Loved By a Warrior (9 page)

Chapter 10

T
ara woke the next morning with Reeve on her mind. Actually, he hadn't left her thoughts since he had kissed her. She hadn't expected it though she couldn't say she didn't welcome it. It had been far too long since she had been kissed and though it had been a mere peck, it had jolted her senses.

“Fool,
” she whispered to the empty room. “You should have reprimanded him. You did nothing.”

She sighed heavily and drew the wool blanket up over her head, trying to escape her musings. It did little good, Reeve refused to vacate her thoughts. He lingered there like a ghost that haunted.

Whatever was the matter with her? She threw off the blanket and sighed again. She knew what was wrong. The last four days had been like a dream. Nothing horrible had happened to her or those around her whom she had come to care for, and it had given her hope. Hope that perhaps she could live a relatively good life. And yet she was afraid. Afraid that the curse would resurface, or her father would discover her whereabouts, and all this joy would disappear in an instant, and she would once again be alone.

The worst part, though, would be if something happened to Reeve. She could not live with the thought of her being the cause of him dying. And that could very well happen if she continued to have feelings for him. She had tried unsuccessfully to chase them away.

Last night, after he had left the bedchamber, she had chanted silently and endlessly that she did not care for Reeve,
she did not, she did not.
And each time she had, she had suffered a sting to her heart.

Mara had made matters worse, though not intentionally, when she had arrived with a platter of food and had informed Tara that she should not feel guilty for loving Reeve. That life goes on whether we want it to or not and that Tara's deceased husband probably would want to see her happy.

Tara tried several times to make the persistent woman understand that Reeve and she were just friends, but to no avail. And that had gotten her thinking. Why would Mara believe that she cared about Reeve? Was it obvious that she cared for him? Whether she loved him or not was too early to tell. After all, they had just met. She couldn't have fallen in love that fast. She was probably grateful for all he had done for her, and so she felt this tug of gratitude.

She groaned pitifully, thinking what a poor excuse that was. She slipped out of bed, taking one of the wool blankets with her, and hurried to the hearth. She curled up in the large wooden chair, the blanket snug around her and her feet tucked beneath her.

She had tossed and turned all night with worry. She wanted very much to remain here, part of the MacAlpin clan. But was it a wise choice? And did she have any other choice?

Keep your distance.

She hated that warning voice in her head. She didn't want to keep her distance from Reeve. She liked him. She enjoyed his company. She felt safe with him. And Lord forgive her, she liked the taste of him, even if it had been just a brief taste.

Whatever was she going to do?

First things first, Tara,
she scolded silently. You are going to look at that cottage, claim it as your own, and establish roots. There is no point of thinking beyond that. A safe home comes first. The rest can wait.

Tara felt a bit relieved confronting the problem and narrowing it down to what she needed to focus on. It was then she realized that her ankle was feeling much better. Riding on the horse yesterday and retiring early to bed, though she hadn't slept much, had given her injury time to heal. She would need to make certain that she didn't think it completely healed and walk on it all day. She would be careful what she did though she would go see old Alan's cottage and begin to establish residency there.

With that thought and a yawn, Tara drifted off to sleep.

R
eeve paced in front of the hearth while his family enjoyed the morning meal.

“Sit, Reeve,” his mother ordered.

“I'm not hungry,” he said. “Are you sure she was still asleep?”

“Last I saw, she was curled up in a blanket on the chair in front of the hearth,” Mara said. “I didn't want to disturb her, assuming she had a fitful night.”

“I wonder if her ankle pained her,” Reeve said. “I should go check on her.”

“I already have,” Mara said. “Now sit and eat.”

Reeve remained pacing. He was concerned that Tara was curled in the chair instead of the bed. What had troubled her that she couldn't sleep and sought refuge in the chair?

Duncan turned to Bryce, and whispered, “I should have wagered one week.”

The two men laughed.

T
ara woke with a start. It took her a moment to realize where she was, and once she did, she relaxed, though not for long. She wanted to get started on the day. Today she would have her own home. It would be hers and hers alone.

She noticed that on the bed lay a brown wool skirt and a tan linen blouse. A deep green wool shawl also lay there, and freshly washed stockings hung from the mantel. Mara must have been there and had graciously provided her with garments more suitable to her surroundings. After all, her velvet and silk gowns certainly would not do while here, where hard work was part of daily life.

Tara was careful unfolding her legs from beneath her, realizing that it had not been a wise choice to tuck her injured ankle under her. It had swollen though not badly, but it did pain her. She silently chastised her own stupidity and, with a limp, walked over to the bed to dress.

She managed fine until it came to getting her boot over her swollen ankle. She grew frustrated when she couldn't accomplish the simple task.

Reeve would be able to get it on. He had before and had gotten it off with little effort. She needed his help, wanted it, and the thought that she was relying on him frustrated her all the more. She had seen to her own care for years. Why, suddenly, did she need to rely on someone? Perhaps it wasn't that she needed to rely but more that there finally was someone she could rely on.

After several more unsuccessful, frustrating attempts, she grabbed the uncooperative boot and hobbled out of the room to the stairs. A tear touched her eye, and a pang hit her heart. She had someone to go to, someone she knew would help her, and it filled her with precious joy and nagging sorrow. It could not be between them. Why did she continue to torture herself?

R
eeve kept glancing toward the stairs while he paced, paying no attention to his family as they enjoyed the meal.

“Oh for God's sake, go and see if she's awake,” Mara said, and everyone clapped in agreement.

Reeve ignored them and bolted for the stairs, and as he rounded on the second floor, there was Tara, tears threatening to spill from her lovely lavender eyes and her boot in hand.

His heart tore in two though even more so when she backed up the stairs away from him. Though he wondered if it was the curse she feared or the attraction they shared.

