‘Your goats are here,’ said Magnus, leaning casually into the doorway of the cabin the following morning.
‘Goats?’ she gasped, dropping the pot she was cleaning and pushing past him to see Torben arriving with a large cart driven by an ox.
It was far more than she had expected. Kendra tried to hold back her excitement and failed miserably when she saw the crate containing the two goats. ‘Look at them, aren’t they wonderful!’ she squealed, racing towards the huge cart of supplies driven by Torben.
She began to slow as she made her way around the side of the cart. Huge bags of milled flour and rye, four barrels of mead, as well as several clay pots used to store pickled fish or salted meat. There was even a large bundle of cloth, and an elaborately carved cot and rocking chair.
Magnus came to stand beside her, his shadow falling against hers on the side of the cart and swallowing it whole, and her excitement dropped like a pebble in a pond. ‘This is too much.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Magnus replied, unconcerned.
‘Heimdall wasn’t worth this.’
‘But you are,’ Magnus said, picking up the crate of goats, who immediately started bleating in outrage. ‘Let’s settle them in.’
She followed him to the pen where she kept her hens. When he had talked about widening and improving it for her to be able to keep goats, she had never imagined he had already bought them. There was already so much that he had done—too much. She glanced back at Torben, who was already shouldering a bag of flour and carrying it into her cabin.
‘Bring them indoors when the weather turns. But they’ll be fine out here for most of the year.’ Magnus set the crate down in the middle of the pen and untied the door. The animals hopped out, bouncing cheerfully as they inspected their new home. ‘I would have bought more hay, but you haven’t got the space to store it. I suppose they can forage around here, and eat kitchen scraps, at least, until I can build you a hay store.’
‘A hay store?’ She shook her head. ‘No, Magnus, you have done enough.’
Magnus glanced up as if surprised by the firmness of her tone. ‘It is no trouble.’
‘But…I can’t be indebted to you like this!’
‘Indebted?’ he asked, seemingly confounded by her behaviour. He stared down at the empty crate. ‘I do not expect anything in return… I am not trying to buy you, Kendra.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I just…want to see you happy.’
Her eyes glistened with tears and she looked away, staring at the goats as they leapt around their pen. ‘They are adorable… Thank you.’
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