“Good morn,” Rory answered in a clipped voice. “I gather ye slept weel?”
“Aye.” Her arms popped out from under the blanket and she stretched, her fingers brushing against his chest.
He stiffened, and Alana didn’t seem to notice what she’d done as she withdrew her hand. He was thankful he had worn a tunic to bed. Though the thought to go to sleep bare-chested never crossed his mind. To do so would have been disrespectful, and he would do no such thing.
Her eyes went to the window and she cocked her head.
“The rain has stopped?” She asked.
“Aye,” he answered as he swung his legs off the bed and pushed himself up to stand, stretching his back as he did so. “We should ready ourselves and continue on our way.”
Thirty minutes later, their sacks were packed, and they exited the croft. Outside the ground was littered with leaves, pine needles, and branches that had fallen from the force of the rain and wind from the night afore.
“E’erything is amiss. The storm must have raged on e’en harder than I thought,” Alana said, adding, “I am glad ye found us shelter, Rory.” She placed a hand on his arm, and he straightened stiffly. “I ken I was acting most difficult when we had first arrived, but I realize that ye were doing so for our safety. Ye are a kind man.”
Rory scoffed, but nodded, trying not to show how much her touchaffected him. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. Whatever feelings he had thought he started to feel this morn and his reaction to Alana’s recent statement irritated him. What the hell was he doing?
Alana was promised to another. He was her escort.
Her escort to her betrothed no less.
He needed to clear his head and get his mind straight. Doing so meant that he could not give allowance to the thoughts he had pondered this morn. Nay, he had no right conjuring up those images in his mind from earlier. Clenching his jaw, he vowed to keep Alana at arm’s length. To not let her in. He would not. He could not.
The ground below their feet was saturated and made squishy sounds as they walked away from the croft. “The path will be slick and slippery. Dangerous e’en. We will need to take care to ensure ye dinnae fall and hurt yerself,” Rory warned.
A gust of wind swirled around them, and Alana brushed her hair out of her face and nodded.
Cautiously, they ventured on, leaving the croft far behind. They approached a wide gorge that required them to cross so they could continue on the other side. A bridge built of rope and wood slats hung across the opening betwixt the two sides. “We will need to cross.” As he spoke, the wind blew, causing the bridge to sway from side to side.
Rory waited for Alana to panic. Expected her to, but to his surprise, she nodded, bravado ebbing off of her in palpable waves.
“I will cross first to confirm ’tis safe.”
“What if ’tisnae? Ye will fall to yer death.” Her hazel eyes rounded with the first sign of fear she’d shown since learning they would need to cross.
“I willnae. I have crossed this bridge ofttimes. Some time has passed since the last time but it still appears sturdy. First, we need to ensure ye are ready to cross after me.”
She gazed at the bridge and then back to him as she worried her lipbetwixt her teeth, but nodded.
“First, ye need to tie yer skirts. Ye dinnae need them to get caught in the ropes and cause issues. They will only trip ye up and that could be disaster. We dinnae want that.”
With shaking hands, Alana began tying her skirts as he said and listened intently as he gave her instructions on how to cross the bridge. Where to place her feet and where to hold on to.
“Ready?” He held her hands in his as he asked, a mistake because the gesture felt all too natural. The urge to pull her into his arms and claim her mouth with his was strong. He straightened and pushed his errant thoughts to the back of his mind. It took all his strength to pull away and approach the bridge but he did so. “Watch where my feet and hands are. Once I am on the other side, just mimic what I did and we will be on our way.”
She nodded and he turned to step on to the first board of the bridge.
“Rory,” she called out. “Be careful,” she said when he paused, his back stiff with tension.
He dipped his head and started to cross. The bridge had looked sturdy enough when he had surveyed it earlier and now that he was on it, he didn’t see any structural issues. Alana should have no issue crossing as long as she followed what he had told her. He looked over his shoulder and saw that she was watching him closely, albeit whilst she was wringing her hands together.
Good.
That was exactly what he wanted her doing. Not wringing her hands together and fashing, but paying attention to his movements. His foot and hand placements.
He crossed easily and when he stepped onto the other side, he turned and called out to Alana. “’Tis yer turn now.”
She approached the bridge, her shoulders straight. No panic. Her brows furrowed with determination.
