“Another instruction,” the captain spoke to Thaddeus, “if you will allow.”
“Yes?” Thaddeus sounded hopeful.
“Never turn your back on a man with a weapon.”
“But it’s just you—”
“Nonsense,” the captain replied. “An affinity is no reason to grant your trust. If I were a villain, the first thing I’d do is try to make you like me. Try to make you put down your guard. I am a still a stranger. You do not know my intent.”
“My own father could be a traveler in a strange land. Are men to mistrusthimwherever he goes?”
Ah, Thaddeus.“You needn’t grant your trust”—Penelope ventured into the clearing—“in order to be kind.”
“Mother!” Thaddeus whirled around. “You gave me a fright.”
But she hadn’t surprised the captain. From the look on the captain’s face, he’d known she was there since she arrived.
The captain was not a man to underestimate.
“Thaddeus, didn’t we agree that you would catch up on your studies today?”
“I did,” Thaddeus replied. “And now I am studying the English longbow. Captain Smith says I have the makings of a fine hunter.”
Thaddeus gave her a look she hadn’t seen since he graduated from pony to horse.
“Did he?” She turned her gaze to the captain.
She’d been caring for Thaddeus for years. She’d been protecting him. Raising him. Educating him. And in the space of a few days, this man had made Thaddeus flush with excitement
“Your talents appear to be quite broad,” she said.
He lifted a brow. “Have I done something to cause your ire?”
“No,” she said, finally. Though he mightattemptnot to be so attractive.
“Would you like to try?” He indicated his longbow.
“You must think I’m a fool,” she quipped. “That longbow is strung to match your strength.”
“Do I look like a man who can shoot?” He lifted his injured arm.
She snorted. “You look like a man who could do just about anything he put his mind to.”
His surprised expression melted into a smile. A dazzling smile, a smile that melted her insides, so they dripped like hot wax all the way down to her toes.
“Honestly, Mother,” Thaddeus said. “Your cheeks have gone all red.”
“Try,” the captain offered, still smiling. His eyes communicated a deeper, unspoken plea. For a moment, she found herself lost in his questions, transported.
He crossed the distance between them.
Perhaps it was the dream she’d dreamed last night. Perhaps it was his closeness. Perhaps it was the wails of feminine needs long-denied. But when she blinked, she saw Chev. She blinked again. The captain returned.
She searched deep into his gaze. Not a sign of recognition—of shared past. The only plea leeching from his gaze was challenge.
Try.
Well, one thing she’d learned from Chev—never agree to a challenge unless you can define the rules.
