Page 75 of A Highland Healer Captured
Skylar moved among it with her crown sliding and her smile set, letting joy touch her and then pull back like a wave. Zander kept his distance and then didn’t; at some point she realized they’d been within three strides of each other for an hour. He didn’tcrowd her. He did not let her be alone either. It felt like being held in the open.
And this was the blade… shewantedit. The sight of him standing easy with his people; the way he bent to hear a child; the heat in his look when she passed him the cup to drink fromherhand and he obeyed because they’d made that law together.
She wanted it and felt unworthy of it in the same breath. The crown prickled like penance. Her mind showed her Ariella’s face in a draughty room, counting breaths without a stubborn lass to steady them.
As the sun shouldered west, women cleared boards and set out sugared apples. Pipers shifted to airs that made men breathe from somewhere behind their ribs. Someone coaxed Skylar into a slow step, the kind that let folk show their hands on a partner’s back and not be scolded for it.
She found herself looking up at Zander again—curse him—and found him already looking back. The heat there could have burned the stooks, had they not been blessed against such mischief.
“Ye’ll dance this one?” he asked, a formal tilt to his head that saved them both from drowning.
“Aye,” she said, and took his hand.
The turn was simple—step, slide, turn, meet. His palm was warm, rough, sure. Her body remembered the night and pretended not to. Their breath found a shared measure; her crown slouched again; he lifted a finger and set it straight with a care that made her bite her lip.
“I’ve asked Katie to bring Grayson back inside. The air is getting crisp,” Zander started to say.
Skylar’s brow lifted as she turned beneath his hand and teased, “Crisp? It’s not even late-autumn. A bit of nip’s is good for the lungs. We practiced this!”
“Ye’re the healer,” he said, sliding her back into step with him. “But I’m the faither. I’ll do with him as I please.”
“Ye’ve coddled him so well he’s near smothered,” she countered, but her smile betrayed the bite. “The lad kens more of the world from a windowpane than most bairns from a field.”
Zander’s mouth curved, though his eyes stayed steady on her. “And yet, he lives. Which is more than I could say had I left it to chance without ye.”
“Aye, he lives,” Skylar said, her voice softening despite herself. “But he dreams of more. He dreams like a bird locked in a cage. I ken it. I see it.”
He guided her through the turn, the weight of his hand careful but firm. “And ye’d set him free with a word, would ye? Let him risk his breath for a glimpse of sky?”
“If that glimpse gave him joy,” she said, looking up at him, “Aye. I would.”
The music swelled. Couples shifted closer around them, their skirts brushing, and boots thumping on the packed earth. For a moment they were pressed nearer than sense demanded. She felt the breadth of him, the surety in his step, the warmth of his body through the crisp air.
Zander bent his head the barest inch. “Ye’d drive me mad, lass. Ye talk like joy’s a cure, but I’ve seen joy kill quicker than sorrow.”
“And I’ve seen sorrow do worse than kill,” she whispered back.
He huffed a laugh that wasn’t quite humor. “Ye dinnae ken how hard it is to hear ye speak so freely. Every word pulls me nearer to ye than I ought to be.”
Skylar’s breath caught. “Then daenae listen.”
“Impossible,” he said simply. His hand adjusted at her back, the calloused pads of his fingers pressing into the fabric of her gown as if anchoring himself. “Yer voice carries in me like a bell.”
“Then ye should stuff yer ears,” she retorted, but her smile trembled.
“Odysseus tied himself to the mast, lass,” Zander said, eyes glinting.
Skylar’s laugh escaped, half-choked, half-dazzled. “Saints, he reads too?”
“He does quite a bit,” he said, low, “or have ye already forgotten?”
The reel turned again; she spun out, skirts flaring, then he pulled her back in with a tug that made the crown wobble. He caught it steady, his finger brushing the line of her hair.
“I can remind ye,” he offered, his mouth quirking.
They circled, breath quick now, hearts racing with the steps and something more dangerous.
“Why do ye look at me like that?” she asked suddenly, unable to stop herself.
