Connor nodded, desire still thrumming, and said, “Careful of what ye ask for.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“It’s beautiful,” Eva gasped as they rode into the village.
It lay nestled on the edge of a glassy loch, its waters catching the sunlight. Small cottages with thatched roofs dotted the gentle slopes, smoke curling from chimneys into the crisp morning air.
Children ran barefoot along the dirt paths, laughing as they chased a small dog, and the scent of fresh bread wafted from the bakery at the far end. Fishermen worked along the shore, their boats rocking gently in the clear water, and the mountains rose in the distance, rugged and green, framing the peaceful scene.
Eva leaned forward slightly on the horse, eyes wide with wonder. “I’ve never seen a village like this before,” she admitted, her voice tinged with awe.
“How come, lass? Ye grew up in the village, nae far from this one. Less than half a day’s ride.”
She shook her head, hair catching in the wind. “Aye, but since I was wee, I was helpin’ me maither tend to me brother, fetchin’ food, cookin’, cleanin’, sewin’, and mendin’ to make a livin’. I never had the time to see places like this, nor a horse.”
Connor’s hand rested lightly on her waist, steadying her.
“Ye’ll have time now, and ye own horse,” he said firmly, his voice soft but full of certainty. “Now that ye’re with me, ye’ll see the lands and the world. There’s more than just the village ye’ve known.”
She felt her cheeks warm and looked away, pretending to focus on the village ahead. “Ye flatter me, me laird,” she said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
Connor let the horse slow as they passed a small market square, wooden stalls offering fresh vegetables, woolen cloth, and fish from the loch.
“See there,” he said, pointing at a stall with colorful scarves. “That’s linen spun by the women from the next village over. They sell it here once a week. Ye’ll find the colors fair as any rainbow.”
Eva watched a young girl laughing as she handed over coins to a merchant, her eyes bright and cheerful. “I never thought people could be so… filled with joy,” she whispered, as if she feared the word.
Connor’s hand brushed hers as he guided the horse closer to the stall. “Joy’s a strange thing, lass, but one worth enjoyin’,” he said. “Ye’ve spent years tendin’ to the needs of others. Now it’s time ye see the world for yerself.”
Eva let out a small laugh, a sound light and airy, mingling with the gentle lapping of the loch against the shore. “Perhaps I could… try it, then,” she said, hesitantly, yet with a spark of excitement in her voice.
Connor’s eyes softened as he looked down at her, the wind whipping strands of hair across her face. “But mark me words, the world may be grand, but it can be dangerous too. Ye’ll need to ken who ye trust, and who to avoid.”
Eva’s gaze drifted to the mountains reflecting in the loch, their peaks white in the distance. “I think… I can trust ye, me laird,” she said, voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest.
Connor’s hand squeezed hers lightly, a silent reassurance. “Good. That’s a start,” he said, voice low, teasing, but with an edge of seriousness.
The Inn sat at the edge of the village, its wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze. Smoke curled from the chimney, promising warmth and hearty food inside, and the faint smell of roasted meat drifted across the path.
A stable boy raced out as they approached, eyes wide and full of excitement.
“Laird McLaren! I’ll take right good care of yer horse,” he said, bowing low.
Connor chuckled. “That is good of ye, lad,” he replied, voice full of warmth.
Eva watched the exchange, noticing the respect and admiration in the boy’s eyes, and felt a strange comfort in being near someone so clearly beloved by others.
The Inn’s door creaked as they entered, and the warmth of the hearth greeted them like an old friend. The walls were lined with wooden beams, and long tables with benches filled the room, some occupied by travelers and locals enjoying their midday meal. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows across the rough-hewn floor.
She glanced around, marveling at how cozy and welcoming the place felt. Connor’s presence seemed to command attention as they moved further in, and the Innkeeper, a stout man named Targon, hurried forward.
“Laird McLaren! It’s been far too long!” Targon exclaimed, clasping Connor’s forearm with both hands.
Connor grinned, clapping the man on the shoulder in return. Eva noticed the genuine warmth in their greetings, the kind that spoke of old friendships and shared memories.
They were seated near the hearth, the flames crackling and sending a comforting heat over the room.
“Mugs of ale for us, lad,” Connor said.
