Page 56 of Under the Laird’s Promise

His jaw worked, fury and shame warring across his features. Finally, he nodded once, jerky and reluctant.

"Then Donald gets his share now. Ye'll wait yer turn like everyone else." She kept her voice firm but nae cruel. "We've grain enough fer all who need it. Nay cause fer fighting over scraps."

Callum's hands fisted at his sides, but he stepped back without argument. Donald clutched his sack, relief evident in every line of his weathered face.

The crowd relaxed, tension bleeding away into murmured approval.

Maighread turned to find Tavish watching her with an expression that made her chest constrict. Pride, certainly. But something else beneath it, something warmer and infinitely more dangerous.

"Well handled," he said quietly, for her ears alone.

"Ye made that possible." The admission came before she could stop it. "By stepping back. By letting them see I can manage without ye hovering."

"Ye never needed me hovering. Ye're stronger than anyone gives ye credit fer." His hand found hers again, fingers lacing together in full view of everyone watching. "Including yerself."

The words settled deep, taking root in places she hadn't known were barren.

Distribution continued without further incident. By the time the last sack had been claimed and the wagons stood empty, sunset painted the sky in shades of copper and gold. Exhaustion dragged at Maighread's bones, but satisfaction buoyed her spirits.

They'd done this. Together. Proved that MacEwan strength hadn't died with her father's failing health.

"We should find the headman," Tavish said, scanning the dispersing crowd. "Let him ken we're leaving five warriors and what tae expect from them."

They wandered through the village's small market square, what passed fer commerce in a settlement this remote, looking for him. Most stalls had already closed fer the day, but a few lingered, selling odds and ends to those with coin to spare.

Maighread paused at one displaying small cakes glazed with honey and dusted with cinnamon. The scent transported her instantly to childhood, to summers spent visiting villages like this with her father, to simpler times when the world made sense and death felt impossibly distant.

"What is it?" Tavish appeared at her shoulder, following her gaze.

"Naething. Just..." She gestured vaguely at the cakes. "I used tae love these as a child. Would beg Da tae buy them whenever we visited border villages."

"Did he?"

"Always. Even when he was cross with me fer some mischief or another." The memory made her smile despite the ache beneath her ribs. "Said spoiling me with sweets was his privilege as me faither, nae something tae be withheld as punishment."

Tavish moved to the stall, exchanging quiet words with the vendor. Coin changed hands, and he returned carrying two of the small cakes wrapped in cloth.

"Here." He pressed one into her palm. "Consider it payment fer nae collapsing from exhaustion today."

The cake felt warm through the thin fabric. Maighread unwrapped it slowly, savoring the familiar scent that brought tears prickling behind her eyes. "Ye didnae have tae⁠—"

"I wanted tae." Simple. Absolute. Nay room fer argument.

She bit intae the cake, and flavor exploded across her tongue exactly as she remembered. Sweet and spiced and perfect, a tiny piece of uncomplicated joy in a world grown far too complicated.

They found a bench tucked into a quiet corner where the evening crowd thinned to nothing. Maighread ate slowly, making the treat last while Tavish watched with an expression that made heat crawl up her throat.

"What?" she asked around a mouthful of honeyed sweetness.

"Just watching ye." Nae embarrassment colored the admission. "Ye light up when ye're happy. Whole face changes."

"I dinnae light up."

"Ye dae Like sunrise breaking through storm clouds." He leaned back, stretching long legs out before him. "It's bonnie tae watch."

The compliment settled warm beneath her ribs despite her best efforts tae dismiss it. "Ye're in a strange mood."

"Am I?" He considered that, head tilting. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just enjoying watching ye be yerself instead of performing fer audiences."