Loved By a Warrior Read online

  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?

  Reeve 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.

  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered.

  “But you liked it,” he murmured.

  “As did you.”

  “That I did,” he admitted eagerly.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “True enough, for I want to kiss you again and again and again.”

  “No,” she said, trying to pull away.

  Reeve wouldn’t let go of her. “Yes, Tara. We will kiss again. I want it, and you want it.”

  “I want you safe,” she pleaded.

  “I couldn’t be any safer than with you.”

  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 m
outhed later to 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 . . .

  She almost sighed aloud. She had been banned from attending any birthing once she was proclaimed a death bride. No woman wanted to take the chance of the curse somehow affecting her child. Not that any child whose birth she had attended died. It was fear that had caused her to be banned, and she really couldn’t blame them. She would not take such a chance if she were having a child.

  With the help of so many women, the cottage began to take shape, and Tara was stunned when Bryce, Duncan, and Reeve arrived with a table and two chairs, a chest and a bed, and not a narrow one, one more suitable for two.

  The men were chased out as soon as they finished, Tara not even getting a chance to thank them.

  Mercy and Cora dressed her bed while still discussing child birthing. The logs that had been started in the fireplace as soon as Mara had arrived had chased the cold from the cottage, and candles flickered on the table and atop the mantel. Fresh rushes had been spread on the dirt floor before the furniture had arrived, and some of the women were now dropping bunches of dried lavender to the floor to mingle with the rushes and add a pleasant sweetness to the air.

  By midafternoon, the cottage was in fine shape, the helpful drifting off one by one until Mara and Mercy were the only ones left.

  “I can’t believe how generous everyone has been,” Tara said.

  “We are a clan, and that makes us family,” Mara said. “And family helps family. We would have it no other way.”

  Mercy squeezed Tara’s arm. “Isn’t it wonderful? It took time for me to get used to how friendly and willing everyone was to help. Now it just seems natural.”

  “You should rest that ankle,” Mara instructed. “You haven’t kept off it enough today.”

  “I couldn’t let everyone do the work for me,” Tara said.

  “That was why they came, to help,” Mara said. “Like Mercy said, you’ll get used to it. Now rest your ankle. I’ll have Reeve bring your personal things.”

  Tara didn’t think it a good idea that she and Reeve spend time alone, but she didn’t object to Mara’s suggestion. The truth of it was that she wanted to see Reeve. In the few short hours they had been apart, she realized that she missed him.

  She could scold herself for the thought or try to ignore it, but she did neither. Instead, she allowed herself to feel, dangerous though it may be; she allowed herself to feel. She allowed herself to look forward to seeing him, and she allowed herself to look forward to sharing another kiss with him. The strange stirrings in her might warn, but they also urged that the risk was worth it.

  Most of all, those stirrings offered her hope, and a flutter of anticipation ran through her as she thanked the two women again and closed the door behind them to wait for Reeve.

  Chapter 11

  Reeve didn’t waste a minute when his mother told him to take Tara’s personal items to her. She also reminded him to make certain he saw to it that Tara got to the keep safely for the evening meal. She needn’t have reminded him. He had planned to escort her, though he had plans to linger at her cottage first and share another kiss with her.

  All day he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind. No matter what it was he was doing, she had intruded on his concentration. He had taken a ribbing from his brothers while hunting. There hadn’t been a time he hadn’t had a successful hunt . . . until today. His arrow had missed every target.

  The worst ribbing he had gotten had been when their mother had sent them to retrieve some furniture from a cottage long empty. There had been two beds, a wide one and a narrow one. He had insisted they take the larger bed.

  Right away, Duncan started chuckling, and Bryce naturally joined in.

  Soon they were in a heated debate about the beds, though the heat was more on his side, while the two simply laughed and snickered. Their mother’s sudden presence brought an abrupt halt to the encounter, and though Reeve still was annoyed, it was at himself.

  His brothers had been right. As soon as he had seen the beds, he knew that the narrow one would never do. It wasn’t until his brothers’ good-natured ribbing started that he realized why he had wanted the larger bed. He wanted enough room when he made love to Tara.

  Not even if, but when.

  Only hours before, he had been trying to convince himself that they were simply friends, and now he’s thinking of bedding her.

  “Take this along with you,” his mother ordered as she entered the great hall.

  She handed him a basket filled with two tankards, a pitcher, and a crock full of dried leaves.

  “Tara will be wanting a nice brew to keep the chill out of her,” Mara said. “You could use one too. Now be off with you.”

  Reeve hugged his mother. “You are the best.”

  Her pink plump cheeks grew even rosier. “Go on with you,” she beamed, and shooed him off.

  Reeve knocked though he didn’t wait to be invited in but simply entered Tara’s cottage as if it were his own. She didn’t seem to mind, greeting him with a wide smile. She was quick to stand and offer him help with the items cradled in his arms. Reeve wouldn’t have it. He deposited his armful on the table and hurried her back in her seat, noticing she had used an overturned bucket to prop her injured foot on.

  “You rest, and I’ll fix us a hot brew,�
� he said.

  “That would be nice,” Tara said eagerly.

  Reeve got the distinct impression that she wasn’t only happy to see him, but she was happy that he wasn’t hurrying off, that he’d be staying a while to share a drink.

  They chatted endlessly, about everything and anything. Reeve had her laughing about tales of him and his brothers growing up. And she seemed ever so curious about the strange way Duncan and Mercy had met. Reeve explained their plight of having been chained together as prisoners of the king and on the run. And how after endless weeks, they had finally arrived home and had been freed of their chains, though by then their hearts had been bound by love, and the strong link could never be broken.

  A yawn stole Tara’s smile, and Reeve realized she looked tired. With at least three hours left before supper, he thought it a good idea that she take a nap and rest up.

  She seemed reluctant.

  “A brief nap will refresh you for the evening meal,” he said.

  She looked ready to debate the matter when a yawn attacked once again. She laughed. “My body appears to agree with you.”

  A wicked grin surfaced on Reeve’s face, which matched his wicked thoughts. He shook his head slowly, silently admonishing himself. “When are you going to realize that I’m always right?”

  “That’s still to be proven,” she said laughing again.

  Tara went to stand, and Reeve quickly was at her side. Once again, he didn’t ask permission, but then had he ever? He did what came naturally. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  “You needn’t carry me,” she said. “I can walk.”

  “Your ankle needs rest.”

  “It feels fine, and it is but a short walk to the bed.”

  “That’s good.” He hadn’t meant to whisper, his response simply came out that way. But then maybe now was the time for whispers and murmurs and stolen kisses and exploring touches.

  Rein it in, Reeve, he silently warned himself.

  He sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt down to take her boots off.