“It was an accident. No need to apologize,” Zeke assured him.
Brenna scooted up under his arm. “Let me help ye,” she said.
Zeke placed an arm around her shoulders and allowed her to help him and let her lead the way.
“Where are we going?”
“To Dougall’s. I can clean yer wound for ye and get ye some clean clothes.” For a man who was injured, she thought he certainly seemed happy.
“So, what did you think?”
“What do ye mean?”
“What did you think about the practice?”
“Hamish is much bigger than ye.”
“Hamish is much bigger than everyone.”
She laughed at this and then sobering said. “Ye fought well.”
“Thanks. When I get back home, I’ll have so much to share with my students.”
“Yer a teacher?”
“Well, sort of. I own and run the studio, but I also teach people how to fight. Men, women, children.”
“Could ye teach me to fight?” she asked.
“Sure. If you want to learn.”
“I do.” Brenna thought this would be a good way to spend time with Zeke. “When can we start?”
“Not today,” he said, pointing at his leg, which was dripping blood.
They reached the house and Brenna opened the door, helping him inside and heading straight for the kitchen where she had him sit. She got some clean linen and put some water on to boil. In the meantime, she wet one of the cloths and began wiping the mud from his face and neck. She was so intent on her duties, that she failed to note the way he was looking at her, but when she finally did, it took her breath away.
“I think the water may be warm enough now,” she said, backing away from him and almost falling over a chair in her path.
Zeke reached for her, saving her before she completely lost her balance. “Careful,” he said.
“Aye.”
“Lucky for me I wore a kilt today.” He lifted it, exposing the cut on his thigh. “I think it looks worse than it actually is.”
Brenna was frozen in place, staring at his thigh, which led to other things she wasn’t sure she should see.
“Here, give me the cloth. I can wash it off.” He held out his hand.
“Nay. I will do it.” She placed the water on the floor by the chair and dipped the cloth in, wringing out the excess water. “’Tis just warm enough,” she said.
She knelt at his knee, gazing up into his handsome face.
Zeke ran his hand along her cheek as he returned her gaze. “There’s something about you, Brenna MacRae.”
“Something?”
“Something just right for me.”
