Page 43 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
“Is she hurt?” she asked, dropping to her knees beside them.
“Nay,” Kian said quickly, straightening. “But she’s lucky I was near.”
Helena’s face paled as she looked at the trampled patch of grass. “That horse—he’s nearly wild.”
Kian helped Abigail up, gripping her waist longer than necessary. “I’ll deal with the beast later. For now, both of ye are going back to the castle—with me.”
Abigail didn’t argue.
As they walked back, she glanced up at him once. “Thank ye, Kian,” she said quietly.
He gave her a sharp look, though something warm stirred in his chest.
“I told ye before, bunny. Ye belong to me, and I protect what’s mine.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Abigail walked in silence beside Kian, her skirts brushing against the long grass. Her heart still thundered in her chest, but no longer from fear.
She could scarcely believe she’d nearly been trampled—and less still that Kian had risked his life to save her. He’d wrapped his arm around her like she was precious, like she mattered.
She bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to glance at him again.
When he’d yanked her back from death’s door, she had wanted to kiss him. Her lips still tingled at the mere thought. But she hadn’t—couldn’t. Her pride, her confusion, her fear all tangled together like thorny vines in her chest.
Suddenly, a frantic voice rang out. “Laird McKenna! Wait—please, wait!”
Abigail turned, her pulse quickening again. The stablemaster ran toward them from the stables, his face flushed and glistening with sweat. He was tall and thick around the middle, his breathing ragged as he approached, his eyes wide with panic.
“Me Laird, I’m sorry! I had nay idea the beast had broken free. I?—”
Abigail watched Kian round on him with fire in his eye. His jaw clenched, his glare cold enough to freeze the wind.
“Enough of yer empty platitudes,” he growled. “What would ye have done if I hadnae been here? The lass would’ve been hurt if nae killed.”
The stablemaster paled beneath his beard, his words caught in his throat as he fumbled to speak. “I-I dinnae ken what happened. The latch?—”
“I should have ye flogged,” Kian snapped. “If yer oversight had cost her?—”
Abigail reached out without thinking, her heart aching from the rising tension. Her fingers brushed his forearm, her touch soft but firm.
“I’m fine,” she assured, despite her quivering voice. “So dinnae punish him, please. It was an accident.”
She watched as Kian looked down at her hand. His frown lingered for a moment longer, but at last he gave a begrudging nod.
“Fine.” He turned back to the stablemaster, who hadn’t dared to draw in a breath. “Ye should thank yer lucky stars. If it wasnae for Abigail, I wouldnae let this pass so easily. But I’ve got to get the lass inside.”
Abigail bristled. “I can take meself inside,” she hissed, stepping back from him.
Kian arched an eyebrow. “Aye? Clearly, ye cannae even stand in a field without temptin’ fate, so forgive me if I dinnae trust ye to walk yerself to safety.”
“I was standin’ still,” she fired back. “The horse came at me, if ye recall.”
“And if I hadnae come when I did, ye’d be nothin’ but a bloody mess in the grass!” Kian pointed out, stepping toward her. “Ye think I’m enjoyin’ draggin’ ye about like a disobedient child?”
Abigail squared her shoulders. “Then stop draggin’ me about! I never asked ye to save me!”
His jaw ticked, and for a moment, he looked as though she’d slapped him across the face.
