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  He was laughing.

  Struggling for my composure, I took a deep breath and wiped my face. I had reopened the wound on my bad hand and sat down to change the bandage. “I even messed up bandaging the injured warriors,” I added.

  Batu was laughing harder than I’d ever seen him.

  “Would you stop?” I snapped and flung a wad of linen at him. “Someone told you I failed at everything, didn’t they?”

  He wiped tears from his eyes and settled, though his grin was huge. “Yes. The children were eager to share.”

  “The whole camp knows I’m useless!” I said miserably. I dropped onto my back and sighed. It felt good after my arduous day. “I could be a whore. That’s the one thing I didn’t try.”

  “That you cannot do,” he agreed, still far too amused.

  “If it’s all I’m good for, then I can.”

  “A goddess does not whore.”

  “How do you know? Have you met any other goddesses?”

  “No other goddess has a guardian who will put a sword through any man who gets too close.” He laughed again.

  I’ve seen him do that already. My eyes closed and I relaxed onto the ground. At least the day was over. If nothing else, I had made the people of the encampment laugh with my clumsy attempts to take on their everyday chores. If not for my language skills, I’d volunteer to let them trample me with horses, which was supposedly an honorable way to punish someone deserving of death.

  “I just want to be part of your world,” I murmured.

  “Patience, ugly one.” He stirred and knelt beside me, his scent and heat sending spirals of excitement through me.

  I sat up. “I can do it,” I said, too aware of his muscular form and the kiss we shared last night.

  He ignored me and took my wrist gently. Batu wiped away the blood before bandaging my palm once more. I didn’t look at him when he sat so close. What had been a comfortable distance yesterday morning was nothing short of flustering today.

  “You have said nothing about last night.”

  I really hated how he seemed to read my mind. I sought the right words and then gave up. I was never good at hiding what I thought or felt, and he’d know if I tried. “I don’t know what to think about it.”

  “More thinking,” he grunted and sat back on his heels.

  “What do you have to say about it?” I challenged and met his dark gaze. I held my breath without meaning to, nervous when I shouldn’t have been.

  “It did not displease me, ugly one.” His eyes sparkled.

  “You’re doing it again, Batu. Teasing me.”

  “I fear honesty would confuse you when you are already confused.”

  Wow. I didn’t expect this response. By the intent look on his face, he was saying exactly what I was reading between the lines. And he was right: I wasn’t ready for his complete honesty. Not yet. Not when I had no place in my new world and felt afloat. He was my anchor, and I feared losing that.

  Which sounded selfish and confused me further.

  “You’re right,” I said. “I’m not ready for honesty.”

  As usual, he appeared unfazed. “This is good,” he said and stood, returning to his side of the fire.

  “How so?”

  “Because there is something worth being honest about.”

  I flushed. Taylor had made me feel special; Batu made me feel …

  I didn’t even know. Exhilarated, terrified, ecstatic and uncertain, all at the same time. I was on a rollercoaster with him and had been since we met. They weren’t emotions I could free when I didn’t know how I fit in.

  He began sharpening arrowheads again, content with our almost-discussion about our almost-relationship. He had nothing to worry about; those that didn’t know to fear him or his claim on me lost their heads. He had all the time in the world to wait for me to be ready.

  “Moonbeam?” The tremulous voice came from outside the tent.

  Standing, I opened the flap, and my gaze dropped to the little girl. “Flowers!” I exclaimed and knelt.

  She threw herself into my arms, and I laughed, startled and delighted to see the little girl who had shared in my first adventure. Two Mongol warriors who looked the worse for wear, as if they had traveled quickly and fought their way through an army, stood nearby.

  Batu opened the flap of the tent and greeted them, welcoming them inside. The two entered, and I released Flowers from my hug. We walked inside, hand in hand. My curious gaze found Batu.

  “I sent for her,” he said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t know how important Flowers was to me when I knew he did. His attention went to the men who brought her.

  Flowers clung to me. I smiled down at her and knelt once more. “You’re safe,” I told her. “Are you well?”

  She nodded.

  “You look exhausted.” I brushed hair from her face.

  “We did not stop traveling for two days.”

  “Do you want to lay down and rest? Then we can find some food?”

  “Will you lay down with me?”

  “Sure.” I stood. It was a little awkward to take a nap with the three men in the center of the tent, but I was gradually becoming accustomed to the community way everything was done here. Taking her hand, we walked to the bed at the back of the tent. I lifted her onto the edge and tugged off her boots and then unfastened her cloak.

  She rolled back into the bed and gave a sigh of contentment. Smiling, I crawled in with her and wrapped her in my arms. Flowers smelled of dust and horses and was soon fast asleep.

  I was too hungry to be tired after my day but waited until certain she was out before leaving the bed. Batu and his guests had already left. Sitting by the fire, I watched the dancing flames, poured myself a goblet of milk, and returned to the fire to wait for Batu. Another deficiency to add to my ever growing list: I couldn’t find my way around the encampment if I were being chased by bandits who wanted me dead and I had to find him to save me.

  Talk about getting lost in the parking lot.

