Page 37 of The Madam’s Highlander

He should never have come. Nor should he have asked Freya for help.

She'd sacrificed too much for him already. Then he had taken her virginity and offended her.

Footsteps pounded through the barn. Ewan's head shot up to find Freya racing toward him. She stopped abruptly and stared at him, incredulous.

“Have ye been in here this whole time?” she asked.

Ewan looked at the tools lying around his feet, their metal edges no longer chipped or rusting, but sharp enough to slice a strand of hair into two.

“This.” She said the word softly. “This is what ye've been doing?”

He clenched his back teeth, suddenly hating having stopped his methodical work to have to face everything he wished he could turn away from. “I needed to think, and I figured ye'd need these tools in better repair for growing hay.”

“It was a foolish dream, Ewan.” She shook her head. “There'll be no growing hay, no' when we canna stay here.”

Alarm prickled the hairs at the back of his neck. He eyed her carefully. “What do ye mean?”

“Captain Crosby warned me the redcoats are looking for ye.” Her jaw set. “They interrogated Marian.”

Ewan leapt to his feet. “What did they do to her?” Fire lanced through his side, burning at the site of his injury - the one he'd been ignoring while he spent the afternoon hunched over the tools, the one he hadn't felt when he'd made love to Freya.

He felt the wound now, as surely as he felt the burden of regret.

“They only questioned her,” Freya said. “Captain Crosby put a stop to it, but she's no' feeling well. Our mothers are looking her over.” Freya rolled her eyes. “After listening to them prattle on about ailments all afternoon, I'm certain they can help her.”

“I shouldna be here,” he ground out. “I shouldna have involved ye and yer family. I've become the very thing I've always hated.” He clenched his hands into hard fists until skin strained into skin with nowhere else to go. “A traitor who has lost all and made everyone else sacrifice everything.”

It took a long moment before he realized silence had thickened the air.

He looked up and found Freya watching him with her arms crossed over her chest and her brow lifted with mirthless amusement.

She held out a hand in a gesture of encouragement. “Dinna stop. Ye were doing so well feeling so verra sorry for yerself.”

Embarrassed heat washed over his face.

Freya walked over to him and caught his hand. He looked up and found her blue eyes gazing up at him, softer than he expected. Softer than he deserved.

“Ye're lost because yer world has flipped.” Her brow furrowed as if it pained her to speak. Only it wasn't sympathy with which she spoke, but understanding. “Ye're lost, but ye'll right yerself again. Who ye are in here.” She released one of her hands from his and pressed it against his chest. “This willna ever change - and the man in there is good. I know, because I made the sacrifices ye see now for that man.”

She lifted her hand to his cheek, her palm warm and powdery sweet. “Because I believe in that man.” Their gazes locked and for a long moment, neither had the ability to say what passed between them.

Attraction, respect, affection.

If this were a different time...a different place. If they were different people...

She glanced to the ground, and her mouth lifted in a soft half-smile. “Ye really sharpened all these for me?”

“For us,” he said. “I dinna know how long I'd be here, and I canna stand being without purpose. I wanted to help ye restore yer dream.”

She shook her head and slapped his chest, a playful, light gesture he didn't even feel beneath the thick wool of his cloak. “And all this time I was so worried about ye. Well, torn between being worried and being angry, ye arse.”

She shot him an amused look. “And ye were in here, doing what might be the kindest thing someone’s done for me in a long while.”

He frowned. He hadn't meant to worry her, but the tightness in his chest was quickly replaced by another ready emotion. Hope? Excitement?

She had worried about him.

Her gaze lifted to his face once more. “Thank ye. For doing this, for intending to be part of it.” Her cheeks flushed. “With me.”