He would make it up to Sin later. For now, they had to be practical. “Sounds good. What can we do for you?”
“There’s a pile of wood in the back that needs chopping, and a fence that needs repair.”
Braden clapped Sin on the back and headed toward the area.
“We’ll get busy, then.” Braden led them off.
“Hey, lad?” Seamus asked, stopping him mid stride.
Braden turned to look back.
“What are your names?”
“I’m Sean, and this,” he gestured to Maggie, “is my brother James,” and in turn he indicated Sin, “and Durbhan.”
Seamus eyed them cautiously. “They don’t talk much do they?”
Braden shook his head. “Not much to say.”
He seemed to accept that. “Fine then, but I do warn the three of you to keep your hands off me daughters. I may be an old man, but I’ve got a bow and a shovel, and no one here would care what I did with the lot of you.”
“Yes, sir.” Braden tried his best not to laugh at the warning. Sin would never lay hands to one of his daughters and Maggie...
He’d best not even think of that lest it make him laugh.
“Shall we chop wood first?” Braden asked them as he led them to the small yard behind the house.
“Chop wood, my arse,” Sin sneered in a low tone. “I’d sooner?—”
“It strikes me,” Braden said, interrupting him, “that you’re supposed to be mute.” He looked at Maggie. “Have you ever met a mute who spoke more?”
Maggie didn’t look one tiny bit amused. She said nothing as Braden dropped his pack, then grabbed the axe from the stump where the old farmer had embedded it.
Fury smoldered on Sin’s face as he picked up another axe from the ground and glared at Braden who half expected his brother to lob the axe at his head.
Instead, Sin turned on his heel and cleaved a large log in twain with one angry whack.
Shaking his head at Sin, Braden grabbed another limb and set to work on it.
Maggie stood back as they started breaking the large pieces of tree into fire logs. Her heart ached as she remembered the farmer’s warning about his daughters.
Why, oh why, couldn’t the man have sons?
Maybe they’re ugly.
Maggie paused at the thought. Aye, maybe they were toothless like the farmer, with warts and pock marks who wouldn’t tempt Braden at all.
Seizing that hope, she moved to lift one of the large logs, but Braden stopped her. “You can get the kindling, let us take the larger ones.”
Without a word, Maggie set the log back down and picked up the smaller bits, then took them to the wood pile next to the wattle and daub house.
Turning back toward Braden and Sin, she paused to watch the men in awe as they hefted the heavy axes and broke the logs with ease. A fine sheen already covered their bodies and she couldn’t help but stare at the way Braden’s shirt drew taut over his muscles every time he brought the axe back.
Mesmerized, she clenched her hands into fists as she fought the urge to touch the bulging muscles of his arm. Or wipe his damp black hair back from his forehead.
Och now, but the man was glorious and disturbing to her well-being.
Desire coiled through her in a way she’d never before known. Now that she had a taste of Braden, she was like some possessed drunkard craving more ale. For the first time in her life, she understood obsession. Understood true desire for a man.