  Flowers began to snore. I glanced over with a grin. If nothing else, having her here meant I couldn’t have too much alone time with Batu. There’d be space between us to alleviate the tension so I could think.

  I still didn’t know why Taylor’s people wanted Flowers saved. Grateful Batu hadn’t taken her away and secretly killed her, I was at a loss to explain the significance of her survival. She was going to be in the same boat I was: learning to adapt to a new culture and society. If nothing else, she was young enough to learn to use a bow, which defied me at this point.

  “Moonbeam?” Suvdin’s soft call came from the entrance.

  “Come in!” I stood.

  She entered, trailed by Batu. “I heard you have a guest in need of a home.” She smiled.

  I glanced at Batu. “I thought she could stay with us.”

  “She’ll be safest if she remains here with Suvdin,” he replied.

  For the first time since we’d met, anger stirred. I wasn’t about to make a scene in front of Suvdin – but I wanted to. “She’s sleeping,” I said instead. “She’ll be frightened if she wakes up to strangers.”

  “This is wise. Do you wish to bring her to me in the morning?” Suvdin asked.

  “Yes,” I said, albeit unhappily.

  Suvdin either didn’t hear my reluctance or was graciously overlooking it. She smiled and left.

  I crossed my arms and glared at Batu. “Why can’t she come with us?”

  “She is safer here, goddess.”

  “She’s safer with you to protect her!”

  “You are angry.” He appeared interested.

  “Of course I am! You didn’t even ask me before you gave her away to someone else. She’s my responsibility.”

  “What would you have me do, Moonbeam?” he asked and approached, standing close enough that my anger began to slide into another warm emotion. “To protect you, I cannot have distractions. We may not be long in any one place. Here, Suvdin has agreed to adopt her as a dau
ghter. She will be safe and have a family. It is a rare kindness and honor.”

  But I want her with me. I bit my tongue and absorbed his words. He made sense. He always did. He understood this world better; I trusted him with my own safety.

  Turning to face Flowers, I still hesitated. “I would’ve preferred that you ask me first,” I said finally. “I don’t disagree with your decision. But I want to be informed.”

  “Very well, goddess. I did not mean to cause you distress.”

  I didn’t know why it upset me so much. It was partially because Flowers had originally been under my protection, and I deserved to be consulted before he made decisions about her welfare.

  But there was more. I just couldn’t figure out what. Flowers, like me, was an outsider, and it was nice to have company.

  “Suvdin has three children. She’s okay with a fourth?” I asked him.

  “She is. I provided the means to support her for her life as well.”

  “What does that mean?” I faced him curiously.

  “I gifted Flowers a thousand horses. They become her new father’s.”

  “So you bribed them.”

  “What is this?” he asked, head tilted. “It is honorable, goddess.”

  “Sorry.” I drew a breath. “I’m still learning. Do you have a thousand horses?”

  He chuckled. “I have a thousand and forty.”

  “That doesn’t leave you many, comparatively speaking,” I said. I had no clue the worth of a herd of horses, but I could guess a thousand of anything was a big deal, especially in an era like this. It was a large amount for a girl he knew nothing about and even more impressive when he appeared to be giving away nearly all of his wealth.

  “She will be safe, as you wish,” he said, not at all concerned about the loss of horses.

  I suspected he wasn’t doing it for her. He did it for me.

  “Thank you,” I said, anger melting. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I did,” he countered. “It was honorable.”

  And you are an honorable person. Even if his quick sword rattled me. It dawned on me, not for the first time but more insistently, that he had sacrificed a lot for me, even before we met. His way of life, his chance at a family, his horses and money. It seemed like … more than duty to me. I didn’t know him well enough to believe with certainty this was true.

  The warm emotions blooming in my chest and rattling my thoughts rendered me silent.

  I watched him check on Flowers.

  He chuckled. “How does someone so small take up so much room?”

  I smiled. I was confused again without really understanding why. He had never hidden who or what he was. There should be nothing about him that baffled me.

  “Batu … when you kissed me last night …” I paused, collected my thoughts, and continued. “Did any part of who I am bother you? I don’t fit in. I’m not tough or strong like your women. I proved today I can’t do anything productive in the camp. Did you think twice about who I was when you kissed me?”

  He was facing me, taking in my words with intentness. “Why do you think I kissed you? Because you are beautiful?”

  “Well … yes.”

  “You are peculiar, ugly one. I kissed you because of who you are.”

  I had kind of hoped he would say something different.

  “If I wanted beauty alone, I would visit the harem,” he added.

  “Ugh!” I groaned. “You were doing so well! If you had stopped speaking before harem …”

  “You value honesty.” He gave a half-smile. “There are concerns where I cannot be honest with you, and thus I will always be honest when I can.”

  Batu had secrets?

  “I am heading to the war camp,” he added. He bent to wrap his weapons.

  The idea of him in war made me uneasy. “You’re going into battle?”

  “Not battle. There is some strife among the clans allied to my uncle. I go to speak to them and ensure they remain loyal.”

  “The uncle who wanted us dead?”

