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Terese apologized. “I’m sorry.” She plopped down in the chair at the table where Megan worked. Sun filtered through the open door and the wooden shutters had been thrown open to allow for even more light. The small cottage was used mostly by Megan who cherished her solitude more than the others. She made baskets, wreaths, worked on the loom, and spun fine wool for their clothing.

A spring breeze drifted in and around them as Megan continued to work and Terese sat and watched.

“You seem dazed, not yourself,” Megan said, her fingers bending and rounding the branch to skillfully form a large basket.

“It’s Lachlan,” Terese said honestly.

Megan shook her head. “No good can come of that.”

“He is not like other men.”

“I thought that once.” Megan again shook her head. “It wasn’t so.”

“I’m attracted to him.”

“He will hurt you; all men do,” Megan said coldly.

“I’d like to believe differently.”

“Wouldn’t we all?”

“He will leave and it will be done,” Terese said as if it didn’t matter, though her heart gave a little tug.

“What if you fall in love with him?”

“There is no time for that,” Terese assured her.

“Love doesn’t need time; it needs only two senseless souls.”

“Andrew looks like a senseless soul when he’s around you,” Terese teased.

“I loved once and I’ll never make that mistake again,” Megan snapped.

Terese knew better than to question Megan about her past. No one did, but she had hoped that perhaps Andrew’s interest in Megan might help heal whatever wounds she had suffered and give her another chance at love.

“Andrew is tenacious and considerate of you,” Terese said.

“He is too tall!” Megan blurted.

Terese saw fear in Megan’s eyes, but she shuddered and it quickly faded away. However, Terese felt she had another piece to the puzzle that was Megan. It wasn’t Andrew she avoided; it was his size.

“Andrew seems gentle enough,” Terese said, hoping to help Megan see the man differently. “And he’s lean.”

“With muscles,” Megan emphasized. “Have you seen the size logs he’s lifted? Why, I bet he can squeeze the life from a man with one hand.” She shuddered again. “I want nothing to do with him.”

“As you wish,” Terese said.

“And you would be wise to be careful yourself,” Megan warned, raising her voice. “Men are not truthful creatures.”

At that moment Andrew popped his head in the open door. “I am,” he said proudly. “I would never lie to you.”

“So say you now,” Megan challenged.

Andrew hesitantly peered inside the cottage as if waiting to see if Megan would order him out but when she didn’t, to Terese’s surprise, Andrew ducked his head to fit through the open door and entered.

“I would always be truthful with you,” Andrew assured Megan.

“Then start now,” Megan said, continuing her challenge. “Why do you follow me around?”

Andrew’s cheeks blushed. “I like you.”

“Why?” Megan demanded and snapped the branch in her hand.

Andrew grinned. “You’re a tenacious little one and fearless. I admire you for that.” Andrew’s grin faded. “If there’s something you don’t like about me maybe I can change it.”

Megan stared at him for a moment then said softly, “You’re too tall.”

“Oh,” Andrew said, looking deflated then suddenly brightened. “I could hunch down when I’m beside you.”

And he demonstrated, looking positively ridiculous, though he had Megan laughing.

Terese quietly slipped out of the cottage, the pair not noticing her departure and that she had to contain her laughter at the sight of Andrew making a fool out of himself to win Megan’s chilled heart. A heart that Terese believed Andrew had been defrosting all along.

She strolled the convent grounds, stopping to speak to different people along the way. While Lachlan had been generous in offering everyone a home with the clan Sinclare, Frances and Henry expressed interest in possibly making a home here with the women, both having spent their lives in the area and not wanting to leave it.

Gelda expressed the same to Terese when she had stopped to admire her freshly sowed garden. Gelda and her family much preferred to make Everagis their home if that was possible.

Terese wished the same for herself, that Everagis could remain her home, but where it was a certain possibility for the others…it wasn’t likely to be for her.

Her passionate mood quickly dwindled to one of concern not only for herself, but for the other women. She had to keep her feelings for Lachlan in perspective. She would enjoy him here and now, know intimacy for the first time with him, but never forget that there was no future beyond that.

Rowena caught up with her as Terese approached the common house.

“You look concerned,” Rowena asked while keeping her smile bright. “Do you feel all right?”

“Better but weary.”

“From your wound or your thoughts?”

“A bit of both, I think,” Terese said and wasn’t too successful in forcing a smile.

“You should rest your wound and your thoughts,” Rowena suggested. “I could make you a brew if you’d like.”

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