kiss with Heath, Netta had refused to leave their house for days unless she absolutely had to assist Gavra in the kitchen or mothers with their children. Once she finished those tasks, she raced back here.
“You do it.” Netta held out her bag. “Being a healer is too hard. I like helping others with their work, not their good health.”
“Then help me.” She padded to the cowhide that served as their door. “And stay close no matter what happens.”
Netta drew back. “What do you mean? What do you expect?”
Aimee couldn’t tell her the truth. They’d never leave. “I expect lemurs, lizards, even flamingoes. No end of animals that could make you bolt.”
“What are you talking about? I like the pink birds and the other creatures never bother me if I do the same with them. You always jump and squeal when an insect buzzes too close.”
“Then you best protect me. Come.” She gripped Netta’s wrist and pulled her from their home.
“Wait. We forgot our food.” She ducked back inside and took too long to gather their morning meal.
During their walk to the stone house, Netta ate bread and fruit. Aimee declined her share. Her stomach fluttered too much to eat.
Heath’s scent, warmth, and strength lingered in her thoughts.
Netta stopped.
Aimee strode past, unwilling to delay their arrival.
“Where are you going?” Netta stood near the courtyard wall.
Aimee hadn’t seen it or anything else except her fantasies: Heath in her and Netta’s home, them in his, each sharing laughter, converse, meals, evenings, love.
Sun spilled past trees and drenched the courtyard in a golden glow. Earth gave up its rich morning scent. Dew clung to grass and leaves.
Near the looms and potter’s wheels, women hugged each other in greeting and smiled. Children dashed around vegetation or played quietly in the shade. Infants fed at their mother’s breasts and waved their tiny fists aimlessly.
Aimee’s chest hurt. She yearned for a real home, a large family, a future no one could take away. When the pirates had invaded, she’d lost everyone except Netta. During those dark times, she dreaded having a babe. After what those beasts had done to her, she wasn’t certain she could.
Melancholy pressed close. She pushed it away, ready for a new future even if she had to pull Netta into it kicking and screaming.
They greeted their friends and exchanged pleasantries.
Simone shuffled into the birthing room.
Aimee elbowed Netta. “Maybe you should give healing another try. Or at least helping Simone. Go on and ask her what the plants and petals should look like so you can collect what she needs.” Troubling over them in the forest would keep Netta busy before they ran into Heath.
“I think not.” She shoved the remaining bread in her mouth. “She may try to teach me about her potions again. When she talks, my head hurts. Tell me what berries you need.”
“The red ones near the trees.”
She followed Aimee past the wall into the forest. “Which trees? Tall? Short? Those with large leaves? Others with small ones?”
Follie had said Heath needed wood to build cribs for the coming infants. A task Royce had set him to do. “The sturdy ones.” What other kind could he use to make a bed?
Netta gestured to the trees surrounding them. Sunlight streamed through the heavy canopy and left bright dots on her palm and hair. “These look sound to me.”
“They have no berries nearby. We need to search for the bushes that do.”
“Where?”
“There.” Aimee pointed. Once they roamed that area, they could try another. Eventually, they’d come upon Heath.
She wandered through the woods, neck craned, alert to every sound.
Birds squawked and sang. Lemurs or other animals bounced the branches and shook leaves. Spotted butterflies took wing. Ones bluer than the sky joined them.
“Wait.” Netta inclined her head. “The red berries are over there. Enough to fill our sacks.”
“Those are the wrong ones.”
“How can you tell?”
She asked too many questions. “Because I can. Over here.” She avoided leaves and twigs that might mask other sounds.
Netta wasn’t as careful. Shuffling and crackling noises announced her steps.
Aimee stopped. “You need to be quiet.”
“Why? Will the berries hear us and run away?”
“You may coax out a snake.”
Netta chuckled. “Noise frightens the creatures. It never causes them to strike.”
“If you stand near one, it might.” A yellow snake slithered back into the foliage.
Netta shuddered. “I promise to take care.”
“While you follow me, you should look at the ground to make certain we avoid anything that might hurt us. I can search for the berries.”
They prowled through the vegetation. The air grew warmer, the breeze died down, and animals quieted, already sluggish from the increasing heat.
Perspiration clung to Aimee’s throat, intensifying her flowery scent. She ached to smell Heath’s. Fevered and wanting, she rushed through the vegetation.
Netta trotted to keep up. “Why are you running?”
Aimee halted.
Netta bumped into her and sucked in a breath.
Before Netta could flee, Aimee grabbed her arm.
Heath stood within a stand, his back to them. A large blade hung from a loop in his waistband. He ran his palms over a slender trunk and shook it.
Birds squawked. One left a nest and dove at him, its wings flapping furiously.
He covered his head and ducked. The thing persisted, trying to peck.
Netta pulled away from Aimee. “Take care!”
Heath twisted to her. The bird followed him. He staggered back.
Aimee waved her arms to frighten the thing. “Shoo. Go away.” Netta threw a rock.
The bird shot back to its nest.
Netta reached him first. “Are you hurt? Did it peck you?”
“I don’t think so.” He ran his hands over his
