He curled his fingers around hers and pressed his mouth to the back of her hand. Shivers shook her at the intensity of the unknown emotion shining in Jesse’s eyes. Pulling her hand from his, she crossed her arms over her middle.

Another tear escaped, then another. She waited for him to laugh at her.

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