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His pensive smile made her conclude he matured too fast f
or his age. “You are right. A lot.” He shrugged. “Clan matters are foremost in his life.”
The pig-headed giant should have married again, she conjectured. He would not be hassling his son now. She decided not to externalise the musing; Sam was too inexperienced for these subjects. To visualise the man married to someone else did grotesque things to her insides. Though if he had married again, she would never have met him, for he would have had other children to ensure the clan’s succession. Inestimably fortunate it would have been for her!
“I can understand it.” She answered instead. “But my brothers do not go around abducting women.”
“I would like to meet them. They seem to be good folks.”
“They are.” She replied nostalgic. The memory of them caused her to miss her family and her home.
Minutes passed in silence.
“Do you by any chance learned where my servants and carriage are, Sam?”
His gaze flew to her. “I am not sure, but I can try to find out.”
“Good.”
“Are you planning another escapade?” His smug countenance showed she earned his admiration in the first attempt. “I beg of you to be more careful this time.”
“I would not be so stupid again.” She agreed.
“You had better not to, I reckon.”
“I believe I have an idea, but I will require your help.” Her eyes distant, hoping to obtain a measure of advantage this time.
“Anything you need.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Before she put her plan into action, she called for a talk to the troglodyte once more to make sure there could be no other way.
The opportunity came as they worked the fields. This time heaping the stacks of oat sheaves on the carts to take them to the barn. Workers would separate the grain from the rest of the plant.
They ended up in the same cart, to take it to where they would be seeded. Both would need to unload the cart there. They could not avoid going together, for people would take notice.
Dress and apron covered in oat stems, sweaty skin, satisfied with the day’s work, even if exhausted, her hopes ran high.
At her side, sat a stern-looking giant, dishevelled sable hair, tartan only around his trim waist. Rolled shirt sleeves revealed tan skin and bunched muscles, smelling earthen man and a full day’s toil. Her heart skipped a beat with his proximity on the box. She decided a cool head must be in order, so she tamped down the effect he vented on her.
The irregular terrain made the cart jostle as the sheaves swished behind them. The early October presented them with a cool wind and low sun over colourful vegetation of autumn. An elixir for the eyes. The scent of cut stems surrounded them in bucolic atmosphere.
“Taran.” She started. His head swivelled to her at his name on her lips for the first time. “I want to go home.”
His attention turned back to the road in equal speed. “No.”
Who on this world would have hoped for a different answer? She, by the looks of it.
“I understand your reasons.” An attempt to compromise would show him she was willing to find a middle ground.
“That is why I am going through with my plan.” Diamond-hard tone demonstrated his single-minded intentions.
No compromise for the unyielding giant. “You should do this the right way.” Would insistence help? “Send Sam to The McKendrick with an offer.”
His moss eyes focused on her again provoking a shiver to run through her. “You tell me if your father would consider it.”
No, her father would not. Least of all because Sam was little more than a boy. A sigh stifled, she continued. “Then sit with him and sign a peace agreement.”
