“Sleep well, lass,” he said quietly, and something in his tone made Ava’s chest tighten.
There was such raw longing in those three words, a desire to connect with his niece that he clearly didn’t know how to act on.
“G-goodnight, Uncle Noah,” Esther whispered, and Noah’s entire expression softened.
“Goodnight, Esther.”
Ava woke up to the pale dawn light filtering through the thin curtains and a small, warm body pressed against her side.
It hadn’t been a peaceful night.
Esther had woken at least four times, each time with a small gasp of panic, her hands scrambling in the darkness until they found Ava.
The first time, she’d clenched Ava’s nightgown so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. The second time, she’d pressed her ear against Ava’s chest, as if listening for her heartbeat to find reassurance.
The third time, she’d simply whispered “Ye’re still here?” in a voice so small it had broken Ava’s heart.
Each time, Ava had held her, murmured soothing words, and stroked her tangled hair until the trembling stopped and Esther’s breathing evened out again.
Now, in the gray morning light, Esther was finally sleeping deeply, wrapped around Ava like a burr. One thin arm was thrown over Ava’s waist, her face pressed against Ava’s shoulder, her small body seeking warmth and safety even in sleep.
For a moment, Ava just lay there, her heart doing something complicated in her chest. No one had ever held her like this when she was small. No one had checked on her in the night when she woke frightened. No one had stroked her hair and promised everything would be all right.
She’d learned early that comfort was something other children received, not her.
But here was this little girl, terrified of being left behind, and she’d chosen Ava. Trusted Ava to be there when she woke in the dark. Believed Ava’s promise not to leave.
When was the last time someone held onto her as if she truly mattered? Like she was safe, warm, and worth keeping close.
Ava blinked against the sudden sting in her eyes.
Daenae get attached, this is temporary. In two days, ye’ll be at the castle, workin’ as her minder. That’s all this is. A job.
But Esther made a small, contented sound in her sleep, and Ava’s treacherous heart refused to listen to reason at all.
Carefully, she started the delicate process of freeing herself from Esther’s grip. It took several minutes of gentle maneuvering. Each time she moved, Esther’s arms would tighten, but finally, she managed to slip free without waking the child.
She moved quietly toward the kitchen, expecting to find Noah’s large form still sprawled on the sitting room floor. But the blanket was neatly folded, the pillow was on top, and there was no sign of the Laird anywhere.
Ava frowned.Where has he gone to?
A rhythmicthunksound from outside caught her attention.
She moved to the kitchen window and peered out into the small yard behind the cottage. Then froze, her breath catching in her throat.
Noah was there, all right. And he was...
Sweet merciful Christ.
He’d removed his shirt.
Ava knew she should look away. Knew she should busy herself with starting breakfast and absolutelynotstare at the play of muscles across his back as he brought the axe down on another piece of firewood.
But her eyes seemed to have disconnected from her brain entirely.
Because Noah MacGregor was... built. There was no other word for it.
Broad shoulders that taper to a lean waist, arms that rippled with muscle every time he swung the axe, and a back that looked like it had been carved from stone. Scars crossed his skin in places, evidence of a life spent fighting, but somehow they only made him more compelling.
