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Tara nodded. Pain or not it had to be done.
They set off, and she didn’t know how she kept pace with Reeve, but she managed. Her ankle pained unmercifully until finally it settled into a dull rhythmic throb that, in a strange way, became bearable, or was it that she ignored it as best she could.
Reeve endlessly asked if she was all right, and she endlessly informed him that she was fine. But after a few hours, the throbbing increased, and she began to ask him how long it would be before they reached the croft.
Finally, Reeve stopped abruptly and turned, reaching for her.
She swerved out of his reach. “What are you doing?”
“I intend to carry you.”
“You most certainly will not.”
“There’s no time to argue,” he said. “And since you have repeatedly asked how far we have to go, your ankle must be paining you. I hadn’t expected you to last this long.”
“I can manage,” she insisted adamantly, expecting him to argue.
He stretched out his hand to her. “Let me help you.”
This time when he stepped forward, she didn’t stop him from scooping her up. Even with the weight off it, her ankle continued to throb. But that wasn’t what drew her attention. A chorus of chaotic warnings shouted in her head how dangerous it was to be in his arms.
Why then did his embrace feel so utterly wonderful? The brute strength of his arms, the ease with which he carried her, the determination on his handsome face, they all made it seem so right.
Without thinking, she laid her head on his shoulder, tucking the top of her head beneath his chin and snuggling comfortably against him.
“There’s another abandoned farm a short distance away. We’ll stop there for the night.”
Her head shot up.
“Don’t bother to argue,” he said, cutting off her protest. “You can’t walk on this ankle, and the more you try, the worse it will get and the longer it will take us to reach home.”
It annoyed her that he made sense, and so she returned her head to his shoulder without making a comment.
He shifted her to sit more comfortably against him. “You know, you’re a perfect fit.”
He was right. She had felt it herself. She did fit with him perfectly, and that’s what worried her the most.
Chapter 5
“So many farms abandoned,” Tara said, as they approached a small croft that had long been deserted. It appeared as if Mother Nature had reclaimed the land and was about to do the same with the cottage.
“The kings demand too much from their people. And King Kenneth, who rules over them all, should be creating laws and enforcing them to protect his people. But he’s as busy as the kings taking more than he gives.”
“Times are troubling,” she said.
“More than anyone cares to admit.” Reeve lowered her carefully to the ground. “Stand here and don’t move while I remove the debris from around the front door.”
Tara followed his instructions, not wanting to prove a hindrance to him. He searched the area before starting, disappearing around the side of the cottage and reappearing only moments later. He held up a half-broken barrel and grinned as if he’d been given a gift.
She smiled herself when he began digging the snow away from the front door and snapping the tree branch that had grown through the lone, small window. He worked with such ease and confidence, like a man comfortable in any task he took on.
What she liked most was that he worked with a smile and no complaints. She had thought he might balk about the delay her ankle caused, but his concern was more for her comfort, and she was grateful.
He used his shoulder to get the door open, it proving a bit stubborn at first. But it was no match for his brawn. He vanished inside, and, with a limp, she approached slowly. She hadn’t gotten very far when he appeared in the open doorway.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be walking on that ankle. It must have time to heal.”
She was in his arms before she knew it and carried across the threshold. She was surprised to see a single bed with a limp mattress that needed stuffing, a table with one corner rotted away, and two chairs that had seen better days. And a fair-sized cauldron sat to the side of the cold hearth.
