Lancelot stood behind me. “He is fine. The animals have better senses than we do. They would have disappeared into their dens, burrows, and caves long before the storm rolled in.”
I felt simpleminded in the wake of such a logical explanation. “You know this from experience, I suspect?” I turned, not realizing until it was too late that I was now trapped in the cage of his arms.
Lancelot’s face was only inches from mine. “I have spent quite a bit of time in the wild.” He backed up, turning away. “Some of it with you,” he added with a small laugh.
I sat next to the fire and traced random patterns in the dirt to distract myself from his nearness, his smell, and the heat beginning to course through my veins. He wasn’t ready yet, I told myself. He still needed time to heal.
Lancelot sat dow
