Page 62 of Moon Craving

"Um . . . no?"

He shrugged as if that was the only answer she needed.

She managed to get her shift and blouse on under the fur before climbing out to

allow him to help her with the plaid. It was hard to get on in the small confines of the tent,

but she managed it--with his help. When she was dressed and about to leave the tent, he

put his hand on her arm.

She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"I will see all of you. Soon."

She didn't reply, just scrambled from the tent.

She rode her own horse this morning, a beautiful white mare his stallion seemed to

have a fondness for. Talorc kept her horse positioned between his and Niall's for the long

morning ride. When they stopped to water the horses and eat again, the sun was high in

the sky. Summer days were long and she had no doubt they would spend most of the light

riding.

While they kept a fast pace, it was not as blurring a speed as the day before.

Abigail was glad. She was a good rider, but she would have been nervous riding so fast

without his strong arm around her to keep her planted on the horse's back.

Their break was short and she forced herself to climb back onto her mare without

complaint. She would not add to Talorc's belief she was weak.

They had been riding for an hour when he grabbed her reins and forced her to

meet his eyes. "Agree, wife."

"Of course," she said, before she could think better of it.

"I will tell you when it is safe to speak again."

Ah, he had instructed her silence.

She nodded.

"Good." He nodded. "You are a unique woman."

Because she spoke little unless in a direct conversation of someone else's

making? It was a trait by necessity only. She would spend more time talking if she could

trust herself not to betray her secret doing so. As it was, her silence at the wrong time was

damning enough.