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“I must,” she insisted. “At least until we reach your friend’s croft. There I can rest.”
He rubbed his chin, and once again she noticed his handsome features. She liked the way his dark eyes seemed to match his dark hair and the lines of his slim nose blended so perfectly with his facial features that one would believe his face sculpted by talented hands. But most of all she liked that he cared about her. She could see worry in his eyes, and it was so very nice to have someone truly care.
“We could slow our pace,” he said.
“Then we would not reach the croft before nightfall.”
“The walk will be too much for you,” he insisted.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
He grinned. “With how stubborn you are?”
“My stubbornness just might serve a purpose this time.”
“The purpose of making your ankle worse and causing you more pain?”
“I can manage this,” she said. “And once at the croft, I can rest.”
He shook his head, as if in disagreement with himself. “You will tell me if the pain becomes too much?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“If we must stay with my friend a few days, you will not protest?”
Since they would not be alone, she had no worry. “I will not protest.”
“Then we will try and make it to the croft.”
“You don’t believe I can,” she said, seeing the doubt.
“You can at the cost of pain and more swelling.”
“But it will bring us closer to your home, my new home, and that is where I long to be.”
“I cannot fault you there,” Reeve admitted. “I long to be home myself.”
“You miss your family?”
“Aye, I do,” he admitted, tucking the hem of her cloak around her feet and stretching his legs out where he sat beside her. “Mercy, Duncan’s wife, is expecting their first babe in the summer, and the family can’t wait for the wee one to be born.”
“How wonderful,” she said, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. She loved children and had hoped to have many. Rory and she had talked about having a large family. He had joked about starting his own clan, and she had been willing to oblige him. They had been so young and so in love. There seemed to be nothing to stand in their way ... nothing except death.
“Are any of your other brothers married?” Tara asked, not wanting to focus on sorrowful memories.
“None but Duncan,” he said.
“And none in love?”
Reeve hesitated a moment. “Trey lost the woman he loved, killed by our enemies.”
“How terrible for him,” she said, too familiar with the pain of loss.
“It was,” Reeve agreed. “The family didn’t think he would ever heal. I sometimes wonder if he has, or if he has just found a way to cope with it.”
The hiss of the flames drew their attention, and the succulent scent of the roasting rabbit reminded them of how hungry they were. Soon they were enjoying the meal, and soon after that, Reeve was dousing the fire with handfuls of dirt and kicking the last of the charred wood apart.
“Are you sure of this?” he asked.
