Callum is already shaking his head before I finish. “I see how you carry yourself, Rosie. You take the weight of the world on your back and call it duty. You say it’s responsibility, but I say it’s kindness. It’s you, always putting others first.”
His voice gentles, certain. “A lass of boundless heart. Just so.”
I have to concentrate just to breathe again. I’m that sideswiped.
Boundless.
Callum makes it sound as if I have a choice in my life—helping Poppa, minding my mother, and...
I guess I do. I’ve always had choices. And I’ve always chosen to help. To carry my weight. To be useful. To do what’s right.
The realization makes me feel like he’s lifted an actual weight from my shoulders.
Callum doesn’t wait for me to respond to his breathtaking pronouncement, and I’m grateful.
“Now then.” He places one hand on my shoulder and draws anXover his heart. “I swear forthwith and from this day on, I will do everything in my power to avoid all fruits, bogs, brambles, and Campbells.”
“Forthwith, huh?” I can’t help but smile. “That’s a long time.”
“No, it’s forever that’s a long time. And I swear both, either way. Forthwith and forever. I willnae frequent orchards or bogs. I’ll mind my footing?—”
His foot slips.
I gasp, grabbing him in alarm, hands flying to his waist, bracing for impact…only to feel his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“You did that on purpose,” I snarl up at him.
“Forgive me, but you looked so verra distressed. I had to see you smile again.”
I try to pull away, but he claps his hands over mine, holding them where they’ve clenched in his waistcoat. He glances down, grinning. “’Tis almost as though you’ve wrapped your hands about me.”
“I’ll wrap them around your neck if you’re not careful.” I’m trying to be angry, but the low roll of his laugh cracks my resolve. I glare at him, but I’m smiling. “I’m not joking.” I grip his waist extra hard and shake him for emphasis. “You have to stay safe.”
He shifts, and the moonlight catches half of his face. As his eyes lock with mine, his smile vanishes. The other Callum—the intense one—stares down at me. His voice drops, curling around me like smoke. “I’m in great peril indeed. And it’s nae from any brambles or bog.”
Heat surges through my chest, setting my pulsepounding. “Well,” I say weakly. “It’s a fact. People do drown in bogs.”
He glides his hand up, fingertips brushing featherlight to cup my chin. “I might drown here, just looking at you.”
A nervous puff of air escapes me.
Guys don’t think things like that—not about me. And they especially don’t say them. “You just think I’m interesting because I’m different. A novelty.”
His gaze sharpens. “You’re novel,” he says slowly. “But you’re no novelty.”
He takes my hands again, his skin warm even in the cold. “Rosie, can you nae tell? I was gone the first moment I saw you.” His voice is ragged, raw. His eyes bright with something that makes my breath catch. “You were such a ferocious wee thing, standing against Donag like a queen. I’ve never seen the like.” He leans in, his breath a whisper against my ear. “Mayhap you don’t believe me yet. But that’s all right, Rosie-love. I’ll enjoy the convincing of you.”
By the time he pulls away, his expression has shifted. The intensity recedes, leaving something quieter, something sad. “For as long as I have you.”
He sniffs sharply, then plasters on a too-bright smile. “Now then. Forget the brambles.” He tugs my hand, pulling me back the way we came. “We’ll walk by the gorse instead.”
I let my shoulder knock into his as we walk. A quiet answer. A way to sayI feel it too. That I’ll enjoy every minute, just like he will.
It’s so easy to be with him. We don’t talk for a while, but it’s perfect. After everything he just said—to me, about me—this whole night should be awkward.
It’s not.
They say the heart is a muscle. Mine feels like it’s just unclenched for the first time in forever.
