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Amber did as he told her. She took in a lungful of cold, moldy air and held it in her lungs for a moment before releasing it. She repeated that over and over. Each time, the tension released a little, until she finally felt like herself again.

She met Owen’s eyes. “How do you know about breathing techniques?”

She didn’t imagine many medieval Highlanders were knowledgeable about the power of meditation and breathing.

He shrugged. “I ken archery. Ye must stay calm even in the midst of battle. To stay calm, ye breathe.”

Amber became aware his hand was still on her shoulder. Soft, pleasant charges of electricity went down her arm and into her chest in waves. Her breathing sped up again, and her ragged heartbeat drummed in her ears. How could a simple touch from a man make her feel like that?

No. It couldn’t. She wouldn’t let it. She wouldn’t make herself powerless against any man. Not again.

Amber shook his hand off her shoulder, and a flicker of hurt passed over his face.

“Thanks for the tip,” she said.

He was right about archery, of course. She knew it, too, from shooting guns. She knew it from kung fu. She also did yoga and meditation sometimes. And yet it all escaped her when she was around him.

Owen walked away from her and with a carefree expression, he stretched out on the cold floor in the middle of the room and put both of his hands behind his head. He stared up at the dark ceiling with such a dreamy expression, as though he were cloud watching on a beautiful summer day.

“You certainly look like you’ve mastered the breathing exercises,” Amber said as she sat back down with her back against the wall.

He chuckled. “Aye. ’Tis nothing I can do to change the situation right now. So why waste my breath?”

Amber wished she shared his attitude. “So you know archery?”

“Aye. I do. Not every warrior does though, but as a wee lad, I wanted to ken both the sword and the bow.”

“Why?”

His shoulders tensed, and his face suddenly lost the carefree cloud-watching expression. “Because my older brothers are all excellent swordsmen. I’m the youngest son and was always left to roam on my own. Archery was a way for me to distinguish myself.”

A knot tightened in Amber’s throat. Her whole childhood, she’d wanted to be noticed, too. Growing up, her brothers had always been her father’s favorites, allowed to do anything they wanted. As a girl, she’d been expected to behave according to the rules and do everything right.

She’d always wanted to break free and travel. It was one of the reasons she’d joined the army.

“How many brothers do you have?” she asked.

“Two. And two sisters. Well, to be precise, Craig and Marjorie are my half brother and half sister.”

“I have three brothers, all older.”

Owen rolled to his side and propped his head with one arm. The light of the torch was reflected in his golden bristles. “Are they warriors? Yer brothers?”

“One is. Well, he was. He retired.”

Jonathan, the oldest, had gone into the military. He’d served in Iraq until retiring because, as he explained officially, his wife had insisted. Her second brother, Kyle, was a lawyer. Daniel, the third brother, was a struggling artist going from job to job and quite a disappointment to their father.

“Oh, aye?”

“Well, my father expected his first son to follow in his footsteps. But honestly, I don’t think Jonathan ever saw himself being career military like our dad.”

“Yer da is a war chief?”

“Something like that. Was. He’s dead.”

Her father had died of a heart attack two years ago. He’d been a US Army major, a proud man who’d valued discipline and rules more than anything. He saw very definite futures for each of his children. For his sons: the military, the law, and medicine. His daughter could be a teacher or a stay-at-home mom.

If her father had known her mom had encouraged a spirit of independence and adventure in Amber, he’d have been more careful about allowing Amber to go camping with the Girl Scouts and to parties in high school.