Page 18 of Laird Of Her Heart

She sighed and stepped out of the tent. A sudden movement at her side captured her attention and she glanced over as the large Viking-like man—the blond she’d smacked yesterday—leaped to his feet. He’d been sitting on a stool by the tent, whittling a stick down to a nub.

She forced a smile. “Good morning,” she chirped.

He frowned at her, clearly put out by her affability. But then, he offered a begrudging nod.

“What are you doing?” she asked, gesturing to his stick.

He held it up and touched the pointy end with a finger. “Spear.”

Ah. It was charming the way he responded with one word answers so she could understand him, being a woman as she was. “I thought you forged steel tips for your spears.”

He gaped at her. “I…aye. But I was bored. And curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“If this would be effective.”

“No doubt it would be. It is very sharp.”

“It is.” You’d think she’d complimented his sexual prowess, the way he grinned.

“But short.”

His glee deflated.

“You’d have a hard time getting close enough to get a good bead on your prey.”

“Bead?”

“Good aim.”

He studied the stick. “Aye. I think you’re right.”

“But you could lash it to a longer stick.”

“Aye.” He cast around for a longer stick.

“You’re Ewan, aren’t you?” She thought she remembered his name, but she wasn’t sure. He nodded. “And how did you get guard duty, Ewan?” she asked in a teasing tone.

A flush rose on his cheeks. He mumbled something.

She tipped her head to the side and waited.

“I doona have the best…bead.”

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“The best aim. The others have gone hunting and I was chosen to stay behind because my aim is poor. I always undershoot.”

“Ah. You need to aim for where it’s going to be, not where it is.” Yeah. Great advice. She’d learned that from a sage old man…in a movie. Too bad she couldn’t remember which one.

His eyes widened. He stared at her. “Aye. Aye. I see what you mean.” His face broke into a grin.

Well fricking finally. Finally one of them was smiling at her. It was a breakthrough of monumental proportions…until Declan stormed through the trees and glared at Ewan.

“What are you doing?” he barked.

Poor Ewan blushed again. “We were just talking.”