Page 14 of The Unencumbered Warrior
It was time he spoke the truth. Time to make it known that he wasn’t going to let her face this world alone. Not if he could help it.
Ingrid was kneading dough at the table when the knock came, her hands dusted in flour, her braid slipping forward over her shoulder. She stilled, her heart giving a small, traitorous flutter.
She didn’t need to look to know it was Raff.
He’d been in her thoughts all morning ever since Latham had passed through with a sack of onions and a handful of rumors. Word traveled fast in the village, and someone hadalready suggested Tolan ride with her to market. She hadn’t said aye, hadn’t said nay. The suggestion had caught her off guard. She’d thought… well, Raff hadsaidhe would take her. And she’d wanted him to. Too much, if she was being honest with herself.
And that was the danger, wasn’t it?
Because she didn’t know if he meant to stay.
He was a man with a past and a secret he had yet to share. She could see it in the quiet storm always held just behind his eyes. He could be gone come winter, chasing the wind or whatever burden he carried. She’d seen enough men like that. Rootless. Wounded. And she’d promised herself long ago she wouldn’t let herself ache for someone who was already halfway gone.
But then he looked at her the way he did, and it made her feel as if she was the place where he might stop running.
She wiped her hands on her apron and crossed to the door. When she opened it, Raff stood there, wind-tossed and steady, his gaze searching hers.
“I heard there’s talk about who will take you to market,” he said, his voice strong. “I came to make it clear… it’s me. I’ll be taking you.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, her hand still on the door. She could see the tension in his shoulders, but also something else… resolve. Not the kind that came from pride, but the kind that came from meaning it.
“You said you would,” she said softly.
“Aye,” he replied. “And I meant it.”
She nodded slowly, stepping back just enough to let him in if he chose. “Folks are always quick to make arrangements for others. Especially when a woman’s involved.”
“I’m not here because of what they said,” he told her. “I’m here because I don’t want you riding out alone and because Igave you my word. But also…” He hesitated, then stepped closer. “I want to take you.”
Her breath caught.
She searched his face, still shadowed by whatever haunted him but opened in a way she hadn’t seen before. It warmed something inside her, something careful and hidden. Something she hadn’t let stir in a long time.
“You’re not a man who says things lightly, are you?” she asked.
“Nay,” he said. “And I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”
She nodded again. “Then I’d be glad to have you ride with me.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then her smile came, quiet and real.
And in that small, shared silence, something stirred between them, making itself known… and there was no stopping it now.
CHAPTER 8
The fire in the hearth had burned low, its glow reduced to a soft amber that cast long shadows across the walls of the small cottage. Raff sat at the edge of the bed, shirtless, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly as if prayer might come to a man who had never been good at such things.
Sleep refused him, again.
He had long grown used to uneasy nights, but this place… this village… it was different. It gnawed at him in strange ways.
In every village he’d passed through since the cursed wish, people had turned from him. Some with suspicion, some with indifference, but most had simply ignored him. As though he wasn’t truly there. He’d spoken, offered a coin for food or a place to sleep, only to be met with blank stares or doors closed in his face.
But here… here they saw him. Spoke his name. Smiled even. Greeted him like he was one of their own.
Why?
