“There’s only one way tae find that out” Mirella said with a twinkle in her eye. Elvira’s lips curled into a smile, and she sank deeper into the water, the temperature seeming to increase as she thought about Rory.
Rory was ledinto the tavern. Torrin poured him an ale, while Isla got him some food.
“Look at ye, lad, a real hero,” Torrin said.
“I’m nae hero. I just could nae let her be taken like that. It was nae right.”
“Which is why ye are a hero! And these swords…ye hae outdone yeself, lad. I was nae expecting anything as fine as these!”
“Dae ye think she will be well?” Rory said, his gaze turning towards the door. Torrin’s attention drifted away from the swords. He came to stand beside Rory and patted Rory’s shoulder.
“Oh, I think she’ll be just fine, and she might be grateful as well. Perhaps ye should come by later, and she might tell ye what lies in yer future. Something tells me it could be something sweet,” there was a conspiratorial tone to his words, and it rankled Rory.
“Leave the poor lad alone, Torrin. He did a good thing taenight. Ye dinnae need tae gae putting ideas intae his head,” Isla said, and then turned to Rory. “Ye just take pride in daeing a good thing. That poor lass dinnae deserve tae be hounded likeshe was taenight. We are gaeing tae hae tae be careful about who we let intae the tavern. And we cannae let her be by herself.”
“Nae, well, something tells me she’s gaeing tae hae a lot of company soon enough,” Torrin chuckled as he stared at Rory again, while Isla playfully slapped her husband on the shoulder. She told him to take the swords and get them somewhere safe before people started coming in for breakfast. Meanwhile, Rory left, needing to return to the forge after a long night.
As he left the tavern, he spared a moment to look up at the upper level of the tavern, trying to sense which window housed Elvira. He felt like there was more to say, and after being so close with her, it seemed strange to be returning to his forge alone. He opened the door, walked in, and was greeted by the soft mewing of Ginger, who seemed to sense that Rory had had a tough night. Ginger slipped around his feet and stretched her its neck against Rory’s ankles.
“Oh, dae I hae a story tae tell ye, Ginger. I think I lost my mind taenight,” he said. But that wasn’t the truth at all. The truth was that he had found his mind, and his heart. He couldn’t have lived with himself had anything happened to Elvira. Even now, the thought of her being in danger made him light-headed. He was tempted to charge back to the tavern and stand guard by her door. But he held himself back.
He knew that he wanted to see her again, though. The gratitude she showed had been easy and effortless. When she hugged him, she embraced him with her entire body and soul. The tenderness of her lips lingered against his cheek as well. When he closed his eyes, he was back with her on the horse, their bodies close together, moving to the cantering rhythm. He swallowed a lump in his throat and groaned a little, for he knew that he had invited trouble into his life after having spent years keeping it well away. However, while he had made an upstanding name for himself, he had only managed to pusheveryone away. He thought that he was safer when everyone he cared about was far away, but it had just made his life empty. Knowing that Elvira was in direct trouble had awakened something inside him, and it was not something that could be quelled again.
He would not allow that to happen.
Something had shifted inside him, and it was all because of Elvira. She had exposed him for the fraud that he was, but he had risen to meet his destiny. He had been too complacent with his own life, forgetting that other people suffered. And now, if McKovac was coming for Elvira and these lands, then he was going to have to get through Rory first. Rory staggered to bed and fell onto the mattress, utterly exhausted from the night’s exertions and high emotion. He slept better than he had done in a long time, for his soul was at peace, and the inner conflict was no longer troubling him.
13
Elvira took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. It had been a day since her rescue, and much had been on her mind. Mostly, these thoughts consisted of Rory. Her opinion of him had changed dramatically, and she wished to thank him for saving her. Thus, she had brought to the forge a basket of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit from the tavern. At first, there was no answer. Elvira knocked again, and then pressed her head to the door. She heard hammering sounds, and assumed that Rory had been unable to hear her. The door opened when she tested it, and she entered.
She closed the door behind her and then turned to see Rory at the forge, his back to her. Elvira’s throat tightened as she had not expected to see him like this. He wore no shirt, his blonde hair tousled. The sinews and knotted muscles of his back were exposed, his body thick and powerful, packed with strength. This was not the strength of a warrior forged in combat, but the hard strength of a man who had poured himself into his craft for years and years. Broad shoulders led to long arms with thick biceps. When Rory brought his hammer up, Elvira’s gaze was caught by the rounded muscle, swelling with strength, and shebecame light-headed. It seemed as though it was getting hotter in the forge with every passing moment. Her throat felt dry and her lips parted. Rory’s body was slick with sweat, glistening in the light of the forge. All the hard angles were well-defined, as though someone had taken care to craft this man, leaving nothing of excess on his body at all.
Elvira was not sure how long she remained standing there. She seemed lost in a trance, until a cat ran towards her and started to slide between her legs, mewing loudly. Elvira expressed her surprise in a gasp, as she had not noticed any movement, for her focus had been on Rory. She bent down to stroke the cat, but her gasp had been heard by Rory, who turned, displaying his wide chest. Curled hair dripped with sweat and his flat stomach rippled with strength. Elvira felt her knees growing weak at the sight, so she averted her gaze to protect herself.
“Oh, Elvira, I dinnae notice ye there,” Rory said.
“I knocked, but there was nae response.”
“Ah, sorry about that. Sometimes when I get tae hammering I cannae hear anything else. It’s easy tae shut the world out. Can I help ye? Is everything well at the tavern? There hae nae been any suspicious men hanging about, hae there?” concern flashed upon Rory’s face, the boyish features giving way to a harder glare.
Elvira shook her head and rose, moving towards a table. The cat followed her and leaped up on the table, nuzzling Elvira’s hand.
“Nae, naething like that. I just wanted tae bring ye a gift of gratitude for what ye did.”
“Oh, ye dinnae hae tae dae that,” Rory came towards her, the light illuminating more of his body. She felt like a voyeur as she snuck a glance, her gaze drifting over his shoulders and along his chest, wrapping around his waist and moving up to his back again. Every part of him dripped with strength. He radiated thismasculine charisma that intoxicated her. She might as well have drunk a barrel of wine.
“Yes, I did. Ye put yeself in danger for me. Ye were wounded because of it,” her gaze fell to the wound upon his bicep. It was no longer bleeding, but it was clear where the skin had been torn. Elvira’s hand twitched, but she stopped herself before she foolishly touched his flesh, becoming uncertain about where the boundaries lay between them. “I owe ye my life,” she dipped her head out of respect.
“Ye dinnae owe me anything, Elvira. I could nae stand by while ye were in danger. I hae done enough standing by recently,” he spoke in a self-deprecating tone. Elvira looked up. Rory inspected his wound and only then seemed to notice that he was shirtless. He grabbed a garment that had been draped over a chair and pulled it around his shoulders, fastening it with a clasp to cover most of his body.
“Aye, well, I’m glad ye hae helped and please, dinnae turn this gift away. It’s nae much, but I thought ye would appreciate it,” Elvira nudged the basket towards him and opened it. The scent of salted meat and cheese filled the room. Rory’s face lit up with delight as he rummaged through the basket.
“This is a feast!” he exclaimed.
Elvira suppressed a giggle. “I’m glad ye like it,” she said, stroking the cat under the chin. It was purring away.
“Ginger seems tae like ye,” Rory nodded.
