“But what of yer leg? Can ye train with it?”
He shrugged. “I think so.” He gently took the sword out of her hands. “We can start with you showing me how to sharpen this.”
She became aware of his scent filling her nostrils, that foreign, fresh scent of the sea and heather. And magic.
Her mouth was dry, so she licked her lips. She removed her gloves and gave them to him, and he laid the sword on the anvil so he could put them on.
“Take the sword, pick the part you want to sharpen. Place yer hands so that they border that part.”
He did, but he picked only a small section of the sword.
“Nae.” She put her hands on his and guided them farther apart. Her arm touched his, and a small lightning bolt of excitement jolted through her. Her breath quickened. Without removing her hands, she helped him place the flat side of the sword against the stone.
“Now slide it forward, nae too strong and nae too gentle, like so.” She made a movement, and her side connected with his. She buzzed from the touch, the feeling unfamiliar and beautiful. She wanted more. She couldn’t let go yet.
They repeated the movement again, and Marjorie’s skin melted against his. She felt him looking at her and glanced up from the blade. He was so close and was watching her with anguish in his eyes. And heat.
Just lean forward, and ye’ll find his lips. How will they feel? Hard or soft? How will they taste?
Someone coughed, and Marjorie jumped back and away from Konnor. Colin stood in the doorway, eyeing Konnor as though the man had just killed someone.
“Mother,” Colin said, scowling at her and Konnor, “Malcolm sent me to tell ye the blacksmith approves of the plan. He can begin forging the spikes.”
Marjorie bit her lip. Her poor boy hasn’t been himself since yesterday. He was anxious and worried, and she was trying to occupy him with different tasks around the castle to distract him.
She’d taken some of Konnor’s suggestions after she’d thought about them. Once she’d cooled off, she’d realized Konnor was right about many things. She needed to tell the blacksmith the edges needed to be sharp enough to prevent the men from holding on to them. “Good. Verra good. I’m coming.”
Disappointed she’d need to separate from Konnor, she took her claymore from Konnor’s hands. “I’ll see ye later. For the training.”
Without waiting for his answer, she marched towards Colin, kissed him on the head, and walked out of the smithy into the fresh air. But even that didn’t cool the fire in her veins.
Konnor had awoken something in her—something she’d thought she’d never get to experience in her life. And it was surprising, and wonderful, and scary. She didn’t know what exactly it was, but it reached to her very soul.
No. Best to nae touch him or get closer.
She had a feeling getting close to Konnor would put her in danger of being heartbroken like never before, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist.
Chapter 14
Konnor studied Colin’s wooden sword and shifted his weight uncomfortably. What did one say to an eleven-year-old boy?
“So ye’re the man my mother found in the woods?” Colin said. “And the one who saved me.”
The words “saved me” sounded more accusatory than grateful.
Konnor cleared his throat. “Yeah. I suppose I am.”
“Why did ye come here?”
“I…got hurt.” Konnor gestured at his ankle. “Your mom helped me.”
Colin tapped his foot, still scowling at Konnor. “So why dinna ye leave?”
“Because I want to help. To protect your mother from the bad guys.”
Like I wish someone had protected my mom back then. Like I wish I had.
“She dinna need yer protection. She has me. And she has Tamhas. If anyone will marry my mother, it will be him.”
Colin looked Konnor over with his estimating, smart eyes, and without another word, he left the smithy.
Konnor stared at the empty, sunlit doorway. What was the saying? An elephant in a china shop? That was exactly how he felt with kids.
He had no idea what a healthy family looked like. Yeah, it was good he’d decided to never marry. What could he offer as a husband and father after what he’d seen in his childhood?
He remembered his own father vaguely. What did Konnor really know about him? His dad’s last words to Konnor were the brightest memory he had. Most of the time, his father had been deployed, and then he’d died, and it was Konnor and his mom against Jerry.
The taste of ash in his mouth, he limped into the courtyard. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Swords clashed against each other as a dozen or so men sparred on the sunlit, dirt-packed courtyard. The walls of the castle loomed in a granite square.
He saw Colin run towards Tamhas, who stopped training with another man and tousled the boy’s hair. Colin, his shoulders sagging, looked up at Tamhas. The two talked, and the man threw his head back, laughing with the boy.
Tamhas bent down, put his sword on the ground, and picked up a sparring stick. He took up a position, bending his knees and holding the sword at his right shoulder. With a chuckle, he nodded to Colin, who took the same position with his wooden sword. The two sparred, Tamhas crying out commands and encouragements to Colin. A perfect picture of a father-son relationship.
Konnor swallowed the bitterness in his mouth. Tamhas should be with Marjorie. He knew her history and clearly cared about her and Colin. He could protect them. He knew the rules of this medieval world.
What was Konnor even doing here? He was in over his head, pretending, lying to himself that he could protect a mother and her son against an army. She clearly had people who could do it much better than him.
The sense of helplessness he knew and hated took over his body. The helplessness he’d been fighting against his whole life. The helplessness he’d thought had disappeared when Jerry died.
No. Konnor wouldn’t let himself be like that. He was a Marine. He fought terrorists and pirates and took bullets and fought for his country. The whole reason he’d joined the military was to protect others like he wished he could’ve shielded himself and his mother. Could he keep a woman and her son safe?
He didn’t know. But seeing Colin brought out the roaring, sucking darkness within him that he had locked away. Every day that he’d served in the Marines had put lock after lock and bolt after bolt over it.
All he knew was he’d rather die than let harm come to Marjorie or Colin. And that meant he needed to put his self-doubt aside and get to work.
Chapter 15
The next morning, Konnor’s ankle felt even better as he went down to the great hall for porridge. Isbeil had looked at it last night and said it was healing better than she’d expected. Because his cargo pants were dusty and dirty, and his T-shirt reeked of sweat, he asked for some fresh clothes before he went for a swim in the loch, hoping it would be a good enough replacement for a shower.
Dressed in breeches and a long, belted linen tunic that reached to his knees, he felt like he’d put on a costume for a historical movie set, except there were no cameras and no director. He kept his comfortable hiking shoes on. He was the only one who didn’t wear pointy medieval shoes. Thank fuck for that.