Page 27 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“The groom shouldnae be inside,” Cameron mumbled to himself as he approached the stables.

He had been passing by when he caught movement that was distinctly human entering the building. The horse chores should have been finished long ago. Reconstruction should have been taking priority over training.

Changing his course, he slipped inside, ready to demand the groom explain why he’d stepped away from the vital work on the food storage. He stopped abruptly when he realized he’d been mistaken. It wasn’t the groom, but Margo.

I should leave her be.

Even as the thought flashed through his mind, he stepped in closer. He kept his footsteps as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb her as she inched toward a restless young horse shifting nervously in its stall. She was focused on the creature’s muzzle, murmuring something that he couldn’t hear.

Though her movements were unpracticed, Cameron could tell that she had observed someone approaching skittish horses before. Crossing his arms, he took a long, deep breath, his nostrils flooding with the smell of hay and leather. Across the stables, he saw her do the same, apparently trying to ground herself as she continued on her path.

Something compelled him to move forward with her. His footsteps were quiet, not even disturbing the stray rocks littered across the stones. Margo didn’t seem to register his presence. Her own focus was so firmly on the horse and the minute movement of its eyes that she likely wouldn’t have realized he was there even if his footsteps echoed off the shadowed walls.

“You are a gorgeous thing,” she told the horse, her voice waving a bit with what he assumed to be fear, not of the animal but of the interaction going poorly.

Slowly, carefully, she lifted her hand towards the creature’s neck. The action wasn’t cautious enough, though. The horse startled, jerking its head back and stomping its hooves in displeasure. Before Margo could pull her hand back and frighten the animal further, Cameron’s hand came up to cover hers.

“Too fast,” he said, his body so close to hers that he could feel the sharp intake of breath she drew in surprise.

His intervention wasn’t enough. The horse came closer, slamming its legs against the gate in an attempt to get the two of them to run off. Cameron grabbed onto Margo, steadying her with an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

The movement was pure instinct, a need to keep her safe and protect her interests. If she wanted to stroke this horse’s muzzle, he’d teach her how to do it properly. He told himself that this was no different than the way he guided the children in the clan.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe it.

She went completely still in his hold, even her breathing stopping for a beat. Then, she seemed to force herself to pull in a lungful of air.

“She feels yer fear,” he murmured, the way she shivered in response to his closeness making his control waver dangerously. He swallowed harshly, loosening his grip on her waist infinitesimally. “Horses daenae listen to words. They listen to breathing.”

His hand, which had never left hers, guided her forward again. The movement was slower, more deliberate, as he took deep, even breaths. Margo matched them, letting him steady her as he stopped their hands a few inches short.

“Let her see ye first…” he said, his voice still low, his mouth close to her ear, “then touch.”

This time, when her fingers approached the horse’s neck, the animal did not pull away. Then, when Margo’s fingers brushed against her fur, she stilled. After a beat, her stance relaxed, and she let Cameron guide Margo’s hand over her body.

Though he could only see her profile, the smile that graced Margo’s features was bright enough to make her entire body light up. As their hands moved together, she enthusiastically said, “She likes me!”

“Aye,” he breathed, knowing he should release her and step away.

It felt nearly impossible to pull himself away. The feeling of each small movement she made against his chest was intoxicating. She didn’t seem to fight the contact either, letting him guide her even after the need for his assistance was over.

Finally, reluctantly, he let go of her hand. His fingertips brushed against hers, lingering even after he had realized he needed to let go of her. He hated himself for his gross lack of control, but that didn’t alter his actions.

Dropping his hold on her waist and putting a few steps of space between them, he cleared his throat quietly. He didn’t leave; he could not seem to bring himself to do it. She made it even more difficult when she turned around and flashed him that radiant look.

“If ye want to work with horses like her, ye have to be extra careful,” he said, his voice softening into the familiar tone he used when guiding members of the clan. Though it was meant to put a bit of professional distance between them, it felt even more intimate. “She spooks if ye come toward her from the front. Makes her feel like ye’re cornerin’ her. If ye stand at her shoulder, she’ll be more relaxed around ye.”

“Oh,” Margo murmured, slowly adjusting her stance. Her hand remained steady, her palm firm against the horse’s muscular neck. When Margo stood at her shoulder, she relaxed, seeming to enjoy the attention now. “I didn’t know.”

“Aye, one forgets how easily these beasts get frightened,” he said. “It takes quite a bit of trainin’ to get them ready to ride into battle. Before the grooms work them up to loud noises, they have to do this. Keep their voices low, slow touches. And they have to keep themselves calm even when the beasts are afraid.”

“I do not think I’m very good at it,” Margo whispered. “The last part. If you had not been here, I would have scared her even more.”

“Ye just have to remember to keep yer breathin’ steady,” Cameron said, staying close, his fingers twitching at his side wanting to reach out and touch her. “And when she’s in a stall, ye must remember that she cannae do anythin’ to ye.”

“I suppose I’d need more practice, then,” she said, nearly jumping when the horse turned to look at her. She nosed at Margo’s arm, apparently asking for strokes along her muzzle.