She stared out at the calm waters of the sea, dismay lined upon her face. “Then I have no choice but to come with you. For nothing I say will change your mind.”
“I am a man of actions, not words.”
“I’m aware of that.” Imitating his voice again, she added, “Warriors don’t talk, Caragh. They kill people. And I’m quite good at killing things.”
“Good at killing things who talk too much.” But there was a glint of humor in his eyes. The line was starting to pull, and he went to stand against her. His back pressed against her own, to lend his strength.
Caragh linked her arms with his and gripped the fishing line, leaning back. “Something is biting.”
Styr pulled hard, helping her with the fish. The line moved violently and Caragh gasped as it cut into her palm.
“Don’t let the line go,” he commanded. “Keep a steady pressure upon it.”
He continued pulling, and Caragh began talking again, encouraging him to help her. At last, she guided the line into his hands and used a hand net to bring the fish into the boat. It was a large flounder, the length of her arm.
At the sight of the fish, she let out a cry of exultation. “We did it! Styr, we have food!” She was laughing and crying at the same time. Her joy was so great that she threw her arms around his shoulders, embracing him hard.
He stood motionless, startled by her. The reckless gesture was something Elena never would have done, and he didn’t know how to respond.
But his body knew. Though the embrace was brief, he’d felt the touch of her breasts against him, her hips pressing close. The spontaneous affection meant nothing, but it was as if she’d awakened a part of his spirit that had been shielded for a long time. It was rare that anyone had touched him in such a way, and he was so taken aback, he returned to his seat at the rudder.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I’ve never caught a fish this large before.” Her face was flushed with excitement as she stored the fish in a corner of the boat.
Styr grunted a response, and ordered her to set out another line. She did, and while she worked, her joy spread over her face. The sunlight gleamed upon her brown hair, and when she looked back at him, her smile slid beneath his defenses, diminishing his dark mood.
He turned his gaze back to the sea, a sense of guilt permeating his conscience. It had been a long time since any woman had smiled at him. Especially when he’d done so little to deserve it.
“Are you still afraid of the sea?” he asked.
Caragh shook her head, her smile remaining serene. “I suppose it’s not so terrible. The weather was bad that day, and my father never should have gone out.” Her gaze drifted towardthe water, and she let out a sigh. “I miss him terribly, and it hurts to think of losing him.”
She glanced back at him and sent him an apologetic smile. “I shouldn’t have touched you, I know. It was too impulsive of me.”
He said nothing, half-afraid she would see how it had affected him. If he weren’t bound to Elena, he might have enjoyed the embrace, pulling her closer. But honor demanded that he leave this woman alone, that he lock away any attraction he might feel.
She knelt down on the boat, the blue dress damp from the sea. “This fish means life,” she admitted. “It may seem like nothing to you...but it’s everything to me.”
“It’s enough to last us the journey, if we preserve it.” He needed the reminder of his purpose, and she nodded.
“We’ll find them, Styr. And perhaps, when you return, we can make peace between our people, even after all that’s happened.”
“No,” he responded. He couldn’t remain here, not so close to Caragh. The contrast between this woman and his wife was dangerous, for although he’d done nothing wrong, he sensed that staying near her would be unwise. “We’ll settle elsewhere.”
Her expression dimmed, and she turned her attention back to the fishing lines.
They caught five more fish before returning to shore. Caragh was exhausted, but her spirits had never been more joyous. There was food, such as she’d never seen in months. Not only enough for herself, but also enough to share with the others.
The sun had drifted lower in the sky, and Styr shadowed her as she brought the largest flounder back to her home. Though she doubted if anyone would try to steal the fish, she also knew that many had become desperate—particularly Kelan. She hoped toease their hunger by gifting them with some of the extra fish they had caught.
One by one, she visited the other families, and seeing their elation at the food lifted her mood even higher. Iona’s husband Gearoid gave her a small keg of mead in thanks. Though she protested, he refused to take no for an answer, and balanced it on his shoulder as he struggled to bring it to her home. Styr was waiting by the fire, and when the old man saw him there, he blinked.
“Are ye well enough, Caragh?” Though he kept his tone calm, she didn’t miss the worry in his eyes. None of them had agreed with her decision to chain Styr; they’d wanted him dead.
“I am fine. And were it not for this Lochlannach, we’d still be hungry this night.”
Gearoid didn’t seem comfortable leaving her, but Caragh opened the door and walked out with him.
“He hasn’t done anything to harm me,” she reassured him. “I promise you, I am safe.”
