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“Why must everything be an aventura?”

“Come now, Elena.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the small pool. “This will be fun and cool us.”

“It is hot today,” she admitted.

Thomas didn’t wait for her but pulled off his shoes and hose and rolled up his pants, wading into the cool water. It was bliss. “We don’t have this heat in England.”

“No heat?” She kicked off her boots and rolled down her stockings, rolling up the breeches she wore underneath.

Thomas tried not to look at her lovely, lean and shapely legs as she tucked her skirts into the waistband of her pants. “I mean the heat of the day is much less than here. We do have warm days, but the rainy ones usually outnumber them.”

“Do you have thunderstorms in England?”

“Yes, of course, but drizzle is usually more the thing.”

“Drizzle sounds sad.”

“I suppose it does, especially when it seems to last for weeks.”

“I am not sure I would like your England, Tomas.”

“I am not painting a very nice picture I admit but there are places in England that take your breath away. And some are like a painting in their perfection. Where my family lives in Dorset it is very pretty. We may not have many miraculous waterfalls, but we have plenty of bubbling brooks and rivers that are just teeming with fish.”

“We have many rivers full of fish here too,” she said, dipping her toe into the water. “My father told me that as a boy he and his friends would go fishing in the southern part of the Orellana and bring home their catch that would feed the whole village.”

“This is not a competition, Elena. I was just giving an observation.” He scooped up a handful of water and splashed it her way. Her reaction was to splash him right back. Soon they were soaked through.

Thomas went to the cart and retrieved two oranges, and they ate them while they waited to dry out. He would miss oranges. He could get them in England, of course; some even grew them in greenhouses on their estates, but they were often not as sweet as these. Perhaps he should do that too—when he got back, that is. He slipped two pips into his pocket before gathering up the lead of the donkey and guiding it across the small pond and over to the other side.

It was all downhill from there, and while high up, he scanned the land below. A small village lay ahead, but he decided they should go around it rather than get back onto the main road. Elena was sure to complain, but he could not stop the niggling feeling that danger lay ahead.

By the time they set up camp, they both looked like they had caught the sun on their cheeks, despite their hats. Tired and hungry, they worked in relative silence to bring the meal together. He refused to admit to Elena that his arm was aching and that deep breathing still caused him pain. Thomas did not want it to be the reason they fell behind. The sooner he got her to her mother’s village, the better.

*

After they had filled their bellies with food, Elena lay back and stared at the stars in the night sky. She had laughed and played in that small waterfall like she was a child again. It had been fun, and after the tension of the tavern, they had both needed it. Every day that Tomas got stronger, she felt her control slipping. He had naturally taken over today, and she had let him.

It made her realize that although she had been in control of his convalescence she had never really had control of the man. It was better this way, she told herself, but it also worried her. She saw that he was hiding his pain. Why would he not tell her? Surely it was not his pride. Or maybe it was. There was a lot about him she still did not know.

She did want to know so very much about him, but why go through all that to simply wave him goodbye as he sailed away from her? Turning her head, she studied him as he played with the coals in the fire, lost in his own thoughts. Was he thinking of her, as she was of him? He was so handsome now that all the swelling was mostly gone. And when he looked at her with those dark-blue eyes, her heart flip-flopped in her chest, like a fish on dry land.

They had not made love since they had left the fort. Every morning, she would hope that when he kissed her good morning, he would stay to gather her in his arms and make her body sing with joy. Perhaps tomorrow.

Eventually he kicked dirt over the embers and reached his four-fingered hand down to her. Why not use his other hand that he swore gave him no pain? Unless he was lying. When she gained her feet, she grabbed his other arm pretending to be wobbly on her feet. He flinched and clenched his teeth.

“How long has your arm been paining you?” she asked hands on hips.

“Just then when you pulled on it.”

“Tomas, we said no lies. I can see it has been paining you all day. Perhaps we should splint it again.”

“No!”

“If it is not yet healed…”

“Then I will deal with the consequences.”

“You are being unreasonable. Perhaps just wear it at night.”