Page 105

What Craig meant was, once the bed was done well. Although, judging by the good, solid furniture in the carpenter’s house, he was a master of his work.

Owen chuckled. “Told ye there was good folk in the village.”

“Aye, I ken.” Craig threw a glance at Fingal. “But ye can never be too careful.”

“Dinna worry about me, lord,” Fingal said. “All I want is honest work to feed my family.”

Craig nodded. Fingal’s wife was just getting bread out of the oven, the scent mouthwatering. Two boys and a girl huddled shyly by the single bed in the corner and watched Craig.

“The Comyns are nae coming back,” Craig said. “’Tis best that everyone moves on and gets used to the new situation. Including me.”

“Aye. The bed will be ready in two sennights.”

Craig nodded, they said their goodbyes, and Owen and he walked out of the house into the streets of the village.

The day was cold but sunny. Children played outside, running and screaming. The air was crisp and smelled like fresh snow, which covered the ground in a thin layer.

“New bed?” Owen said. “New woman, then? I can introduce ye.”

Craig chuckled. “Nae. Nae women. I canna stand that bed. I dinna sleep in it. When I look at it, I see Lachlan. It reminds me of Hamish, of Amy. Of my mistake.”

As if he needed more reminders of Amy. Thinking of her was like breathing through a broken rib. Necessary to live.

But painful.

So the bed needed to go. The truth was, he and Amy had never even made love in that bed. All it reminded Craig of was pain and heartbreak. It was time for a new start. Also, a new start with the villagers.

He’d been very suspicious of them. But he was ready to begin to trust more. Owen was right. Craig needed to open up to people. And even if someone from the village was in contact with the Comyns or the MacDougalls, Craig would learn of it more easily if he was closer with the people. He could even ask those he’d come to trust to let him know if they heard something suspicious. He would win them over with kindness. And definitely not by behaving as though they were the enemy.

“What mistake?” said the sweetest voice in the world.

He spun around, his stomach turning, his throat tight.

There she stood, in her strange dark-green coat from the future. Her hair was tied in a knot at the back of her head, fully exposing her beautiful face and neck. Her large blue eyes were as bright and dear as forget-me-nots, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her lips in a shy, sweet smile he was ready to kiss for an eternity.

People around them were stopping and staring, but all Craig could see was her.

“Are ye standing before me?” Craig asked.

Surely, this was a trick of his imagination. How else could she be here?

“Yes, I am.”

She stretched her hand out and touched him. The sensation was so shocking, it felt like he’d been hit by some powerful force. Except no pain came. Instead, gentleness and love spread through him.

“Why?” He couldn’t seem to find the right words. “Did ye forget something?”

He couldn’t have said anything more foolish. He was a stupid arse after all.

“I mean—” he started.

“Yes, I forgot something.” She laughed, the sound like a brook in spring, fed by the melting snow in the mountains.

“What?”

“You.”

Craig swallowed hard, but his mouth remained dry.