“Yer cousins let me out.”
“Where are they?”
Entering the sitting room next, Jamie answered. “Ewen and Steafan went to check her story that ye went huntin’.”
“Did ye eat anythin’?” Logan was quick to ask him. If she poisoned Jamie, Logan would never let it go.
His cousin shook his head. “There is nothin’ here to eat.”
Relieved, Logan tossed him the key to the shop. “I killed a deer. Would ye butcher it fer me?”
Jamie smiled and nodded at him and then left them alone.
“Ye killed a deer?” He heard her dulcet voice behind him. “I didna hear the pistol.”
He turned to her and every fear he had about her trying to kill him and his kin vanished at the sight of her smile on him—and his bow hanging from his shoulder.
“I knew ye could do it.”
He breathed. Barely. “The effort was great. Mayhap, greater than anything I have ever felt before.”
“All the more accolades to ye then, future Lochiel of Lochaber,” she said. “If ye will allow me, tomorrow we shall practice with a sling.”
“A sling?”
“Aye, it takes much control to use one.”
He walked closer to her. Was that a feather caught in her tangles? He lifted his right hand to it and smiled at her. “A feather…”
“Remove it with yer left hand.”
His smile deepened. Damnation, he couldn’t stop it as he lifted his left hand to her head and removed the feather. He wanted to say something. But what? He was a grown adult whoknew very little about lasses. Looking into her eyes made him forget his arm and who was guilty of it. He didn’t like it. What kind of spell had she placed on him? It felt like a spell; like he was not in control of his thoughts or his feelings.
Thankfully—or not—they both heard the front door open and Steafan and Ewen enter the house.
“What do we do with her?” Steafan put to his cousin.
“I dinna know yet,” Ewen said, entering the sitting room. “First we must find Logan.”
He stopped dead when he entered the sitting room and saw Logan. “Ye’re here!” he said with relief pouring from his mouth.
Miss Woodburn blew out a frustrated sigh. “I told ye all I didna harm him.”
“Ye also told us ye wanted to kill him,” Steafan reminded her.
“Well,” she argued. “I didna kill him, did I? There he stands perfectly healthy and vir—”
As she snapped her lips shut, Logan turned to her with a slow scowl when she did not continue. What did she stop herself from saying? Virtuous? Nae. She would never consider him virtuous. Virgin? Nae. She did not know him enough to make that assumption. Vir…virile? An odd thread of something warm wove through his blood and his belly. He bit his bottom lip and then his tongue to cool down. He could not allow himself to feel anything for her.
No matter what else she had done, good or bad, he must not let himself forget that she had poisoned his food. She truly meant to kill him. He almost let himself forget when he used his arm. But he could not let down his guard with her, especially for his kin’s sake.
“Miss Woodburn,” he said with a hint of menace in his low tone, cooling his gaze, “did ye offer my cousins anythin’ to drink?”
She gave his dark expression a curious look and shook her head. “Nae.”
He felt his life return to him. It must have shown on his face because Ewen placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder.
“What is it, Logan?”
