Stranded with the Ogre (Taken by the Wisps #2)

6. Mari

Chapter six

Mari

A fter we unload the delivery, Winnie invites us in.

Stepping into his home, with its embroidered wall hangings and glistening silver heirlooms, feels like being hugged.

He arranges a plate with bread topped with grains and seeds, a few different cheeses, and fruit.

I pace the space, taking everything in.

“My partner did most of the decorating, but I did the embroidery. He hasn’t the patience for it.” He thinks about that for a moment. “I must not be as frustrating as a needle and thread, or I’d be out on my ass.” He has a sense of humor, and he can sew. I get it.

The two men visit for a while. Patti gives Winnie the lowdown on how he found me while I surreptitiously stuff food into my mouth.

It’s all so incredibly fresh. The bread tastes like it was baked today, and the fruit is ripe and sweet. It’s only when I pull my thumb into my mouth to suck the juice from it that I realize I’m being watched.

Well, that’s embarrassing.

“Hungry, I see,” Winnie says, delight dancing in his expression. “Hold on just a minute.” He leaves before I have time to retort.

I want to clap back; if he had gone through what I had, he’d be starving, too. The fucking cheeky-ass dwarf. I inwardly scoff.

“Here you go, miss. For the road.” The sack is full of fresh fruit and two loaves of bread. Well, shit, you can ’ t be annoyed now. In fact, I am surprisingly touched by the gesture.

I move to protest, to hand it back. Accepting kindness has never been my strong suit. It has always made me uncomfortable, like I’ll be asked to do something in return.

Then I remember Patti’s warning: if they offer you anything, take it . I suck back the protest building in my gut and reach for food.

“Thank you. I hope this isn’t putting you out.”

He scoffs and dismisses the notion.“Nonsense. I have more fruit and grain than I know what to do with. You’ll be doing me a favor.” I don’t understand what it is about this guy, but I am…relaxed around him. It’s a sensation I’m not used to. I’m always on guard, protecting myself, keeping a wide berth around anything new in self-defense. He seems funny and kind, making me want to invite him and his partner for the holidays. What is wrong with me?

Then I get a thought. “Winnie, have you seen other humans around? Ones lost, like me?” He and Patti straighten at the question.

“Well, no, miss, you’re the first I’ve seen in quite a while. Why do you ask? ”

“I was with two other women before I 'fell' here. I’m worried they might have, too. Only maybe at a different time or place.” Both Patti and Winnie consider it. Weigh the possibilities.

“That’s not entirely impossible.” Winnie drums his fingers on the dark wood tabletop. “I’ll keep my eye out, and if I see any wayward humans, I’ll send them in your direction—where are you headed?”

“I’m taking her to town. Hopefully, I will get some insight from the other humans living there,”Patti says.

“That’s good, smart thinking. Will you need anything else? I’m happy to help.”

“No, the food is perfect,” Patti says.

“Yes,” I chime in. “The food is plenty.” Winnie smiles at me, and something in it warms me in a way I don’t actually have a life experience to compare to.

Things in this land can be deadly and terrifying, but they can also be warm and comforting. The duality of it all is enough to make your head spin.

Nonetheless, it has taken me out of my head for an afternoon, out of my nightmares.

We leave the warm embrace of Winnie’s home, stepping into the even warmer sun. The two men hug, and then Winnie steps up to me, holding out his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you. If you end up here for a longer time, don’t be a stranger. I’d love to introduce you to Terrian.”

That warmth coats my inside once again, and now, instead of taking his hand in a cordial shake, I lean down and wrap my arms around him. He smells like woodstove and sage, which is almost how I envision a grandparent smelling.

He holds me out at length before embracing me once more .

We venture into the day’s heat, watching the charming homestead vanish—our carriage lighter, and maybe my fear, just a little.