Without a word, Eoin moved forward and collected her lost arrows, then returned to her and held them out. She snatched them from his hands, her irritation at her lack of progress bubbling to the surface and spilling out of her all at once.
"Do you plan on just standin' here and watchin' me fail over and over?" she demanded, tucking the arrows away and then nocking a fresh one. "Or are ye ever goin' tae offer tae help me?"
Eoin's owlish blue eyes sparkled a little at that; the man was obviously a little amused by her annoyance, and he was doing a rather poor job of hiding it. "I didnae offer for fear of offendin' ye," he teased. "I ken how ye O'Sullivan women can get when ye've an idea in yer head."
She rolled her eyes. "This isnae about stubbornness. I'm nae vain, and I need tae learn. I'm nae skilled enough yet, nae by half, and if ye can teach me how tae hit what I need tae hit…"
He nodded, palms up in a gesture of peace. "All right, all right. I'll help ye. Draw the bow."
She did as he asked, and Eoin moved closer, positioning himself behind her and reaching to cover her hands with his. He helped her correct her stance, standing so close that it was impossible to ignore his warmth. Heat radiated from his body, a stark contrast to the coldness in the air around them, and almost without noticing, Breana found herself leaning back against his chest.
The world seemed to hold its breath, and they stood there together like that for a moment, Breana lost in the comfort she was taking from the way he held her, the way their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. The warmth of his hands echoed through her, traveling along her shivering skin like a soothing comfort. She could have stayed there in his arms forever.
After a pause, Eoin retreated. She found herself missing his warmth almost instantly, but all he did was move in front of her again and gently but firmly remove the bow from her hands.
"What are ye doin'?" she demanded.
He placed the bow to the side and then caught her hands in his. "Yer hands are too cold," he told her. "Ye'll never be able tae fire well like that, and it isnae good for ye tae freeze like this." He leaned his head down, holding her hands between his own, and blew warm air on her fingers, rubbing his hands a little to warm her.
She stood there, shocked and transfixed, watching as he worked to warm her up. His hands felt so warm against hers, and when he leaned down to blow warmth on her again, his lips brushed against her fingers, sending a jolt of something new and exciting through her.
"Eoin," she whispered.
He met her eyes, their gazes locking upon one another, and a new kind of heat rushed through her. Eoin swallowed visibly, and he lowered their hands, though he did not let go. He stepped a little closer to her, holding her hands between them, their faces growing closer and closer.
This was it. He was going to kiss her. Her pulse rushed in her veins, and her body felt like it grew tense all over, the anticipation drowning out everything else in the world. She let her eyes flutter closed, tilting her head up a little.
Then came the cold absence as Eoin abruptly dropped her hands and moved away.
"What?" Breana asked, confused, feeling the moment that the tension shattered around her. Now, Eoin would not meet her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Nothin's wrong," Eoin replied briskly, his tone businesslike and not at all the soft voice he'd been using moments before. "But ye really are too cold, and night will fall soon. It's only gonnae get colder. I saw signs for a village nae too far from here. We should find a room and shelter for the night."
"I'd rather not," Breana said immediately, though her mind was still reeling from what had just happened—or rather, what hadnothappened. "We cannae just stop. Nae just because me hands are cold. We agreed to rest the horses and then get movin'. Who kens how far we've got to go."
"The horses could do with a full night of rest anyway. It's been days," Eoin told her firmly. "And besides, ye just said it yerself—westilldinnae ken how much further we have tae travel. Even all the plannin' ye did with Ferda only gave us an approximate direction, but we'll need much more than that if we're tae find this mysterious place. Maybe people in the nearby village will ken more that ye can use tae more accurately map our way."
Breana hesitated, but she reluctantly had to admit that it was a fair point. She felt like she might be getting close to the place that Ferda had spoken about, but for now, they really had no way of knowing for sure.
"Fine. We can find a room foronenight, but then we must be on our way." She sighed, picked up her bow, packed it away, and moved to start collecting the rest of their supplies.
Eoin helped her, and they worked in silence. Breana knew she should be focusing on what was ahead of them, but she found herself distracted every time she glanced at him. Was she so naive that she had imagined the moment that had just passed between them? She didn't think so. She was sure that he hadbeen about to kiss her, so sure that she would have bet any of her few belongings on it. Why had he pulled back from her? What did it mean?
She knew that she should be thinking of other things, but as she fastened her long cloak around herself and drew up the hood, she could only imagine how his hands had felt on her own. When she climbed onto her horse, and the pair of them set out toward the road that led to the nearby village, the only thing on Breana's mind was the heat she'd felt when her back was pressed against Eoin's chest. And when she glanced over to see him riding on his horse beside her, his expression serious and his eyes straight ahead, her fingers tingled at the memory of his lips brushing against them.
The little village had a handcrafted sign propped up at its entrance, readingGlengary.It was clear that it was one of the holdouts of the Highlands—small but well-populated and with a cheerfulness in the air that was hard to come across in Scotland these last twenty years. The people were not any more prosperous than they were anywhere else but, far from the eyes of any of the local lairds who served the False King and positioned well as a place of trade, the people of Glengary had managed to weather the devastation of the country well.
Breana wasn't used to seeing so many children playing on the streets, or women gossiping over their laundry so freely. She'd never seen men walk around with grins on their faces, no swords on their hips, chatting freely with merchants at stalls. Several young people ran over to inspect their horses as they arrived, obviously curious, but just as obviously meaning no harm.
They dismounted, leading their horses to a small stable to leave in the care of the local stablemaster in exchange for a few coins. As they walked, Breana whispered to Eoin, "They all look so happy."
"I ken," he replied, sounding almost as surprised as she felt. "It feels… different here. Cheerful. Like they have a true sense of who they are. I've rarely seen anythin' like it outside of the realms of the rebel camp."
Once they'd left the horses, they strolled together along the market a little, watching as the stall keepers closed up for the night and mothers called their children home to bed. They'd been pointed in the direction of a tavern at the other side of the small village which might be able to offer them a room, and as they strolled there, they took in more of the strange sight of the cheer of Glengary.
"It's disgustin', these people. Ye'd think they were free tae go back tae their heathen Celtic ways," someone sneered nearby, disgust evident in his tone.
Breana glanced to the side, then nearly cried out in alarm. The man who had spoken was unmistakably wearing the symbols of the False King, a sharp weapon at his side. She drew her cloak's hood tighter around her, nudging Eoin so that he could do the same.
