N. Walters - Fabric of Fate

She finished the tea and thanked Tara. “May I?” The housekeeper was older than Audrey and there was wisdom and knowledge in her eyes.

“Sure.” Audrey had no idea what the other woman wanted to do but didn’t see any harm in letting Tara touch her.

Tara placed her hands on Audrey’s neck and felt around. She checked her eyes and her mouth. She placed her hand over her heart. Ran her hands down her arms and legs. Audrey winced when she hit several large bruises but managed to keep from crying aloud. The woman frowned and glared at the brothers.

“Not our doing.” Heroc held up his hands in mock surrender. “She had some of them when she arrived here and acquired the rest while stumbling around in the storm the other night. If not for Carn we wouldn’t have found her.”

Tara paled but continued working. She was thorough and when she was done she nodded. “Not serious. Minor bruises. As I said before, rest, good food and fresh air are what she needs to get well.” She stared down at Audrey. “And I think it wouldn’t hurt you to let out some of your emotions. You strike me as a woman who keeps too much inside. The weakness from your illness is allowing them to the surface.”

Audrey was floored by the older woman’s accurate assessment and didn’t quite know how to respond. Thankfully, Tara didn’t seem to require one and turned her attention to the two brothers.

“Go easy today. No exertion.” With that, Tara picked up her tray and bustled back to work.

Such simple advice, yet so hard to follow. Audrey had never been good about resting, or letting out her emotions for that matter. She’d always been strong because she’d had to be, always depended on herself. And who would she let her guard down around? Her coworkers? They’d eat her for lunch and spit her out. She could kiss her job goodbye. Her assistant would see any sign of weakness as an opportunity and pounce on it.

Her head began to throb the more she thought about it. Her life sucked. That was no way for anyone to live. Yet how many people lived just that way? No wonder so many got sick because of prolonged stress. It took a terrible toll over time.

Heroc rubbed her shoulder. “Don’t look so sad. Everything will be fine.”

Audrey glanced at Abrah. He stood with his back to the fireplace, feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his massive chest. Somewhere along the way he’d gotten rid of the sword Heroc had given him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t holding a weapon. The man was seriously imposing even when doing nothing more than just standing there.

“Why do you want me to stay? You don’t even know me,” she blurted out.

That was one of the things she couldn’t understand. Yes, she realized there weren’t that many women here, but surely there was someone they could claim, some woman who would wed one of them. She was a complete stranger. And, if she were being honest with herself, she’d always felt lacking in the female department. She was hell-on-wheels as an advertising executive, but she’d never been able to hold down a long-term relationship.

Abrah strode forward and crouched in front of her. His wide shoulders and chest blocked her view of the fire. His skin gleamed and his long hair brushed his back and torso. “The tapestry wouldn’t have brought you if you weren’t right for us. That is its gift, its magic.”

He picked up her hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips, placing a tender kiss on each knuckle. For a brief second, she glimpsed his vulnerability, the volcanic need that bubbled just below the calm surface. Then it was gone, hidden once again behind a stoic façade. “Believe it or not. But you wouldn’t be here if you were not suitable.”

“But what would I even do here?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. What was she saying? What was she thinking? She couldn’t stay here. This wasn’t her world. She didn’t belong here.

“What do you do back in your world?” Heroc seemed curious.

“I’m an ad executive with Claymore and Butler. Basically my team and I come up with slick ways of getting people to buy things. We use print media, television, online and magazine to run our campaigns.” And from the looks on their faces neither man had any idea what she was talking about.

“That is a strange and unfamiliar job,” Heroc admitted, “and from the sound of your voice and the look on your face you do not enjoy it.”

She leaned her head back against the back of the chair and sighed. “Not so much. I fell into it really. I started out as a graphic designer. An artist, of sorts.” She wanted them to understand her life and who she was. There was no logical explanation for it to matter if they did or not, but she wanted them to.

“You are an artist.” Abrah sounded impressed.

“I used to be.” She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know what I am anymore.” And that was the honest truth. Audrey had no idea what she was going to do with the remainder of her life, but she was very afraid her days at Claymore and Butler were over. She’d changed. Her illness had started the process but coming here had solidified it. There was no way she could go back to the way things were.

She’d have to find a new job. That would mean living off her savings, maybe even leaving the city altogether.

Scary proposition.

Heroc interrupted her internal battle. “The rain and wind have stopped, and while the air is cool, it is not too cold to go outside. I’d like to show you our home.”

She wanted to see it, wanted to experience the world they lived in. “I’d like that.”

Abrah still had a hold of her hand and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll find you a warm cloak to wear. If you get tired, tell us and we’ll rest.”

There was no impatience in his voice, no sense of derision because she was weak. Only concern. When was the last time someone had been concerned only with her and her feelings? Never. Even her mother had expected her to be strong and to do her share. She’d never been mollycoddled or protected from the realities of life.

“Audrey?” Abrah squeezed her hand.

“I’ll tell you,” she promised.

Carn bumped her right leg, almost knocking her over. Abrah caught her and chuckled. “It seems he likes you. You have a powerful and loyal protector in Carn.”

The same could be said of Heroc and Abrah. She’d never met men like them before. There were no games, no subterfuge. You knew where you stood with them. She appreciated their honesty.

Abrah dropped her hand and turned away. She half raised her hand, wanting to reach out to him, but dropped it back by her side. Since she wasn’t staying, she couldn’t let herself get attached to these men. It wasn’t fair to them, or to her.

But, oh, how she was going to miss them when she was finally home again.

Home . The word didn’t hold nearly the same amount of comfort as it did when she’d first arrived. Did she really have a home or was it merely a place for her to sleep? The longer she was here the more confused she became.

Heroc came up behind her and dropped a heavy, fur-lined coat over her shoulders. “This will keep out the chill.” He tucked her arms inside the sleeves and tied the leather lacings that closed the coat. Immediately the warmth of the garment surrounded her like a hug. Or maybe it was Heroc’s tender care as he helped her put it on.

Anticipation flooded her. She was excited about her tour of the keep, wanting to know more about their home and world, to see outside the confines of these stone walls.

“Ready?” Abrah held out his hand.

“I’m ready.” She took his hand and he tugged her toward him. Heroc took up his post on her other side, taking her free hand in his. Together all three of them left the warmth and safety of the castle and headed outside with Carn trotting ahead to clear their way.