WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations by Kathryn Veque (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📗

his books to anything else. He used to be a knight, once. I suppose he still is in the literal sense of the word. But my mother died a few years ago and that seemed to turn him to his books for escape, I suppose. He grieves for her, still.”

Andreas almost brought up how her father would react to the loss of a daughter who drowned herself in the river, but he kept silent on the matter. He had her talking and she was being as congenial as he’d ever seen her, so he didn’t want to disrupt it.

“I am sorry for you,” he said. “And for him. I, too, lost my mother years ago in an accident, so I understand what it is to grieve.”

Her focus on him was becoming more intense. “What happened?”

“She drowned along with my two younger siblings.”

Her eyes widened. “Then that’s why you jumped in after me at the river,” she said. “Now I understand. You did it so that I would not drown like your mother.”

Andreas hadn’t even thought of that and her words hit him like a hammer. He was about to swiftly deny it, but the words died on his lips. Before he realized it, he was sitting on the bed next to the door, pondering what she’d said to him.

It took him a few moments to realize that she was probably right.

Maybe that’s why he had been so angry at her – voluntarily doing something that his mother and baby sisters had been given no control over.

And he hadn’t been there to help them.

“That is very possible,” he said after a moment. “It was a carriage accident. The bridge that they were traveling on collapsed and dumped the carriage into the river.”

“And no one was there to save her?”

He shook his head. “I was not there if that’s what you mean,” he said. “I was away, fostering at the time. She was traveling with my aunt and my young cousins when the bridge collapsed. They had an escort who tried to save them, but their efforts were futile. As a youth, I always wondered if it would have made a difference if had I been there. Every man thinks he can save the world. Or, at the very least, his mother.”

Gavriella was looking at him seriously. “My mother died of a cancer,” she said. “I could do nothing for her except watch her die a long and lingering death. Sometimes I wonder if it would have been better if she had gone quickly and unexpectedly, like your mother. She suffered a few minutes of terror and mayhap even pain and then it was over. But my mother lasted a little over a year while something ate away at her chest. It is an ugly way to die.”

It was a surprising show of honesty from a woman who had been closed off and guarded since they had met. Little by little, barriers were breaking down, something that wasn’t lost on Andreas.

Truth be told, his barriers were breaking down, too.

“There are a thousand ways for a man or woman to die,” he said. “In my opinion, only one of them is peaceful.”

“What’s that?”

“Going to sleep and never waking up.”

“That is the best we can all hope for, I suppose.”

Andreas’ gaze lingered on her for a moment. He couldn’t help but speak what was on his mind. “You just walked into a river,” he reminded her quietly. “If you would have rather died in your sleep, why did you do such a thing?”

Her expression seemed to tighten and she averted her gaze, looking at her hands. “Because…” she said, paused, and then continued. “Because it seemed like a good idea at the time. So much… anguish. Sometimes I simply want it to end.”

“What anguish?” he asked. “Surely there is comfort for you with a priest or with your family?”

Quickly, she shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Not any of them because they do not… well, it does not matter. I have found that speaking to a stranger who doesn’t already have preformed opinions and a sensible outlook has been an odd comfort. And to be truthful… walking into the river was a spur of the moment decision. It was not a smart or reasonable one. I don’t think I was really serious, but I slipped into a hole and went in deeper. Mayhap I thought I could pull myself out; I don’t really know. I am not usually so weak, but…”

He watched her struggle for a moment, unable to continue. “But your emotions got the better of you,” he finished quietly.

“They did. I admit it, they did.” She lifted her head to look at him again. “And you jumped in after me. I still do not fully understand why you would risk yourself for someone you do not know, but I suppose I understand a little more now.”

She meant because of the way his mother had died. Andreas simply lifted his big shoulders. “I did it because it was the right thing to do,” he said softly. “But… mayhap you are right… mayhap there is a part of me that wanted to save you from drowning since my mother had suffered that fate. I had not really considered that until you brought it up.”

“I hope it did not bring back awful memories.”

He shook his head. “The pain of my mother’s passing has long since faded, so it is nothing that cripples me these days. It is simply part of my life, as the death of a parent is part of the lives of many, including you.”

They were wise and reasonable words, something that resonated with the both of them. “Then I thank you for speaking to me about it,” she said after a moment. “In fact… thank you for everything, Sir Andreas. You were correct. I was very ungrateful. Trust does not come easily to me and, these days, I am afraid my entire mood is generally poor.”

They were some of the first words of