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His heartfelt confession sent flutters through her stomach, and it was then and there she knew that she was in trouble. She truly liked this man, this Highlander warrior who had saved her and had given her a chance at a new life. And that would not do at all. She could not take the chance of seeing him harmed. She simply could not, and she had to keep reminding herself of that. Once they arrived at his home, she would need to keep her distance. She had no choice. It was the way of it plain and simple. And the truth of it pained her heart.
They rode the remainder of the way in silence. The air turned crisper and colder as the day wore on. And when dusk looked ready to claim the land, Tara feared that they would have to camp for the night. Then, suddenly, beyond a slight rise, she saw a village.
She grew excited to see her new home, and she wished that night wasn’t fast approaching. She wanted to see it all though she knew by the time they arrived, night would be upon them, and she would catch just a glimpse.
No matter, though, there was tomorrow and the day after and the day after that and on and on. She would live here, isolated if she must, and have a good life. She would make it so; she had no other choice.
The village appeared deserted when they entered, but then the temperature had dropped in the last hour, leaving the air biting cold. The villagers were surely tucked safe and warm in their cottages. They passed several and a sizeable grain storehouse, but it was too dark to distinguish anything else except the keep. It rose in a cylindrical shape at the far end of the village. Blazing torches flanked the wooden door, and as Reeve dismounted, a young lad stepped out of the shadows and reached for the horse’s reins.
“Take good care of her, Robbie,” Reeve said, “and I’ll see that you get extra sweets tonight.”
The young lad, piled thick with extra clothing and a winter cap pulled down tight, grinned, a wide gap being where two front teeth should be. “I’ll rub her down and feed her well.”
Robbie stood patiently as Reeve reached up and slipped his hands inside her cape and took hold of her waist. He lowered her gently to the ground, and Robbie led the horse away as Reeve asked, “Does your ankle pain you too much to walk?”
She certainly had no intentions of being in his arms when first meeting his family. She intended to portray an independent, viable woman who could look after herself.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, and stepped forward.
Her foot connected with a patch of ice, and before she knew what was happening, her feet were flying out from under her, while her hands flayed frantically in the air.
Tara heard his laughter before she felt his arms catch her and scoop her up.
“I’m forever saving you,” he teased, and with a slight toss, adjusted her in his arms.
“I can walk,” she insisted, keeping her hands to herself though she would have much preferred to wrap her arms around his neck and linger in his embrace. Since, no doubt, it could very well be the last time he ever held her that way.
“That’s debatable.” He laughed and walked up the steps to the keep.
As much as she preferred to remain in his arms, she said, “I’d rather your family not see me this way.”
“In my arms, or injured?” he asked in a teasing whisper.
“Both,” she confirmed.
His murmur of laughter tickled her ear. “But it’s the way of things.”
Before she could argue, he opened the door and strode into a large room, trestle tables and benches scattered about with all but one being empty. The two women and three men gathered round it were busy in chatter sprinkled liberally with laughter and hadn’t heard them enter.
“Sure, leave me to handle it all,” Reeve shouted, and they turned.
The older, pleasantly plump woman, her curly auburn hair piled high on her head, shouted out, “You’ve gone and brought me another daughter.” She rushed toward them while the others remained where they were, the older man shaking his head, though grinning.
“It’s another celebration we’ll be having,” the woman said when she was almost upon them.
Tara was too stunned by the woman’s exuberance to speak, but she did cast an anxious glance to Reeve.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he whispered.
“Tell her,” Tara whispered. “Tell her now that I am not your wife.” A shudder raced through her at the mere thought, or was that a shiver of excitement?
“The thought that upsetting?” he asked, though without a trace of his usual teasing. He actually appeared serious.
“No, that dangerous.”
“And why are you carrying her?” the woman demanded once she reached them. “Is she not well?” Her face suddenly beamed with joy. “A babe! She’s with babe. Lord have mercy, it’s two grandbabies I’ll be having soon.”
Tara turned, looked at the woman, and shouted though she hadn’t meant to. “No, I’m not with child.”
