The Stag Lord by Darby Kaye Page B

I’m hungry after all. Is there any stew left?”
    Bann sighed in exasperation, secretly grateful for the distraction. “Why didn’t you sup with us earlier? Now Shay will have to bother with—”
    â€œShay does not mind in the least,” Shay said. She opened the refrigerator door. Light spilled out into the room. Bann noticed her knife had disappeared. She bent over and peered inside, rummaging about. “How about a sandwich?”
    â€œYes, please.” Cor walked over and joined her.
    â€œAnd maybe some ice cream afterwards?”
    â€œYes, please!”
    â€œHe doesn’t need ice cream.”
    â€œYes, he does,” they said at the same time. Grinning, they bumped fists.
    â€œHah! Two against one,” Cor crowed. “We win.”
    Hiding a grin, Bann leaned a hip on the kitchen table and crossed his arms over his chest. “I demand a recount.”
    Shay leaned closer to Cor. “Has he always had trouble with numbers?”
    Cor hooted with laughter. “Yeah.”
    â€œYou know I can hear you,” Bann said. He sank down in a chair. “And just out of curiosity, what flavor of ice cream are we talking about?”

    An hour later, Bann pulled the covers higher over his sleeping son. Stripping in the darkness, he left his clothes in a pile on the floor. He hesitated, looking down at his body, then tugged his boxer briefs free of the jeans and pulled them back on. Something about sleeping naked in a stranger’s bed—a strange woman’s bed—with nothing on but his tat just didn’t sit right with him.
    He crawled into the other bed with a sigh, reveling in the luxury of a full-length mattress after a year of sleeping in a cramped bunk. Hands linked behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. The image of the mutilated bird poked at him. How did he find us here? After so many months and so far from home? I hadn’t even decided which route to take until two days ago. And why hasn’t he attacked? Why was he content with wrecking the camper and leaving the bird, clearly a message of some sort?
    Bann rolled to his side. The sooner we leave, the safer for Shay . He smiled into his pillow. ‘Twas a bit of luck, however, running into her—she’s quite a Healer . A voice whispered in his head. She’s quite a woman, too, eh?
    Ignoring the voice, he started ticking off what he needed to accomplish before they left tomorrow. Repair the windows on the camper, restock supplies, and convince a certain Healer that her patient is well enough to travel . He dreaded number three on the list. Something told him she would not let them go without a fight.
    He fell asleep, smiling.

6
    P ADDING PAST THE GUEST room on bare feet, Shay headed to the kitchen. Dressed in a ragged pair of sweats she used in lieu of pajama pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt emblazoned with the words Pikes Peak Marathon , she ran her fingers through hair still wet from a morning shower. She winced when Max came trotting after her with a clicky-click of dog nails on the wood floor. “Dude,” she whispered. “Can’t you tiptoe?”
    Better get the coffee going before Bann— She paused in the middle of the kitchen. Maybe he doesn’t even drink coffee. Maybe he’s one of those heathens who don’t worship at the feet of the almighty bean . She shrugged and flipped on the coffeemaker she had prepped the night before. “More for me.” Just in case, she left a clean mug next to the machine.
    She leaned over the sink and opened the blinds, holding her breath when they clinked against the pane. Another gray day gave her the finger; low clouds obscured the new sun. Fine. Be that way , she said to the sky. She moved over to the patio door and peered through the slats.
    Nothing except for a dark smear on the concrete slab. “Yeeesh.” Thoughts of bleach and a power washer zipped through her head. After ratcheting the slats to