  He nodded.

  “Hmm. That’s nice of you, considering he tried to kill us both.”

  Batu shrugged. “Loyalty, goddess. It is important.”

  Not to that asshole.

  “We can talk about what is between us when I return, ugly one.” The tease took the intensity out of his words.

  Initially worried about him leaving, his declaration replaced concern with a surge of other emotions I didn’t want to acknowledge. “When I’m ready,” I reminded him. “Not that there is anything.”

  I didn’t want there to be.

  Batu ignored me. He read me too well. “Stay with the wolves, little lamb,” he reminded me.

  I really hate that tone.

  I watched him leave, dreading and thrilled about the idea he, too, sensed something between us. He was too candid to let it fester, but I didn’t feel anywhere near capable of discussing something so serious when my world was still so fragile.

  Chapter Twelve

  Exhausted, I nonetheless had trouble falling asleep. It wasn’t just the fact Flowers kicked in her sleep, either.

  I was dwelling over what Batu said and what I really wanted to happen in my new life here. My future – specifically a family, husband – had never crossed my mind until my first time travel adventure, when I’d thought I was stuck in the past with Taylor. In college, I wanted to make a name for myself in some career path before I considered settling down. In hindsight, the plan was kind of vague. I didn’t have any idea what I’d be doing if not wandering through time. I had trouble choosing a major in college, because I liked too many different things. Having graduated before these adventures started, I was planning on interning somewhere, maybe in the marketing department of some huge company, to see if I fit in and if not, trying something else.

  They weren’t solid plans, not like spending my life in the Mongol Empire. I didn’t need a career here, aside from being a translator. But … it wasn’t fulfilling to think of my life as being on call to help bridge languages in between figuring out how to survive the day to day.

  It seemed like there should be more, yet there wasn’t really time for more in the way I was accustomed to. I couldn’t exactly have a long list of hobbies like I did in my time. I’d have to learn another, more practical skill as I adapted to this time. The community and family centric Mongols held similar perspective as Batu: they didn’t ask why they were who they were or where they were – they lived. It was both a freeing and frustrating philosophy, one I struggled with despite deciding I wanted to live like they did.

  Staring into the darkness above my bed, I had the sense I knew why: because I was still looking for a way out. Even telling myself I wasn’t, even admitting it was impossible. I wasn’t ready to fit in, because I didn’t think I’d be staying.

  Except when it came to the flutter of emotions I had for Batu. I hoped it was simply attraction, because he was strong and sexy. As with Taylor, when I looked at my future and the possibility of remaining here, I could almost see it happening when I considered Batu as my friend if not partner in survival.

  Or … as something else.

  I had the sense if I told him to back off, he would. Batu had been straightforward with me since the beginning and humored the idiosyncrasies I didn’t think existed in this time. What I had to figure out: if I really did want him to back off. If letting myself explore what we could be would somehow jeopardize the tiny part of me holding out for my return home.

  Restless, I fell into a light sleep and awoke when Suvdin came to fetch both Flowers and me. We were led to the edge of the camp, where Suvdin placed Flowers with a group of children being taught to fire a bow and arrow. I watched the two of them interact, a little uneasy still by the deal Batu had struck. His logic was sound: if we left to wander the steppes for a while, Flowers should be comfortable.

  This just seemed so permanent.

  My gaze roamed with my thoughts, and I shielded my eyes again
st the morning sun to see Ghoajin atop a horse headed towards a tent located a quarter of a mile from the rest of the encampment. I watched her, puzzled as to why she went and why she was alone. She was so fragile at her age, hunched over the horse’s mane.

  “Where is she going?” I asked when Suvdin joined me.

  “To care for the sick.”

  “I thought they were …” I waved at the tents behind us, uncertain which side of camp the battle injured and ill were kept.

  “Not these people.” Suvdin’s tone grew hushed. “They suffer the Great Plague. They cannot be kept close to camp, so they are tended until death in the ger there.”

  “Oh, wow.” I searched my memory for what kind of plague it might be. It was in the early thirteen hundreds, by all accounts, which was about the time the Black Death wiped out half of Europe. “Are there doctors or … uh, healers who help them?”

  “No,” she said grimly. “It wiped out many clan members and warriors several seasons ago. It returns to the steppes every summer to claim new victims, and remains a danger at the trading posts.”

  “We stopped at a post.”

  “Batu would only have done so if necessary. He knows to avoid such places during summer.”

  I frowned. I never did ask why we stopped there. He had business to conduct, but I fell to infection after and hadn’t thought twice about the stopover. “But why does Ghoajin go alone there?”

  “She is one of three who caught the Great Plague and survived. She can be around the ill without falling sick again. The others are with the army to tend any who fall ill there.”

  A memory stirred, one that made me pause to pull it from the depths of my mind. I swore Carter said something about the Black Death to me at some point …

  You are immune to everything from the Black Death to diseases that don’t exist yet.

  It was too much of a coincidence to assume he was joking. I didn’t know that at the time, but he had clearly planned on sending me to this era of time from the beginning, no matter how my trip to the Old West turned out.