“Oh! I have so many ideas.” She shifted the basket in her arms and launched eagerly into her vision. “I want tae start by clearing the weeds properly. Every root needs tae be pulled up so it daesnae return. Then, I’ll plant the taller flowers toward the back, beside the wall: foxgloves, lupins, delphiniums. The middle will be filled with herbs like lavender, rosemary, sage. And near the path, smaller, soft things like violets and chamomile.”
Her hands moved as she spoke, painting pictures in the air, living diagrams of color and scent and sunlight.
“And the rose cutting,” she added with a quiet smile, “that will climb the trellis near the fountain. A splash of pink among the stone.”
Baird found himself mesmerized not by the plants, but by her, by the way her voice danced as the fire of creation took hold of her. Her delight was beautiful, and it was dangerous.
He swallowed, and words caught in his throat before finally emerging rough-edged and honest.
“I cannae wait tae see it.”
Davina shifted her basket in her arms as her eyes roamed over the lively square with its vendors calling out prices and children weaving between barrels. The breeze lifted her hair, brushing a golden strand across her cheek.
“I love coming intae town,” she confessed. “There’s… life here. So much of it. I could wander these stalls fer hours.”
Baird glanced sideways at her, surprised by how deeply the admission warmed him. “If ye enjoy it, lass, then come as often as ye please.”
She looked up at him. “Truly?”
“Aye.” He held her gaze, letting the sincerity settle there. “Ye’re free tae go wherever ye like, Davina. So long as ye always come back.”
Her lips parted and a faint flush rose to her cheeks. Then, before she could say anything, the sky cracked open with a rolling growl. That was followed by a sudden Highland downpour, harsh and utterly merciless.
Davina gasped as the first sheet of rain slapped across the square. “Oh! That?—”
“We need tae get inside!” Baird said, grabbing her hand instinctively.
She seized his fingers without hesitation, clutching her basket to her chest as he dragged her into a full sprint across the cobblestones. Rain hammered them from all sides, soaking them to the bone in seconds, while turning the square into a blur of gray and silver.
Davina’s laughter rang out, bubbling up between her startled squeals.
“Oh heavens, it’s freezing!” she cried, nearly tripping as the water splashed up her skirts.
“Then keep moving!” Baird shouted over the downpour, tightening his grip on her hand.
They sprinted across puddles forming faster than they could dodge them. Davina’s braid came half-loose, as her golden strands whipped behind her while she ran. Her basket thumped wildly with each stride, nearly slipping from her arm.
“Wasnae the tavern nae closer?” she shrieked between laughs.
“Itwasbefore ye stopped tae admire every plant in the damned market!” he shot back.
She laughed harder. In fact, she laughed so hard she nearly stumbled again, and Baird steadied her with an arm around her waist before pulling her forward once more. They barreled through the tavern door just as a fresh wave of rain crashed behind them like a waterfall. Inside, the room erupted.
“Saints alive!”
“Quick, bring towels!”
Davina stood dripping on the wooden floor, with water streaming from her hair, her lashes, her sleeves. Every inch of her was soaked. She looked down at herself and burst into another fit of laughter, breathless and glowing.
“Oh dear,” she managed, trying to catch her breath. “I must look ridiculous.”
Baird pushed wet hair off his forehead, and droplets were flinging everywhere.
“Ridiculous?” His voice cracked into a surprised laugh. “Lass, ye look like a half-drowned duck.”
Her jaw dropped in mock outrage. “Aduck?”
“A very bonny duck,” he amended quickly, fighting a grin.
