Chapter Eighteen
Ricki pierced Ristéard with another annoyed look when he grinned at her. Turning her back on him, she tugged on the black knit cap that her mother had pulled out of the never-ending supply of items she had packed. She had to admit she was thankful her mother was so resourceful. Not so much for her, but for them as she thought of how chilly it was compared to earlier. The suits might regulate their bodies, but they would need a cover for their heads with the stiff wind that was blowing.
“Are you cold?” Ristéard asked, coming up behind her.
Ricki glanced over her shoulder and scowled at him. “No,” she said, before reluctantly admitting why. “I’ve never had a problem with the cold, it is the heat that bothers me. Mom was always on me when I was little to wear my sweater, o
