dammit all, we’re on a deadline, we have to go save the world’s economy, I don’t have time for dallying along the way. Crap.
“I don’t feel any breaks,” he said after a moment. He took her left arm and stretched it out. “Does this hurt?”
“Angle’s a little awkward, but no.”
Wren’s voice intruded. “Foster caught the horse,” she said, from somewhere over Marguerite’s head. “Is she okay?”
“She’s doing fine,” said the healer.
“Hi, Wren,” said Marguerite. “I fell off my horse.”
“Yes, I saw. It was pretty spectacular. You did an amazing shoulder roll.”
“Did I?”
“Does this hurt?” Her left leg this time, though he wasn’t rubbing his hands over it the way he had her neck. Damn.
“Nope.”
“Yeah, it was really impressive,” Wren said.
“I bet. Is everyone else okay?”
“Oh, yeah, fine. You just got unlucky. The drover’s very sorry.”
“Does this hurt?” Right leg. He was coming up on the right side now. She rolled her eyes down to see if she could get a look at him, but the angle was still bad. Then he hit a sore spot and she hissed.
“Easy, easy…” He rolled up her trouser leg and those strong hands settled on her calf. “Here?”
“That’s the spot.”
He worked his way along the shin. Marguerite had not previously considered the erotic qualities of the human shin. Okay, yeah, that’s definitely the adrenaline. Nobody’s that into shins. Maybe I
can convince him to check a bit higher.
“No breaks that I can feel. You may have a bruise there.”
“How’s my horse?”
Wren shrugged. “Still a horse? I dunno. Foster says she’s fine too.”
“Oh, good.” And where exactly is Shane in all of this? Giving that dog a very stern look?
“I’m going to lift you up,” the healer said. “Tell me immediately if anything hurts, or if anything goes numb.” He got his hands under her armpits and picked her up. She helped as much as she could and found herself sitting upright with her back against his chest as he knelt behind her. “There you go,” he said. She could feel that voice rumbling against her back, a very agreeable sensation. “How is your head?”
“Sore, but I think I’m fine.” She looked ruefully at Wren. “Now where did Shane get off to? He’s supposed to be my damn bodyguard.”
Wren’s eyebrows shot up. The healer went very still.
Did I just put my foot in it?
“Errr…” said the healer. His voice was suddenly a little less deep and much less soothing. It sounded apologetic. More than that, it sounded familiar.
Fighting a sudden sinking realization, Marguerite wriggled around to see the man’s face.
One arm still around her shoulders, close enough to bite or kiss, Shane looked down into her eyes.
“WELL,” said Marguerite. “This is awkward.” She got hastily to her feet, slapping dirt off her backside. “I…ah…didn’t realize it was you.”
Shane inclined his head and said nothing, but his jaw was drawn so tight that she wondered if he was in pain.
“Must have still been a little dazed from the fall.” She swallowed, looking down at him. He was so tall and she was so short that the difference in their heights was actually rather less when he was kneeling. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have implied you were shirking your duties.”
“No,” said Shane. “No, you are correct. It is my place to keep you from harm, and I have already failed.”
Wren winced. Marguerite’s sinking feeling intensified. Oh god, only the third day on the road and I’ve already set off the paladin’s self-loathing. “What could you possibly have done? Leapt off your horse to break my fall? And I didn’t come to harm, so it’s fine.”
He rose to his feet. “I can only assure you that I will do everything in my power to keep it from happening again.”
“But this wasn’t really within your power.”
He turned away. Foster was holding the reins of her horse, looking as embarrassed as Marguerite felt. Wren looked from one to the other and sank her teeth into her lower lip.
“Welp, I’m an ass,” Marguerite said out loud, to no one in particular.
“You’d just been hit on the head,” said Wren. “I don’t think you can blame yourself for that.”
“If he’s going to blame himself for a dog spooking a cow, I get to blame myself for this.”
Wren snorted. Marguerite watched Shane take her mare’s reins and lead her back. How the hell did he do that anyway? He sounded like a different person! He sounded like…like…
Damn it all.
The paladin always sounded so diffident. He prefaced things with apologies, if he spoke at all.
She couldn’t believe that low, soothing, trustworthy voice came from the same man.
And then, like a bolt from the blue, she remembered Beartongue saying, “He can do the voice really well.”
Was that the voice? Is that what she meant? Gods above and below. If Grace could bottle that, we could make a fortune.
Shane brought the mare to her and dropped to one knee in front of her. Marguerite bit back a curse. If he’s going to go all knightly at me, this is going to be a really long trip. Then she saw that his hands were clasped to make a stirrup.
“Oh,” she said. “Thanks. It’s hard without a mounting block.” Shane nodded, staring at the ground.
When she stepped into his hand, he didn’t yield an inch.
He’s either angry at me or at himself or both of us. Damn, damn, damn. You were wrong, Grace, I may not be able to charm this one after all.
WHEN MARGUERITE HAD FALLEN from the saddle, time had slowed to a crawl. Shane had seen her fall, known that he could not possibly reach her in time, and everything had gone silent, except for the little voice that said, Failed already. It was only a matter of time, but this was quick even for you. You might as well just have kicked her down the stairs on the first day and saved everyone the ride back.
He was on the ground and throwing the reins to Foster before she had even stopped rolling. When he went to his knees beside her and saw that she was still breathing, it felt as if his heart had started beating again. Had he been granted a reprieve?
Oh good, a longer ride back for everyone when you inevitably fail to protect her. Do you think you can hit the exact midpoint of the journey next time?
He’d touched her then. He hadn’t meant anything by it, truly, beyond the fear that she had broken her neck. He’d used the paladin’s voice, because if she had injured herself, any sudden movement could make it worse. He’d seen it before, in the temple. Demons did not understand the fragility of human spines, and after one was exorcised, sometimes they left such injuries behind.
Fortunately the voice was the one thing that still came easily to him. You reached down into some deep internal well, and out it came, the voice of a brother, a confidant, a reliable friend. A voice that