When he turned, drying his hands on a towel, a slow smile spread across his face. “Ye like these people. This town. I can hear it, in yer voice.”
“Of course,” she shrugged. “They’re lovely.”
“Yet ye wish tae leave.”
She dipped her head, afraid to let him see her face. “I must.”
“Why?” He tossed the towel on the counter, came to the table and pulled his chair close to hers. His face looked troubled as he reached for the packet of bandages, turning it absently in his hands. “What is it that pulls ye so strongly home, Kenna? Family? Duty?” He leaned closer to peer at her face. “Desire for something, or…someone?”
Kenna looked away. There was naught she could tell him that wouldnae convince him she was completely mad. She desperately wanted—needed—to tell the truth to someone. To share her burden, her sense of loss, and her overwhelming fear for her family. But she couldnae. She’d come close to telling Owen once, but couldnae bring herself to burden him further when he already suffered, so.
But Sean? She’d never see him again, after tonight. By the time he finished the morning deliveries, she’d be gone, well on her way back to the kirk and he’d be free to pursue his own interests. If he kenned her daft, all he had to do was walk out the door and out of her life a few hours earlier than planned. All she’d lose were a few selfishly-needed pleasant hours with a man she liked more and more by the minute.
She shifted, annoyed by the ache settling in her chest. “All,” she stated, more tersely than she’d intended. “I’m going back for all the reasons ye mentioned.”
Disappointment flashed and disappeared so fast on Sean’s face, Kenna thought she may have misread it. Naught but fierce concentration on the contents of the packet of bandages showed now. He pulled out a tube of something and studied it.
“Hold out yer hands, please,” Sean directed.
She complied, held them steady as he squeezed something gooey from the tube onto each palm. She tried not to wince as he gently dabbed it across the tender skin and carefully wrapped each hand, securing the gauze at her wrist.
“Wiggle yer fingers,” he commanded. “Have I wrapped them too tight?”
She did as he asked, surprised at how much better they felt, already. “Nae. ’Tis perfect, Sean. Thank ye. How did ye learn tae do that so well?”
“The lads did a bit of construction at Wickham’s. Most earned a cut or two along the way. ’Twas easier for Wickham’s wife tae keep us supplied with bandages and show us how tae use ’em, than tae have us trailing tae her several times a day.”
“Ye’re a man of many talents,” Kenna said, looking up at him. “And surprises.”
He studied her; his brows drawn. “Ye’re determined, then? Tae leave?”
“Aye.” It took all her strength to hold his gaze wi’out wavering, but he had to ken she wouldnae change her mind. She couldnae.
When he reached up, she was sure he meant to stroke her hair, but halfway he stopped, paused, and picked up the tube. “We’d best see tae yer knees. If ye intend tae walk all the way, their soreness will make yer journey seem much longer.”
“Aye.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she parted the lower part of her wrapper, exposing her knees. “An unimaginable distance.”
Silently, Sean dabbed the contents of the tube over her scratches and cuts, but when he looked up, his amber eyes pleaded with hers. “Kenna, allow me tae see ye home. ’Tis no’ safe, a lass alone on the roads. Or anywhere. Ye need protection.”
Unsure if she could trust her voice, she shook her head.
“Why no’? We’re goin’ in the same direction. And even if we werenae, I’d still want tae see ye safely home.”
She cleared her throat, testing it while she searched for an answer. “I dinnae ken we’re going in the same direction at all.” She trailed a thumb along his jaw, wishing for an easy way to make him understand. “I’m goingback, Sean. Ye’re goingforward. Ye said Wickham prepared ye for a new life in a new world. Ye cannae find that with me. Where I go, ye cannae accompany me, and ye cannae follow. Besides,” she tried her best to smile, “ye’ve that debt tae pay tae the lass who traded something precious for yer release, aye?”
His eyes hardened and his lips thinned to a tight line. “I’ve no’ forgotten. But my debt tae her has naught to do with this. Withye.”
He tossed the tube, bandages and tape onto the table, captured her face with both hands and leaned in, his eyes darkening to burnished-gold, brimming with passion and pain. His warm breath fanned her face as his lips hovered just above hers. “Speak plain, lass. Tell me ye dinnae feel something happening between us. Tell me ye never wish tae see me again andmean it. Give me avalidreason I cannae accompany ye and I’ll no' mention it again.I want the truth, Kenna!”
The trembling began in her belly and moved through her like a sickness, weakening her body, her thoughts. She couldnae seem to pull her attention from his lips. Were they closer? Or had she only wished it so?
“Ye cannae come,” she managed to whisper, “because…”
“Because…?” he repeated, the edges of his lips brushing hers.
“Bec—”
She wasnae sure who moved first. All she kenned was the feel of his lips on hers. Soft in the beginning, no more than a brush, they quickly captured hers with a depth and passion that startled her. Or was it her own bold response that so surprised her?
