He knew he was a fool, wasting his strength on the last lass on earth he should take any interest in. But he continued looking for her for the next quarter of an hour.
Did a wild animal already get her? The thought of it made his heart and feet race.
“Miss Woodburn!” he called out as he entered the shadow of Ben Nevis. “Elspeth!”
Fool that she was to go off alone in a place she did not know. And why was he going after her? This was her second attempt on his life. First poisoning, then this! He should let her go and bid her good riddance to the trouble she caused.
“Miss Woodburn!”
He heard a sound behind him and spun around, but not before a stick smashed against his left arm. Alright then. He hated to do it, but she gave him little choice. He reached for the hilt of his claymore with his right hand and cracked it across her stick, splintering the wood to pieces.
It was over in the blink of an eye, but he stepped closer and hauled her against him with his left arm around her waist.
“Cease tryin’ to kill me,” he warned, blending their breath.
She closed her eyes, shielding herself from whatever was pouring out of his gaze.
He didn’t realize he wanted her in his arms until he pulled her closer. But she didn’t want to be there. Still, he had to convince her to stop his madness. “End this now.”
She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Give me yer dirk and I will.”
“I will keep ye tied up.”
“Ye will let me go eventually.”
He looked down at her, fighting back his enjoyment in her bravado.
He let her go now. She fell on her rump in the dirt.
“Come.” He didn’t wait for her to get back on her feet but started for home.
“Ye still want me to go with ye?” she asked with a skeptical stare.
“Aye. I told ye, I understand ye lost everything because of me. Ye’re a fool fer tryin’ to kill me, and I will do what I must to stop ye, but I will no’ leave ye on yer own.”
They walked back to the rocks to gather her clothes and then, after picking a few more ingredients for his morning stew, returned to the house. Logan was glad that for the time being, she wasn’t trying to kill him.
His cousins had gone. Alone with her once again, he questioned his sanity for agreeing to stay with her until—until when? After they ate breakfast? In truth, he was the only one who ate. Once she found out he had added mushrooms, she refused the meal, claiming the fungus made her feel ill last time she ate it.
She followed him to the stream when he went back to clean the breakfast earthenware and then stayed with him while he practiced swinging his claymore.
“’Tis difficult to believe the lass who was tryin’ to kill me a few hours ago is now helpin’ me regain my strength.”
“I wasna trying to kill ye,” she corrected him. “I was simply testing yer reactions. Ye held me with yer right arm and ye fought me with the same.”
He laughed, swinging. “So, ye expect me to believe that ye ran away with the intention of hidin’ until I came fer so ye could test me?”
“Correct.”
“But lass,” he said, lowering his blade and closing the gap between them in one step. “How did ye know I would come?”
“Something in the way ye look at me, Mr. Cameron,” she admitted after a moment.
“Och? How do I look at ye then?”
“Like ye dinna mind me being here.”
His heart faltered. Was he that obvious? Did he care? “Why would I mind?”
