He sent Matty a weak smile. “Apologies. But ye’d best keep upwind when ye can.”
“You have a coat?”
He grimaced. “My furs hang in the stables?—”
“We should bring them in here to dry?—”
“Never. They’ll smell to High Heaven. The jumper will have to do for the moment.” He dug the largest piece of wood from the basket and tossed it into the fire. “I’ll chop wood whilst you finish the soup.”
“You sure you feel up to that?”
“The rest did me good. Havenae slept so soundly in a long while.”
The comment seemed to please her immensely.
First, Cian made a path to the stables with the help of his spade shovel and his precious house boots. She snatched up the salt and the wee bottle of hot sauce, promising not to use much.
From there, he led her to the greenhouse, which was simply the next house down the row. She glanced about nervously until they were inside, then squealed with joy when she saw what awaited. Cian had removed half the roof to let in sunlight, then used panes of glass he’d purchased from John to complete it again.
“So close to the mountain, it only gets sun so many oors in the dee. Looks like the storm didnae do any harm here. Lucky, that.”
“Onions! And carrots!” She hopped around the rows like she’d never seen a garden before. She was content to gather just a handful of each vegetable, and a pinch from a few of the herbs. “I thought the things in the cabinet were all you had.”
“Rather the dregs, ye ken?”
“Should I start over?”
“Waste not want not. It’ll be grand. But there’s more.”
“You have another garden?”
“Auch, aye. But this is better.”
He stepped aside and held the door open for her, hoping she held her breath as she passed within inches of him. Then he led her to the next house down the lane. They had to push through snow that was hip-high in some places. He should have taken the time to strap snowshoes on them both, but he’d been in a rush to impress her.
“At least the trail back will be easy,” she said, reading his mind.
Nervous again, but less so, she watched wide-eyed while he dug between two stones to fetch the key and unlock the door. When he pulled the oft-repaired plank-door open, she gifted him with another delighted squeal.
“A smoke house! You’ve got meat!”
“Alas, a vegetarian I shall ne’er be.”
He offered her a knife and free reign whilst he held the door open for light. After she chose a cut of venison, she removed a modest slab of ham from the last of his winter pig and held it up as she returned to the doorway. “We’ll need some breakfast in the morning, right? Before we go?”
Cian was caught by surprise. So much so that he decided not to show her the other buildings and allowed her to lead the way back to the house while he chewed on her words.
Before we go.
Naturally, she would expect him to lead her out of the mountains. After all, he wasn’t lost and would know the way. And only a cad would send the woman off alone to get lost all over again, and likely perish. Certainly, he would see her to safety.
But so soon? It had only been hours since they’d stopped trying to capture each other. Could they not rest and enjoy a few days of peace before it had to end?
He remembered the witches and their mention of his happiness. And damned if they hadn’t been right. For these past hours, even in pain, he’d been as happy as the day John had befriended him outside Aviemore and promised to help him, to trade with him, and to keep his secrets.
Cian had lived in hiding for over a year at that time without speaking to another human. His relief, and that joy of rediscovering his own humanity had lasted a good long while. And then, once a month, that joy was renewed.
And now, that joy had been upstaged by a few hours with a bonny woman.
