Page 38 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold

"Of course, lad," Colin said, his voice returning to its normal tone as he cut another thick slice of bread for the boy. "Growin’ lads need proper feeding."

"Thank ye, me laird!" the boy beamed and scampered away.

"Saved by a hungry child," Morag murmured under her breath, ladling more stew into the pot.

"This time," Colin replied quietly, his eyes promising that their conversation was far from over.

They continued working, but the air between them now crackled with unspoken tension. Every accidental touch, every shared glance, seemed charged with new meaning. When Morag laughed at something one of the village women said, Colin found himself watching the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. When he helped lift a heavy pot, he noticed the way Morag paused to look at him.

"Ye're starin’," Colin said softly when he caught her watching him.

"I'm observin’," Morag corrected primly. "Makin’ sure ye're cuttin’ the bread properly."

"Is that what we're callin’ it?" His lips twitched with amusement.

"Aye. I'm a very thorough teacher."

"I'm beginnin’ tae understand that about ye."

The night wore on, and gradually the hall began to empty as people found their sleeping arrangements. Colin helped carry the last of the heavy pots back to the kitchen while Morag organized tomorrow's meal preparations with the castle's cook.

"The refugees should be able tae return tae their homes within a few days," Colin said as they finally made their way through the quieting corridors toward their chamber. "The men I left behind should have most of the urgent repairs finished by then."

"They'll be grateful tae sleep in their own beds again," Morag replied, though she seemed distracted by something.

"What's troublin’ ye?" Colin asked, noting the small furrow between her brows.

"Naething troubling, exactly. Just... watching ye tonight, with the people."

Colin paused outside their chamber door. "Yes?"

"Yer people respond tae ye with affection as well as respect." Morag turned to face him fully. "I think they see what I've been starting tae see glimpses of. The man beneath the Iron Laird."

Something shifted in Colin's chest at her words. "And what man is that?"

"Someone who cares deeply but daesnae always know how tae show it. Someone who's learned tae lead through strength because he's afraid that kindness might be seen as weakness." Her hand came up to rest against his chest.

Colin covered her hand with his, struck by how clearly she saw him. "Ye give me too much credit, lass."

"I dinnae think I give ye enough."

They stood there in the corridor, the weight of the day settling around them like a comfortable blanket. The castle was finally quiet, the refugees settled, the immediate crisis managed. For the first time in days, Colin felt like he could breathe freely.

"Come," he said finally, opening their chamber door. "It's been a long day."

Later, Colin sat on the edge of their bed and measured out his nightly potion. The familiar ritual calmed his nerves, though he was aware of Morag watching him from the corner of her eye as she brushed her hair.

The chamber felt different—warmer somehow, filled with the echoes of shared laughter and easy conversation. Colin found himself moving more slowly through his evening routine, reluctant to let the day end.

"Ye were wonderful tonight," he said quietly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Morag's hand paused in her hair. "Was I?"

"Aye. Ye turned what could have been a burden intae something... beautiful. I've never seen the hall so full of hope."

"They just needed someone tae see them as people rather than problems," Morag replied, resuming her brushing. "Ye dae the same thing, ye ken. Ye just hide it better."

Colin considered this as he set aside his cup. "I'm not sure I ken how tae be anythin’ other than what I am."