He advanced one step. “What's wrong?”

She raised her chin, kept her tears from falling, and held up the lone boot. “I can't get this stubborn thing on.”

“I'll get it on.” He took another step up, not wanting to rush at her but intending to have her in his arms soon. “If you let me help you.”

“You always seem to be helping me,” she admitted.

“And that is a bad thing?”

Her brow creased and she worried at her lower lip and once again his heart hurt for her. That damn curse had simply consumed her and dictated her life. That had to change, and he intended to see that it did.

A tiny single tear spilled from the corner of her eye, and that was it. In an instant, Reeve had her wrapped in the comfort of his arms. He brushed the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “I will always be there to help you. I told you that you could count on me, and I meant it.”

She said nothing, simply stared at him, and he knew it would take more time for her to trust him, to believe that she had someone she could rely on.

He scooped her up, something that seemed to have become a constant, and, with a satisfied grin, headed down the stairs. “Mum tells me you were asleep in the chair when she went to see how you fared this morning. Did your ankle pain you?”

“No, my ankle felt better until I fell asleep with it tucked beneath me in the chair.”

“Then your sleep was fitful? What bothered you?”

She seemed hesitant to answer.

“It was probably because you are in unfamiliar surroundings,” he said, offering her an excuse.

She quickly agreed. “Yes, that was probably why. I am looking forward to seeing old Alan's cottage.”

He wondered what it was that made her change the subject so quickly. What had haunted her so badly last night that she hadn't been able to sleep? He wished he could ask her, or that she would simply confide in him. But whatever it was that had disturbed her, he sensed she wasn't ready to share it with him, and so he left it alone.

“I'll take you there after breakfast,” he said, eager to get her settled safely and permanently in her own place.

“I'm starving,” she admitted with a smile.

“So am I.” His appetite had suddenly returned.

Mara was quick to jump up and hurry over to them as soon as they entered the great hall.

“What's wrong?” she demanded.

“A little swelling, that's all,” Tara said, wanting to reassure the woman.

Reeve set her on the end of the bench and, with a gentle and careful touch, had her boot on in no time. She gave him a generous smile, and damn if it didn't give his heart a jolt as he sat down beside her.

When Reeve looked up, he saw Bryce and Duncan snickering, and he shot them warning glances that had them snickering even more. A hard poke to each of their sides from Mercy, who sat between the pair, wiped their faces clean.

Reeve acknowledged her help with an appreciative nod, and Mercy smiled.

“Mercy and I will take Tara to Old Alan's cottage and see if it suits her,” Mara said.

“With her ankle as it is, it's best if I take her,” Reeve said.

Mara scrunched her brow a moment, and then said, “You're right. With the snow on the ground, she'll need a strong hand to help her.”

“It's really not necessary, I can walk,” Tara said.

“Not with the snow,” Mara insisted.

Tara was more persistent. “Snow or not, I prefer it.”

Reeve sat silent between the two women, his eyes on his brothers, who were just as silent though they wore wide grins.

“You are a stubborn one,” Mara said, and Reeve cringed. “That's good. You'll need it with the likes of this one”—she gave Reeve a jab—“who thinks he's always right, which doesn't always let him see the truth of a situation.”

That had everyone throwing in their opinions about Reeve, and the chatter was soon sprinkled with laughter and stories of Reeve's youth.

Reeve was pleased with the way things were going, his family accepting her into the clan, and with his father and brothers agreeing to keep her secret, he knew the villagers would befriend her as well. With things continuing that way, there was a good chance that Tara could finally be free of that curse, free to care for others without worry, even free to love.

The thought made him feel good, and why shouldn't it? Tara was a good woman and deserved a good life, deserved to find love. That he helped her to achieve it should make him feel good. It had nothing to do with him caring about her. She had become a friend, and that was that. He wasn't falling in love with her. The idea was simply foolish.

Then why was it that the thought of anyone else kissing, touching, bedding her, tore at his gut. And why did he ache to spend the whole day with her?

R
eeve was relieved that the cottage wasn't in as much disrepair as he had expected. And from the smile on Tara's face, she seemed pleased with it. That meant that he could settle her here just a short walk from the keep. He could make certain she was safe and visit her often.

Visit her often?

Whatever was he thinking? That was it; he wasn't thinking. He'd settle her here and be done with it. Why? Why not pursue the attraction between them? He had all intentions of kissing her again. So why not take it further?

The curse?

The thought infuriated him. That had nothing to do with it. And he was damn well going to make sure that was settled once and for all.

Tara drew Reeve out of his musings when she said, “This is perfect.”

“This suits you?”

She squeezed the hand that she had held, at his insistence, since they had left the keep. He had worried she might slip, and so he had kept a good grip on her, and she had not let go since. He assumed that she hadn't realized that she had continued to cling to him, and he would make no mention of it, enjoying the feel of her hand in his.

“I love it. I can't thank you and your family enough.”

He could remind her that she had paid his clan well and owed no thanks, but he had the feeling that her thanks was for giving her a chance at a new life, and no amount of coins could buy that.

“No thanks are necessary,” he said.

“But they are,” she said, and stepped closer and kissed his cheek.

Realizing her own actions, her eyes turned wide, and she quickly retreated from him, yanking her hand free of his.

It was his turn to react without thought, and he did. He reached out, cupped his hand at the back of her neck and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her up against him. Then, without the least bit of hesitation, or concern for the curse, he kissed her.

She struggled for a mere second and then melted in his arms and responded with equal enthusiasm. They were soon lost in the kiss, taking their time, exploring, feeling, enjoying the taste of each other. And when it ended, with great reluctance, they rested brow to brow, Reeve's hand still cupping the back of her neck.