Beloved Protector (Heartsong Presents) by Darlene Mindrup

night.
    She glanced down at the baby and her heart nearly broke. “Perhaps the men can search the area and see if there might be a goat.” It was doubtful, but she was desperate. She began an unending prayer to Elohim.
    Andronicus turned to Arius. “You heard her. Take the men and see what you can find.”
    Arius snorted in disbelief. He gave Andronicus a look that told Tapat if they hadn’t been friends, he would have let his commander know in no uncertain terms what he thought of him. Instead, he shoved past Andronicus and began barking orders at the men.
    Tapat’s distressed eyes met those of Andronicus. She was interfering in his command of his men and he was siding with her against his centurion.
    “I’m sorry,” she told him softly.
    He didn’t answer right away. He finally took a deep breath. “I’ll go see about the bedding.”
    Crassus was just coming in the door with an urn of water when Andronicus left. He set the water to the side of the sleeping mat and looked at Tapat.
    “I’ll start the fire.”
    She thanked him with a look. He ducked back out the door, and she could hear him rummaging around trying to find wood to build a fire outside. She found herself wondering about the young man. How could he be so kind yet also be a soldier of Rome? The difference between him and Arius in regard to the woman and child was as wide as a chasm. Perhaps it had to do with time spent in Rome’s army. Yet, Andronicus was unlike Arius, as well. Or was he? Would he have allowed the other man to kill the woman and child if not for her interference?
    “I found a few things.”
    Andronicus’s voice startled her out of her preoccupation, and she hurried to attend to the woman and child.
    Crassus came back into the hut. “I have the fire going. What can I do now?”
    Without looking at him, she gave instructions on how to prepare a broth using a pot from the kitchen and some of their supplies. Before he did so, he lit the small lamp bowl filled with olive oil that Andronicus had found. The little bit of light cast eerie shadows dancing and gyrating across the walls.
    Andronicus stood looking down at her as she wiped the woman’s brow with a wet cloth. He had removed his helmet but retained his sword and armor. His curly dark hair clung wetly to his scalp. He was so handsome; in other circumstances, she would have been willing to stare at him forever.
    “You know they will probably not survive, don’t you?”
    She looked away. “That is in Elohim’s hands.” She continued wiping the woman’s face. “You can leave now. I need to undress the woman to clean her.”
    “Shall I attend to the child?”
    Once again her heart swelled with gratitude. She didn’t want to believe that Andronicus could be a ruthless Roman soldier, and it was at times like this that she felt she knew the real man—the one beneath all the Roman accoutrements.
    “Thank you.”
    He gently lifted the lethargic baby and, ignoring the child’s strong scent, cuddled the bundle close as he exited the house.
    Tapat turned her attention to the woman. She was so thin that Tapat had no trouble lifting her body to remove her clothes. The woman couldn’t have weighed more than a five-year-old child.
    She then took the bedding Andronicus had provided and made a new bed on the other side of the room.
    She searched the house for another garment that she could use but could find none. She wasn’t surprised; from the look of things, this was a poor village, and most of the country’s impoverished had only one garment to their name.
    She poked her head out the door and found Crassus stirring something in a clay pot over the fire. She glanced around for Andronicus but could see no sign of him nor of the others. Already the sun was setting behind the mountains in the distance. They were now in the approaching band of twilight. Darkness would soon make it impossible to see without some kind of light to illuminate the way.
    “Crassus.”
    He glanced at her