Barbarian Mine (Ice Planet Barbarians #4)(49)

“Oh.” I think of our seaside cave and I’m a little sad. I liked it there, but our current cave is cozy and there are so many people around to help out. “But I thought you didn’t like it here, Rukh.”

He’s silent.

The horrible worry gnaws in my belly and I remember what Georgie said. “You’re not planning on staying, are you?” I whisper.

The look Rukh gives me is agonized. “The thought of leaving you and our son tears me apart.”

“But you’re still considering it.” The words that come out of me are bitter, hurt.

“If I know the two of you are safe…maybe I can bear it then. All I know is that if I take you away with me again, I am destroying you.”

“The thought of you leaving destroys me too, Rukh. Are these people so very bad?”

“They are not my people.”

“They’re not mine either!” I gesture at my pale, freckled skin and red hair. “Do you think I chose to show up here? I didn’t! But these people are good, caring people. We could have a good life here! Together!”

He hangs his head. “The only memories I have left of my father are of him and his words of caution. Telling me to stay away from the bad ones. That they will destroy me.”

“But he’s dead and I’m here now.” I hold our son out to him. “Our baby is here now. How can you leave us?”

“I don’t want to.” He moves forward and takes the baby into his arms, and I see the love on his rugged face. It breaks my heart anew. Our family is so perfect – why doesn’t he see it? “But if I stay, does it mean that my father died for nothing?”

I know he’s attached to his father. I know his memories of him are the only memories he has of anyone at all. Of course he’s incredibly emotional about them. But what about me? Our child? I want to scream a protest. It’s clear that Rukh’s warring with his own internal demons. He moves closer to me and curls up next to me in the furs, and we cuddle, watching our baby sleep.

“Everything in me, everything that I am,” Rukh murmurs. “It tells me that I should be here, with you. Taking care of you and my child. But when I close my eyes, I see my father’s angry face. And I wonder how long it will be before someone pulls us apart like my father and my mother. To live here and not have you? That will destroy me more than leaving.”

I nestle my head against his shoulder, my heart hurting. He doesn’t trust these people not to hurt him, not to destroy his fragile happiness. I get it.

But at some point, he’s going to have to trust, because I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him.





Chapter Eleven




HARLOW



The next day, one of the hunters returns with the news that he’s found a small herd of sa-kohtsk, seven in total. One of them is a kit. It is this that will provide the khui for my tiny child. I worry every time he drifts to sleep, because he’s not thriving. Not yet. I think of the poison in the air, and I am frantic to get a khui inside him. I want to hear him crying out with strength, not with a weak, feeble wail.

I worry that he won’t have many more days left.

Because I’m still recovering from the birth, they load a sled – normally used for hauling meat – with furs and cushions, and the baby and I are settled onto it as the hunting party readies. Liz is at my side, practically bouncing with anticipation as the men go through last minute weapon checks. She flexes her hands. “Can I hold him? Please?”

Even though every inch of me wants to clutch the baby and shove my breast into his mouth again in the hopes he’ll feed a bit more, I reluctantly part with my bundle. She takes him in her arms and her expression softens with delight. “Oh my God, he’s the cutest.”

I feel a warm flush of motherly pride at that. “He is.”

“Look at those teensy horns! And the teeny weeny brow ridges!” Her voice turns into a coo. “You are just the most precious, aren’t you?”

The baby cries, weak and dispirited.

I hold my arms out, my breasts automatically starting to leak, and open my wrap to feed him. “He’s not as strong as he should be,” I tell Liz when she hands him back. “I’m so worried.”

“The cootie’ll fix that right up,” she assures me, patting the bow slung over her shoulder. “Did you guys decide on a name?”

I nod, pleased when the baby latches onto my breast and begins to feed hungrily. Every meal feels like a success. “We took the first parts of both of our names and came up with Rukhar.”

“Oh, I like it!”

“Me too.” It seems like a big, fierce name for such a tiny, scrawny baby, but he’ll grow into it.

“I wonder what mine will look like.” Liz pats her stomach dreamily.

“Bigger, I imagine,” I say, and try not to be envious of the thought. It’s not Rukhar’s fault he’s early and tiny. My body just couldn’t handle nourishing him for much longer. I feel like a bit of a failure at that.

But then Rukh comes to my side and touches my cheek, and it doesn’t matter. We’re going to get our baby a khui, and it will fix him.

Like it fixed me.



? ? ?





We travel for most of a day. Rukh pulls my sled and the other hunters keep pace with us, though I know they could go much faster. Liz walks beside me, chatting my ear off and holding the baby whenever I let her. I hand him off more often as the day goes on, because even just riding in the sled is exhausting, and ‘Auntie’ Liz is eager to get in her share of baby time. I doze fitfully, and my dreams are terrible ones full of worry and fear.