Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Once at the door, Auda grew misty-eyed again. “Hertha loved her pine wreath and would leave the door ajar a few minutes so the pine scent would drift inside the cottage.” She turned away for a moment and her misty eyes turned tearful. “That is Ruth’s cottage,” she said with a nod to a small cottage just off to the left. Hertha made sure to look after the old woman, seeing she had food to eat. She also took worn garments beyond repair and made several garments out of the one for bairns. The mums were…” She shook her head unable to continue. “I need to get the mixture made ready to brew for Flora. Will you be all right on your own here, my lady?”
Dawn nodded, patted her chest, and pointed at the door to let the healer know how grateful she was for bringing her here.
“You are far easier to understand than one would expect, my lady, and I am glad one of your husband’s warriors follows you around so that you are not snatched away like the others. Again, my lady, if you should need me, I am here to help.”
Dawn nodded, patted her chest again, and cast a glance around, spotting one of Cree’s warriors, easily recognizable from the others by the red and black clan plaid he wore. She nodded at the familiar warrior, Dermid. He had only recently joined the ranks of Cree’s warriors having proven himself on the practice field and in a several skirmishes. She gave him a nod before entering the cottage and saw that he stepped in front of the cottage as she closed the door.
She smiled thinking how well her husband knew her and had a warrior waiting to follow her, certain she would not stay put long. She entered the cottage and her smile faded when she glanced around the small room. The narrow bed and single table and chair all reminded her of the cottage she once occupied after her mum had died. The loneliness of that time flooded her with memories that rushed tears to her eyes. Old Mary and her best friend Lila had helped her through it, but it had been the nights when she and her mum would talk, that had been no more, that had made healing from her loss that more difficult. A partial smile returned to her face. Her mum would laugh and say she had talked enough and that it was time for sleep. Her mum always encouraged her gestures and sometimes would even use them herself. She also encouraged her to be observant so she could stay safe, since she had no voice to call out with if in trouble.
Dawn turned her attention on the room to observe it, comfortable with her safety thanks to her husband being vigilant in protecting her, she was surprised to find herself smiling after only a short time. Hertha may have lived alone but she lived contentedly here. She kept a neat home and Dawn could tell she kept herself busy with studying the plants since many hung from a drying rack. There was a basket with a scrap of cloth in it that had several bone needles stuck in it. Another scrap of wool cloth lay there as well, though did not appear large enough for anything to be made out of it. The bedding was clean, and the blanket folded neatly at the bottom.
She tilted her head and scrunched her brow. Hertha had not left her home in haste unless someone came and cleaned it after she had gone missing. She would need to ask Auda or perhaps Tavia would know.
Dawn smiled, thinking that Auda was right about Hertha—she had a pleasant nature. It could be felt in her home.
She stepped outside to find Dermid still standing not far from the door. He turned as she approached and stepped to the side to follow her. To make it easier on him, she pointed to Ruth’s cottage. He nodded and followed behind her.
Ruth’s cottage was about the same size as Hertha’s, but it was not as well kept. The bedding was rumpled, and a stitching basket held swatches of cloth with crude stitches running through them. She recalled Chieftain Newlin saying that Ruth was once a fine stitcher, but gnarled hands had robbed her of her skill. How frustrating for her to have lost the ability she was once so skillful at and had probably enjoyed doing.
A sudden smile brightened her face, thinking that Ruth probably had taught Hertha to stitch, and it had formed a bond between them. She imagined Ruth’s cottage had been far better kept before Hertha had gone missing.
She shook her head. The two women could not be more different. Why would anyone abduct them? With no signs of a struggle in either cottage, both women were either swept away unnoticed or they both were familiar with the person who abducted them and had gone willingly. That theory seemed to make more sense to Dawn. She would discuss it tonight with Cree, at supper so as not to disturb their plans later on.