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Authors: Sarah M. Eden
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you’ve accused me of being.” If not for the way her chin jutted out and her mouth pressed into a tight line, he might just have believed her.
“I’m certain you’re every bit as stubborn as I suspect you are.” He rose to his feet. “I’d offer you my hand, but I’ve a feeling you’d refuse.”
He nearly laughed out loud at the look of fierce independence that immediately entered her eyes.
“And now I’m being glared at.” Saints, but he would love to spend time with such a maddening woman as she seemed to be. Kept a man on his feet, she did. Gave him a challenge.
She stood, though not without effort. The cold, it seemed, had left her stiff. She took up her bag and shawl.
He grabbed his lantern and shotgun. “Shall we?”
Katie nodded. “But this doesn’t mean I like you.”
“Yet,” he added as he opened the barn door.
She stopped in the doorway. “I didn’t say yet. ”
“Ah, but you meant it.” He motioned her the rest of the way through. “Out into the rain with you, you troublesome woman. We’ve a hot meal waiting for us.”
“You’re going to get wet without your coat,” Katie warned him.
“And well worth it, I assure you.”
Getting to know her better would be more than adequate compensation for a wee soaking. Indeed, he’d discovered one thing about her already: she responded better to a challenge than she did to a show of sympathy.
He stepped past her, calling back through the downpour. “Run like the banshee’s hot on your heels!”
Chapter Seven
Katie ran through the rain but not because Tavish said she ought to. She ran because it was the sensible thing to do.
He didn’t pause to so much as knock on his brother’s front door.
She hesitated. “You’re certain they’ll not mind?”
He stood, holding the door open, smiling as he ever did. “They’ll not mind.”
Katie took a long, deep breath, gathering her courage. For one who preferred keeping quietly to herself, she’d spent far too much of the day convincing strangers to keep her around. She’d be hard pressed to feel less welcome were she a three-legged horse in a speed race.
Just as ridiculous, she’d let this man with his teasing smiles and twinkling eyes see her on the verge of tears, hurting and frightened. Showing such weakness scared her more than she cared to admit. She vowed to herself as she stood on the porch that Tavish O’Connor wouldn’t see another crack in her walls again.
“You’re letting in the rain, Sweet Katie.”
She was indeed. Katie slipped in, taking up a position directly beside the door. She’d stay out of the way until she could figure out what to do with herself. A quick and careful study of the small room revealed two children, a boy and a girl, and a woman stirring the contents of an iron pot in the fireplace. Ian and Finbarr O’Connor stood over an upturned chair they appeared to be mending, not paying the least heed to their brother’s return.
“You should have been back quite some time ago,” the woman said. “What kept you so—”
The words stopped abruptly as her eyes settled on Katie. Surprise and curiosity filled their depths. The woman, either Ian’s wife or the family’s hired help, was likely not much older than Katie was, perhaps nearing thirty, with hair a vibrant nut-brown.
The woman’s gaze shifted to Tavish. She indicated Katie with a nod of her head. “Something you found blowing about in the storm?”
“Aye. The heavens blew her right to me, they did.”
“Sounds like a sign from above to me.” The woman tapped her wooden spoon on the edge of the iron pot she tended before replacing the lid. “I’ll send Ian out for the preacher. We’ll have the two of you married before the stew’s done cooking.”
Married? Katie eyed the woman, relieved to see a glint of teasing in her eyes.
“I’d be much obliged to you, Biddy.” Tavish’s tone of gratitude was far too overdone. “Though Miss Macauley, here, might
“I’m certain you’re every bit as stubborn as I suspect you are.” He rose to his feet. “I’d offer you my hand, but I’ve a feeling you’d refuse.”
He nearly laughed out loud at the look of fierce independence that immediately entered her eyes.
“And now I’m being glared at.” Saints, but he would love to spend time with such a maddening woman as she seemed to be. Kept a man on his feet, she did. Gave him a challenge.
She stood, though not without effort. The cold, it seemed, had left her stiff. She took up her bag and shawl.
He grabbed his lantern and shotgun. “Shall we?”
Katie nodded. “But this doesn’t mean I like you.”
“Yet,” he added as he opened the barn door.
She stopped in the doorway. “I didn’t say yet. ”
“Ah, but you meant it.” He motioned her the rest of the way through. “Out into the rain with you, you troublesome woman. We’ve a hot meal waiting for us.”
“You’re going to get wet without your coat,” Katie warned him.
“And well worth it, I assure you.”
Getting to know her better would be more than adequate compensation for a wee soaking. Indeed, he’d discovered one thing about her already: she responded better to a challenge than she did to a show of sympathy.
He stepped past her, calling back through the downpour. “Run like the banshee’s hot on your heels!”
Chapter Seven
Katie ran through the rain but not because Tavish said she ought to. She ran because it was the sensible thing to do.
He didn’t pause to so much as knock on his brother’s front door.
She hesitated. “You’re certain they’ll not mind?”
He stood, holding the door open, smiling as he ever did. “They’ll not mind.”
Katie took a long, deep breath, gathering her courage. For one who preferred keeping quietly to herself, she’d spent far too much of the day convincing strangers to keep her around. She’d be hard pressed to feel less welcome were she a three-legged horse in a speed race.
Just as ridiculous, she’d let this man with his teasing smiles and twinkling eyes see her on the verge of tears, hurting and frightened. Showing such weakness scared her more than she cared to admit. She vowed to herself as she stood on the porch that Tavish O’Connor wouldn’t see another crack in her walls again.
“You’re letting in the rain, Sweet Katie.”
She was indeed. Katie slipped in, taking up a position directly beside the door. She’d stay out of the way until she could figure out what to do with herself. A quick and careful study of the small room revealed two children, a boy and a girl, and a woman stirring the contents of an iron pot in the fireplace. Ian and Finbarr O’Connor stood over an upturned chair they appeared to be mending, not paying the least heed to their brother’s return.
“You should have been back quite some time ago,” the woman said. “What kept you so—”
The words stopped abruptly as her eyes settled on Katie. Surprise and curiosity filled their depths. The woman, either Ian’s wife or the family’s hired help, was likely not much older than Katie was, perhaps nearing thirty, with hair a vibrant nut-brown.
The woman’s gaze shifted to Tavish. She indicated Katie with a nod of her head. “Something you found blowing about in the storm?”
“Aye. The heavens blew her right to me, they did.”
“Sounds like a sign from above to me.” The woman tapped her wooden spoon on the edge of the iron pot she tended before replacing the lid. “I’ll send Ian out for the preacher. We’ll have the two of you married before the stew’s done cooking.”
Married? Katie eyed the woman, relieved to see a glint of teasing in her eyes.
“I’d be much obliged to you, Biddy.” Tavish’s tone of gratitude was far too overdone. “Though Miss Macauley, here, might
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