Page 40 of Desire of a Highlander

The young man launched enthusiastically into the story of how they’d come across a group of five bandits. Then six. Then seven. The number seemed to increase every time he opened his mouth.

Elodie was too busy watching Ronan to pay much attention. His men were grinning in triumph. But Ronan wasn’t. His expression was grim, troubled. Without drawing attention to himself, he slipped from the gathering and walked away. Elodie listened to Eamon’s tale a while longer, then went after Ronan.

When she reached the smithy, she found it empty, with the fire burned low and the room full of shadows. She went next door to the little cottage attached to the smithy, raised her fist and knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal Ronan standing there, looking surprised to see her.

“Elodie?”

“May I come in?”

He moved aside. “Of course.”

Elodie stepped into the tiny, one-roomed house. It was even smaller than Faye’s and contained very little in the way of furniture. A bed, a table, a chest, a handful of shelves.

Ronan crossed to a shelf and retrieved a bottle. “Whisky?”

She hesitated. Then nodded. “Please.”

He poured two small measures and handed one to her. She sniffed it before taking a sip. It burned all the way down and Elodie fought not to cough it back up again.

Ronan’s mouth twitched. “Apologies. It isnae the best.”

“It’s certainly no single malt, that’s for sure.”

He nodded his agreement. “How is Thomas?”

“Sore. Bruised. But Faye thinks he’ll be fine with some rest.”

“That’s welcome news.”

For several heartbeats neither spoke. Elodie swirled her drink around in her cup. “You know Eamon is out there telling everyone how you single-handedly beat an army?”

Ronan snorted. “The lad has a gift for embellishment. He’ll have me slaying dragons by supper.”

“He hero-worships you, that’s all. A lot of people do.”

Ronan’s expression changed, something like pain flashing across his face. “They shouldnae.”

There it was again. That strange self-deprecation.

“They weren’t just bandits were they?” Elodie said after a moment.

His eyes narrowed on her. “What makes ye say that?”

“I saw the look on yer face earlier.”

He considered her for a moment then looked away. For several seconds she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he sighed. “Nay, I dinna think they were just bandits. They seemed too organized for that. To me, they seemed more like scouts.”

“Scouts?”

His expression darkened. “I think they were here for a reason: to scout out this area. Someone is pushing them further into these hills.” He set down his cup. “The Steading has always survived because we are very hard to find. That’s why we have people that need us gather at the waymeet rather than telling them exactly where to find us.”

“But now?” Elodie asked softly.

“Now there are more of us. More mouths to feed. More signs. More difficult for us to hide.”

“And more eyes watching?”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Aye. It seems that way.”