It should not have been difficult. He had ridden with soldiers pressed shoulder to shoulder for days on end during campaigns. He had shared saddles before when situations demanded it.
But none of those rides had involved Elaina. None of them had carried the quiet awareness that seemed to hum constantly between them now.
He shifted slightly in the saddle, and immediately regretted it, because the movement only made him more aware of the warmth of her body so close to his.
Duncan exhaled slowly through his nose.
This is absurd.
He was a grown man, a laird responsible for an entire clan. And yet his thoughts were behaving like those of a restless boy. Worse still, his body was beginning to betray him in ways he had not anticipated.
He cursed quietly under his breath. The last thing he needed was for her to notice how strongly she affected him. She sat so close that he could only hope the shifting of the horse concealed the evidence of his discomfort. Because if she realized…
Duncan tightened the grip on the reins.
The leather creaked faintly beneath his fingers as the horse continued along the narrow forest path. Sunlight flickered through the branches above them, scattering pale gold across the ground.
He forced his attention forward.
Trees. Trail. Focus.
Then Elaina suddenly leaned forward slightly in the saddle.
“Please, stop over there.”
Duncan blinked. “Where?”
She lifted one hand, pointing toward a small clearing just ahead where an old hawthorn tree leaned slightly over the path. Itstwisted branches were dotted with delicate white blossoms, some already drifting to the forest floor in soft petals.
“There,” she said. “By that tree.”
Duncan did not ask questions.
“Gladly,” he muttered under his breath.
He guided the horse off the path and brought it to a halt beneath the hawthorn’s spreading branches. For a brief moment he simply sat there, silently thanking every benevolent force in the Highlands for the interruption. Then he swung down from the saddle in one smooth movement. The moment his boots touched the ground he felt an immediate, profound sense of relief.
He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders once as if shaking off tension.
“Elaina,” he said, turning back toward the horse.
She had already shifted slightly in the saddle, preparing to dismount. He stepped forward automatically, reaching up to steady her.
“Careful.”
His hands settled lightly at her waist as she slid down from the horse. For a brief moment, her weight rested against him beforeher boots touched the soft forest floor. He released her at once. On her part, Elaina barely seemed to notice the moment of contact. Her attention had already turned toward the hawthorn tree.
“How lovely,” she murmured, moving toward it.
The branches hung low, heavy with small white blossoms that carried a faint, sweet fragrance in the warm morning air.
“These are perfect.”
Duncan folded his arms loosely as he watched her step closer to the tree, studying the flowers with the same quiet concentration she had shown while grinding herbs the day before.
“Hawthorn,” she said thoughtfully. “The blossoms are useful for calming the heart and easing certain fevers.”
Duncan leaned one shoulder against the horse’s flank and watched her move beneath the low branches of the tree. The morning light gently played with the leaves, scattering across her hair and shoulders as she reached upward toward one of the clusters of white blossoms. Her fingers brushed the petals, but the branch sat just beyond her reach. She stretched slightly higher, rising onto the tips of her boots, but it was still too far.
