Page 14 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
She focused on tearing apart the remaining meat and did not answer. The quiet between them stretched, broken only by the occasional snap of the fire or rustle of leaves overhead. Despite herself, she felt the edges of her tension ease.
When the food was gone, Finley leaned back, resting on his elbows with a contented sigh. “Nae bad fer a mornin’, if I say so meself. A full belly and good company — what more could a man ask fer?”
Edin shot him a look, though there was no malice behind it. “If yer idea of good company is someone who’d sooner throttle ye than listen tae yer chatter, then ye’ve strange tastes.”
He chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “Maybe I dae. Or maybe ye’re nae as cold as ye want me tae think.”
She ignored the comment, tossing the last scrap of bone into the fire and wiping her hands on the edge of her cloak. “We’ve lingered long enough. If we’re tae reach Glenleg by midday, we’d best move.”
Finley groaned but pushed himself to his feet. “Aye, aye. Back tae the trail wi’ us. Though if I’d kent ye were such a taskmaster, I’d have stayed on the ship.”
“And missed yer chance tae prove yer culinary prowess?” she shot back, reaching for the dagger she permanently kept at her side, her fingers brushing against the small pouch she also always kept tucked beneath her cloak.
Finley grinned as he stood, checking for the sword still strapped to his waist and the small pouch of coins that had survived the water. “Come on, then, lass. Let’s see what else the day’s got in store fer us.”
“Let’s hope yer skills extend beyond roastin’ meat,” she muttered, standing and brushing sand off her cloak, her eyes flicking quickly over her gear one last time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. “We’ve still a ways tae go.”
Finley silently did the same “And where is it ye’re takin’ us, exactly? Or dae ye plan tae keep draggin’ me through the woods wi’out a word on the destination?”
She shot him a glare. “I told ye before. We’re makin’ fer Sgurr Fhuaran, though I expect ye ken nothin’ o’ it.”
His brows furrowed as he followed her onto the faint trail leading through the forest. “Sgurr Fhuaran? What business dae we have wi’ a bloody mountain? Ye’re nae tellin’ me we’re climbin’ it, are ye?”
Edin snorted, pushing aside a low-hanging branch. “Hardly. We’ll nae be climbin’ anythin’. The answers I need are in the woods at its base. That’s as far as we go.”
Finley’s expression turned skeptical. “And what answers would those be, eh? Some daft story about prophets or sorcery, nay doubt.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing. “Ye think me a fool?”
He raised his hands defensively. “I’m just sayin’ — there’s plenty who believe the old tales, but I’d nae have pegged ye as one o’ them.”
She exhaled sharply through her nose, turning back to the trail. “Are ye done? Or will ye be carryin’ on like an old woman all day?”
He grinned, falling into step behind her. “Aye, I’m done — fer now. But if yer grand schemes land us in another death trap, dinnae say I didnae warn ye.”
The two fell into a tense but companionable silence, the sounds of the forest enveloping them as they walked. Birds chirped in the distance, and the faint rustle of leaves overhead blended with the soft crunch of their boots on the trail.
“I ken better than tae believe in tales spun tae frighten bairns,” she said firmly after a pause, her voice sharp. “But nae all stories are false. Some hold grains o’ truth if ye’ve the wit tae find them.”
He considered her words for a moment, then shook his head with a wry chuckle. “Well, as long as we’re nae scramblin’ up the side o’ a mountain, I suppose I’ll follow. Though I’ve nay idea why I’m trustin’ ye after yer plan got us near drowned.”
Edin stopped abruptly, spinning to face him with her hands on her hips. “The weather isnae foreseeable,” she said, her tone more clipped than she intended. She immediately regretted the sharpness in her voice, but it was she who had suggested taking the ship and now she couldn’t help but feel the sting of her misjudgment. Her gaze flicked away, unwilling to let him see the hint of embarrassment in her eyes.
Finley raised a brow, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Lass, we were near fish bait. If that’s how ye plan, I’d rather take me chances wi’ the berries.” He eyed her curiously. “What exactly is it we’re after, Edin? Ye’ve told me naethin’, and I’m beginnin’ tae think ye’re makin’ it up as we go.”
Edin kept her eyes on the path ahead. “I’ve told ye enough.”
“That’s nay answer.”
She sighed, finally stopping to turn and face him. “There’s information I need, and it’s found near Sgurr Fhuaran. That’s all ye need tae ken fer now.”
His gaze lingered on her, searching for cracks in her stoic exterior. “Yer secrets dinnae bother me much,” he said after a pause. “But if ye lead me into some madness wi’ witches or prophets, I’ll nae be thankin’ ye fer it.”
“I’ve nay use fer witches or prophets,” she replied coldly. “And ye’d dae well tae mind yer tongue about things ye dinnae understand.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “So quick tae defend somethin’ ye claim nae tae believe in. Makes a man wonder.”
Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “If wonderin’s all ye’ve got tae dae, then we’d best find a village soon. At least there, ye can pester someone else.”
