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The display of wisdom by Dara’s boys released some of the tension from his shoulders. Jesse breathed out a sigh of relief that Abigail seemed to be in capable hands. If only they knew how to get her out of the captain’s reach, then he could give in to the nothingness beckoning him from the grave.
Jesse rocked back on his heels, his head snapping back. He looked up at the twilight sky and breathed deeply. He exhaled, closed his eyes and fell to the ground. Air stole from his lungs. His ribs jolted his innards at the impact. Rocks invaded the cuts and scrapes, pierced his flesh anew and jarred his already thundering head. “Lord, take me into Thy eternal sleep, if You will.”
“Are you well?”
He didn’t need a firebrand or the light of the moon to know Abigail leaned over him. He didn’t need the thundering in his head to halt in order to hear her voice. He could smell the scent of her, feel the way her jasmine scent made the air seem lighter. A peace cloaked him. A peace that came from her genuine concern, for no woman outside of his family had ever cared to ask if he was well.
He reached his hand up and ran his fingers along the curve of her jaw. She shivered beneath his touch, and he smiled. If he died this moment, he’d go a happy man. For what more could a man ask for than to be cared for by such a beautiful and kind woman? “I am.”
Chapter Seven
Abigail plopped down beside him and tucked his hand into hers. A warm sensation fluttered in her chest. “I am happy you are well.”
The corner of his lip curved upward and she wondered what he looked like beneath the swelling and bruises. If fate shined on her, he would not be handsome. Not at all. For why would a handsome man wish to court her even if she was a princess...or a queen.
“You cannot stay here, Abigail.”
“I will not leave you.”
His eyes slid shut and for a moment she thought he might be sleeping. If it weren’t for the warmth of his hand or the pulse in his palm, she’d weep.
“Abigail, listen to me. Go with Dara’s sons. They will take you to Jerusalem.”
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