He moved slowly through the shadows, his boots whispering over the straw. The nearest horse tossed its head, hooves striking the floor. He paused, studying the twitch of its muscles, the wild edge in its breathing.
Then, an idea.
He turned his head slightly. “Lady Catherine,” he called, his tone calm but clear.
She appeared in the doorway, surprise flickering across her face. “Aye?”
“Come here.”
She hesitated. “What fer?”
“Because ye’re a horse whisperer,” he said simply, without looking back.
A murmur rippled among the men. Catherine’s cheeks flushed. “Ye exaggerate.”
“Dae I?” He turned then, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “I saw what ye did at the keep.”
She stepped closer, skirts brushing the straw. “Ye’re serious.”
“Aye,” he said softly, the faintest ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I’ve learned nae tae underestimate ye.”
Her eyes widened slightly, the color rising in her cheeks. “Ye’ve a strange way o’ showin’ it.”
He moved nearer, until she could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand came to rest briefly at the small of her back, steady, grounding. “Dinnae be afraid,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “I ken what ye can dae. I trust ye.”
The steady weight of his hand, the quiet conviction beneath the words. She drew a breath and stepped forward, her fingers brushing the nearest horse’s muzzle.
And though he told himself it was folly, that it couldn’t last, that his friendship with Tòrr demanded better of him, Aidan Cameron knew something had shifted. The storms outside had passed, but the one inside him had only just begun.
-
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The smell of damp hay and fear hung thick in the air. Shadows flickered across the walls, broken by the shafts of sunlight that slipped through the gaps in the roof. The horses shifted restlessly, their hooves striking the wet ground, their breaths coming quick and sharp.
Catherine stood still in the center of it all, the sound of her own heartbeat loud in her ears. She could feel Aidan behind her, close enough that his presence pressed at the edges of her awareness like heat. She’d felt the weight of his hand on her back moments ago, steady and sure, and the echo of it still burned through her like an ember she couldn’t shake.
Dinnae be afraid. I ken what ye can dae. I trust ye.
The words replayed in her mind, quiet and impossibly tender. For a man like Aidan Cameron, trust was not something easily given. The knowledge of it stirred something deep in her chest.
