White Nights Read Free Page A

could never be again. “No one who cares,” she said, leaving it at that. She’d spent her whole life trying to please her father and brothers, but it was never enough, never appreciated. All her long hours of work and devotion to ensure their comfort had been met with more demands, contempt and indifference toward her own wants and desires.
    As she’d quickly discovered after she and Birk had been forced to move in with her family, nothing had changed in the five years she’d been gone. Though her three older brothers had married and lived in homes a short distance away, five of her younger brothers still shared space in the cramped three-room farmhouse along with her pa. And with her ma gone, they and her pa had expected her to step in and wait on them. She wasn’t a daughter or sister to them. She was a slave, someone they ordered around. They’d even started making demands of Alison who’d only been four, having her fetch and carry for them as they were too lazy to get up and do it themselves.
    Sofia nodded as if she understood what Eirica left unsaid. “Then you and I must be strong and help each other.” A shout from one of her grandsons made Sofia smile. “I have much to live for.” With that, she excused herself to go finish her supper preparations.
    Eirica did likewise. Moving to the back of her wagon, she pulled off the tailgate and struggled to move her wooden box of cooking utensils.
    “’Ere, lass, let me lift that down for ya.”
    Eirica turned to Rook, the cook for the men hired to drive west the wagon master’s cattle. “Thanks, Rook,” she said, stepping back, hiding her smile when he continued to frown at Sofia’s retreating back. Why those two didn’t get along puzzled her. They both seemed so friendly and at ease with everyone else.
    Rook muttered something beneath his breath then lifted her box down. “Point out what else ya needs.”
    She pointed to a large sack and another box. He lifted those from the back of the wagon as well. Wiping his hands down the front of his buckskin breeches, he studied her, his bright blue eyes intent as he pulled at his bushy white beard. “You’s frettin’ again, lass. Ain’t good for you or that babe you’s carryin’.”
    Rook’s fatherly concern touched her. As with Sofia, she felt as though she could talk to Rook and he’d understand. With sudden insight, she realized these two special people had taken the place of her parents. Rook was much more a father than her own had ever been. The feeling warmed her, allowed her to open up to him.
    “I try not to think of tomorrow or of what it will bring, but I just can’t help it.” Despite the heat of the afternoon, she shivered.
    Rook pulled her into his burly arms and hugged her awkwardly. His deep rumbling voice drifted over the top of her head. “Now, lass, ya has ta trust yerself. Ya come from good, hearty Scottish stock, like me, and we Scots is survivors.” He put her from him and gave her a stern look. “’Sides, we’s yer family now and not a one of us is gonna allow anythin’ to happen to ya or them young’uns of yers. So no more frettin’.”
    Touched by his concern and the emotion he tried to hide beneath a gruff exterior, Eirica hugged him back. “You’re a wonderful man, Rook. I wish you’d been my father,” she said impulsively.
    Rook turned beet-red. With shaking hands, he pulled three small wooden objects from his shirt pocket and awkwardly handed them to Eirica. “’Ere. For them young’uns.”
    In her palm lay three carved puppies, each in a different position. Sleeping, sitting and standing, all had incredibly realistic features. She would add these to the other wooden carvings he’d made for the children. “Rook, these are lovely. The children will love them.” Her second hug embarrassed him even more. “You’re spoiling them, you know.”
    Rook stepped back, blinking rapidly. He stuck his pipe between his lips, then shoved it back into his shirt pocket, his