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She sighed. “That brings joy and sorrow to my heart, for I would forever keep you safe, but the curse—”
“Is gone,” Reeve insisted.
“We don’t know that.”
“I know it,” he said, and brushed his lips over hers.
She wiggled from his grasp, and he let her go. “I fear taking the chance.”
“Nothing bad has happened—”
“It’s been only a few days since we met.”
“That’s right, and we know not what this is between us,” Reeve said. “Let us give it time and see what happens.”
Her response died on her lips as Mara and Mercy entered the cottage, arms laden with baskets, brooms, and bundles.
“We’re here to get you settled,” Mara said.
In no time, Reeve found he was being squeezed out of the cottage as woman after woman arrived to welcome Tara to the clan. He watched as she smiled and greeted each one pleasantly, but he knew that within she struggled and worried that somehow she would hurt these people, who were being so kind to her.
For some strange reason, he had grown to know this woman well in a relatively short time. While he fought against falling in love, he knew he had to pursue this strange connection to her. He had to settle for himself what it was he felt for her.
He gave her a wave and mouthedlaterto her, and she smiled. His heart did a flop, and he left, shaking his head as soon as he was out the door. Her plain features were changed so dramatically when she smiled. It was as if a beautiful woman was trapped inside her and was only released when she smiled. He wondered what else Tara kept trapped inside herself. And damn if he didn’t intend to find out.
An empty ache suddenly struck Tara as Reeve disappeared out the door. She smiled and responded to all queries from the women who came and went, leaving small welcoming gifts for her. But her thoughts remained on Reeve and the kiss.
She struggled with how much she had enjoyed it and how much she wished to kiss him again. She tried to convince herself that it had been so long since she had been kissed that she would have reacted as she had to anyone who had kissed her.
But that was a lie, and she knew it.
She was attracted to Reeve MacAlpin, and for the first time in far too long, she felt that she could trust a man; and that in itself was appealing.
A tug at her skirt had her looking down, and she was surprised to see a little lad no more than four or five years staring back up at her.
“You’re pretty,” he said.
She hunched down in front of him. “Thank you, and what’s your name?”
“Rand,” he said with a huge grin, leaned forward, and pecked her on the cheek then ran to hide behind a woman who had two good-sized baskets on her arm.
Tara stood, a smile on her face and a hand to her pecked cheek. She silently prayed that the curse had somehow been lifted and was gone. She didn’t want this young lad harmed. She didn’t want anyone harmed.
Rand remained glued to the woman’s side as she approached Tara. “Welcome. These are for you.” She handed Tara the two beautifully crafted baskets. “I’m Cora the basket weaver if you have need of more.”
“Thank you, Cora,” Tara said. “And this is your son?” She gave a peek at Rand.
“Yes, Rand is my youngest, and I have a daughter, eleven years now and—”She patted her flat stomach. “I’ve just learned I’m with child again.”
“How wonderful,” Tara said. “I wish you all the best.”
“She doesn’t need it,” Mara said, joining them. “She has the easiest deliveries I’ve ever attended. Not a yell or scream, the babe just pops right out.”
“I hope mine pops right out,” Mercy said, walking over to them.
“You’re a wee one, so it might take a bit more than a pop,” Mara said frankly. “Now Tara, here, has good birthing hips, wide and firm. She’ll probably pop babes out easily.”
Babes and birthing chatter went on around her, all the women joining in. She had always wished for many children. She had attended the birthing of a few women until ...
