was still sleeping in the bed though she had given up several of the blankets to try to make him a little more comfortable on the floor beside the fire. Once she almost suggested they share, but was too uncertain of herself.
"First things first," she told herself as she brought in lots of extra wood to keep the cabin nice and hot. "Blankets and sheets, then scrub the floors and wash down the cupboards."
Though she had smelled no rodents when she searched the cabin with her Wolf, when making breakfast that morning, she found evidence that mice had been in the cupboards at one time. While she didn't mind mice, she didn't enjoy the thought of their filth getting into her food, and was determined to sanitize everything.
It took several hours to wash the bedding and clean the floors and cupboards. By the time she was done, Mary's hands were dry and chapped, but she felt a surge of pride surveying what she had accomplished. Back home whenever she finished a lot of work she just felt tired and cranky, but here, though she was physically exhausted, there was excitement bubbling in her that made her want to continue working and have something to be proud of.
Maybe this is how it feels to get a job done in your own home, she mused. My home.
Yes, she could definitely think of this place as home. Mary smiled to herself. Once she was away, she'd have to find a little farm of her own.
Once she was away. Her smile faded. She glanced around at the little room, the clock on the mantle, the sink that was just a little too high for her, the cupboards she had to stand on a chair to reach, the blankets draped across the ropes she had strung crisscrossed across the room.
I don't want to leave. She liked it here, and she liked Andre. As gruff as he was, he was always polite, always complimented and thanked her for her work, and at nights, if she shyly asked him what a word meant in a book she was reading, he answered without any derision.
"Well, I have to. I can't stay here. Not with a Bear. He doesn't want me to stay anyway."
Tears pricked her eyes, and she scrubbed them away angrily, hurrying to the bedroom for some books. There was one in particular that her father had absolutely forbidden her to read when she first saw it in the library, and now she wanted to know why.
Around five, it began to darken outside. As Andre hadn't yet returned, Mary put supper in the oven and went out to feed the animals.
Inside the barn was warmer than outside it, but it was still chilly. Mary shivered, glad that Andre had old jackets hanging on the barn door. She pulled on one that was too tight across her shoulders and marveled – how had a man the size of a Bear ever fit this? It helped her stay warm, though, and that was the important thing.
She had already fed the sheep and goat, the only animals in the barn, spread out new straw for their bedding when she realized something was wrong. Only three sheep were eating.
The pregnant ewe was laying on her side away from the other animals. Her sides heaved, and spasms shook her intermittently. Mary climbed over the side of the stall, rushing to the ewe's side. The other sheep and goat huddled together at the far end, whether for warmth or because they were afraid of her, she didn't know.
Her breath wasn't puffing out visibly, but Mary was struck by the thought that it was far too cold for a lamb in this old barn. She patted the ewe's head and shrugged off her jacket, laying it over the animal. She had never helped with an animal birth, but she'd witnessed all her siblings be born, helped the midwife occasionally, and it couldn't be that much different.
Could it?
***
The hunt was unsuccessful, and Andre prowled around the forest longer than he intended, walking off the growl in his chest before he returned home to Mary. It was always frustrating when he couldn't find anything to hunt, and he needed meat! The beans Mary had begun to cut their meals with were tasty but unsatisfying.
His heart lifted