“Then I’m glad to have said it.” Logen stroked a hand through her hair, then lifted her chin again and gave her a wistful smile. “Ye still haveourhealer’s work to do. What will she think if we return with an empty basket?”
Coira chuckled and stepped out of his embrace. It was all she could do not to step back into his arms. He’d said she gave him peace. With all her heart, she wanted that to be true. Because he gave her strength, and she needed his strength to keep her distance from him. After one last tender glance, she nodded and bent to pick up her nearly empty basket. “Ye have the right of it again. Verra well, let’s dig up some of this mint for the garden, then see what else we can find.”
Chapter 7
“Someone’s coming.”
Logen barely heard Coira’s whisper, so deeply was he lost in the memory of her in his arms. But the words set him on immediate alert. “Who?”
“I dinna ken, but I dinna think I like it. I thought I felt…but perhaps I was mistaken.” She shrugged, but her expression told him she was still concerned.
Logen frowned and studied the woods around them. No one in their group had elicited a concern from Coira. Had someone else followed them? “How many?” He kept his voice low.
She held up one finger. Then after a moment, four. “It must be Elizabeth, the healer and the guards. Aye, I recognize Elizabeth.”
“Ye do? Does she seem upset?”
Coira’s eyebrows lifted. “Nay.”
“Keep picking, then. I’ll watch for them.”
In moments, he saw movement through the trees and heard the sounds of four people moving through the woods—twigs snapping, bushes rustling.
“Ah, here’s some!” Elizabeth’s voice carried through the undergrowth. Whatever they searched for, she’d found.
“Elizabeth! Over here!” Coira’s exclamation startled Logen, but he should not have been surprised that she would summon her friend. He had resigned himself to the fact their time alone had ended. And now that it had, he wanted Coira to tell him which of the guards had caused her such disquiet.
“That’s where the two of ye got off to,” Elizabeth exclaimed as she approached them.
“Aye, and look at what we found!” Coira held up her basket brimming with herbs and roots.
A bit eagerly, Logen thought, but he hoped no one noticed.
Logen traded glances with the healer, who gave him a knowing smile, eyebrows raised as she glanced to Coira and back. Logen should have been irritated by her presumption, but relief flooded him instead. Perhaps there would be one person in the clan who would not object to the idea of Coira and him together. He kept his expression impassive and turned his attention to the two guards. Both seemed intent on the surrounding forest, as they should be. Coira did not seem to be concerned by their presence. She and Elizabeth were busy comparing the contents of their baskets.
“A successful outing, laird?”
The healer’s question, asked as she moved to stand next to him and regard the lasses, could have seemed innocent enough, but Logen knew from her smile a moment ago that she had something besides foraging in mind. He chose to take the high road and ignore her implication. “It appears so. ’Tis good the autumn has been mild so far. I’m surprised ye had such success this late in the season.”
“It seems we all did.”
He kept his gaze on Coira and Elizabeth, but felt the healer shift beside him.
“She’s a riddle, our Coira. But worth the effort.”
“Ye think so?” What was the healer trying to tell him?
“She’s been hurt, healed, and changed by it. Much as ye have been.”
That brought him up short. “I havena changed.”
“Aye, Logen MacDugall, ye have. I remember the lad who left here all those years ago. Anger over yer parents’ deaths drove ye to fight anything that moved. Eventually, ye learned how to win. That may have saved yer life at Flodden, but since then, ye think before ye decide to resort to violence. An admirable trait in a laird, if ye want my opinion, and one lacking in the last three who graced the high table by treachery.”
Logen swallowed, forcing back the bile that rose at the mention of Flodden. “We’ve no’ seen the last of that.”
“Nay, and those who remain have learned to keep quiet and carefully choose their time to strike.”
“Who are they?” The healer passed almost unnoticed among the clan. Perhaps she’d heard things.
