Page 43 of Desire of a Highlander

He turned his head to stare in the direction of the uplands.

Faye followed his gaze. “Ye are worried about this Lord and Lady Murdoch?”

“Aye. Them or others like them. It’s getting more lawless out there, Faye. It’s all getting too close. I dinna know if I can keep us safe for much longer.”

The healer was silent for a long moment. “Ye know there is another way.”

He looked at her. “What way?”

“Ye know what I’m talking about. Perhaps it’s time—”

“No,” Ronan snapped, cutting her off. “Not that. I know what ye are going to say and the answer is no, just as it’s always been. I willnae go down that road. I left it behind a long time ago.”

Faye studied him for a long moment. He thought she was going to press the matter—they’d argued about this enough over the years—but then she abruptly changed the subject.

“Elodie came storming home last night.”

Ronan blinked at the sudden change in topic. “Did she?”

“Aye. She seemed upset. In fact, she looked just like ye do now. I take it the two of ye had words?”

Ronan didn’t answer but this seemed to be confirmation enough for Faye.

She sighed. “Ye should talk to her.”

“About what?”

Faye rolled her eyes. “Dinna give me that nonchalant act. I’ve known ye too long to fall for it. I’ve seen the way ye look at her. I’ve seen the way she looks at ye. So for the love of God, go talk to her.”

Ronan glared but the healer just snorted then patted his arm. She walked to the door but paused on the threshold and looked back. “Some things havenae changed, ye know. Ye are still as stubborn as the day I met ye.”

She walked out, leaving him alone. Ronan stared at the doorway. Then at the hammer. Then at the flattened piece of metal in the water barrel.

Ah, damn it. He swore softly, wiped his hands on a rag, then strode out.

It didn’t take long to find Elodie. He tracked her down to one of the storage barns helping organize building materials. As he stepped through the door, he saw several piles of timber had already been sorted into neat stacks. Tools hung from pegs. Bundles of thatch occupied one corner. Three villagers were busily following instructions while Elodie pointed at things.

The villagers noticed him before she did, bobbing their heads in greeting. Elodie turned and saw him standing in the doorway. The warmth vanished from her face immediately. That hurt more than he expected.

“Elodie.”

“Ronan.”

The formality made him wince.

“Can we talk?”

For an instant he thought she might refuse. Then she nodded. “Fine.”

They walked away from the barn together and neither spoke until they reached the edge of the village. A small stream trickled through the grass nearby and birdsong filled the silence.

Ronan stopped and Elodie folded her arms, waiting. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something to say. Apologizing shouldn’t be this difficult. Perhaps Faye was right and he was still just as stubborn as he’d always been.

He sucked in a breath. “I owe ye an apology. I shouldnae have spoken to ye like that yesterday.”

Her expression softened slightly. “Ronan—”

“Wait. Let me finish. Ye were right.”