Page 69 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Stop!” he commanded, his voice on the edge of a growl.
Keira dusted her palms. “’Tis all right. I must have lunch with yer sister-in-law anyway.”
“Shona?” Evander asked, frowning.
“Aye. So much for me being cold to yer people, am I right?”
He watched her drop everything else in her hand and make her way toward the castle, away from him, not bothering to look back. Not even once.
He remained rooted to the spot. He understood her pain and where her frustration came from, but the fact that he had to be the main cause didn’t sit well with him. He balled his hands into fists, despising the fact that his mere presence had managed to cause a widow like her so much grief.
He turned around and walked to the stables, his steps quickening across the fresh soil in anger. He needed to unload his pent-up frustration, and he needed to find a way to do it as soon as possible.
“Where are the logs? The ones ye intend to use for fire?” he asked one of the stable boys who stood by, feeding some hay to the horses out of their stalls.
The boy turned around and looked at him. “M’Laird.”
“Where are the logs?”
“The servant who is in charge of breaking them is currently?—”
“Boy, ye should believe me when I say that the last thing ye want me to do right now is repeating meself unnecessarily. Where. Are. The. Logs?”
The boy, with utter fear and concern written all over his face, slowly pointed to the logs, which were only a few yards behind the stables.
Evander nodded and walked out, following the directions. He was not certain he had ever been in this part of the castle before. Ivy covered the fence, and thorns jutted out from both sides of the veiny stems as they ran down the wooden spikes and into the ground. The blue sky contrasted greatly with the atmosphere, providing him with the most satisfying view.
He walked even further, and sure enough, he found the logs stacked atop each other in a neat pyramid. A boy, perhaps only a bit older than the stable boy who had directed him, was axing the pieces of wood and throwing them to the side. Evander walked to the boy, whose head snapped up almost immediately.
“M’Laird?” he greeted.
“Give me the axe. Go find something else to do.” Evander’s voice was curt and sharp as he stretched out his hand and waited for the boy to do as ordered.
“M’Laird, ye dinnae need to worry. This is me job, and I?—”
“And I am commanding ye to find something else to do,” Evander responded, his voice unwavering and his gaze unflinching on the boy.
The servants were still fiercely loyal to Keira, but that was not something he was prepared to dig into. At least not for now.
The boy nodded and handed him the axe. Evander gripped the handle tightly and watched the boy move away from him. Hiseyes fluttered shut for a moment as he walked to the logs, taking a deep breath before he started.
It was this or tearing the castle down with his bare hands.
24
His hand remained tightly wrapped around the axe as he stared at the dry logs before him. He hadn’t used an axe in a while, and he understood that with the anger slowly rising within him, he didn’t need a refresher.
He grabbed the first log and set it in place. Without thinking too hard or too long on it, he swung. The log cracked. He exhaled and swung again. It cracked even wider. Then, he swung a third time, and it finally split in half.
Perhaps it was the satisfaction of seeing the log split, or the fact that it was him who did it, but one way or another, a wave of immense relief washed over him. He had done that.Him.
He grabbed another log and put in place, bits and pieces of the conversation he’d had with Keira suddenly gaining a life of their own and replaying in his head over and over again. It was almost like he could hear her—her anguish, the frustration and stress inher voice. Images of her wincing flashed through his mind, and he remembered how she had dismissed his concern.
He swung the axe, and the impact of the blade on the wood reverberated up his forearms. The wood cracked. He pulled out the axe and raised it above his head.
Why couldn’t he decide?
He brought it down with all the frustration and anger bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t marry her, not after he had promised himself not to put any other woman through what his brother had put Shona through.
